The First Casualty Read Online Free PDF Page A

being lionized and admired and petted, of course, but you can’t turn it off, you see. I dread to dine out because I know that by the time my soup’s arrived there will be a giggling gaggle of moon-faced flappers hovering behind the pastry trolley and I shall have to smile and write my name on their menu cards until my food has gone stone cold.’
    Viscount Abercrombie pressed a glass of champagne into the young man’s hand and called for cognac and sugar to make a proper drink of it.
    ‘It’s worse for me, being a bachelor ,’ he added, taking the man’s hand and leading him to a velvet divan. ‘All the fat mamas push their revolting skinny little darlings on to me, hoping to make a famous match. Little chance of that, I fear, despite the pleadings of one’s own mama.’
    Abercrombie laid his hand upon the young man’s knee.
    ‘So who are you then, young scout,’ he enquired, ‘apart from a charming boy who has no taste in music but looks delightful in silk? ‘
    ‘I’m Stamford,’ the man replied, his voice shaking with nerves. ‘Well, Stamford, what brings you to Bartholomew’s Private Hotel?’
    ‘I heard about it from a fellow I fagged for at Harrow…We kept in touch and he told me that I’d be…welcome here.’
    ‘And he was right.’
    ‘We were…‘friends’ at school.’
    ‘You mean he used you shamelessly, the beast.’
    ‘I didn’t mind.’
    ‘I’ll bet you didn’t, my primrose pal. And here at the Lavender Lamp we can all pretend we’re still at school, eh?’
    Abercrombie leaned over and kissed Stamford on the cheek. The young man went red and smiled brightly.
    ‘I was so hoping that I’d get a chance to meet you,’ he said. ‘We’re to be in the same regiment, you know.’
    ‘Well, darling, what a coincidence! Perhaps we shall share a puddle together. You can massage my trench feet and I shall rub yours.’
    ‘Is it truly terribly awful? I’ve spoken to other fellows who say it’s pretty grim.’
    ‘And they were honest men, young Stamford, pretty grim is exactly what it is except grimmer.’
    They were closer now. Abercrombie had his arm around the shoulders of the younger man and had poured them both another champagne and cognac.
    ‘It’s all right for you,’ Stamford said, ‘you’re so terribly brave. ‘Terribly, darling. I drip with medals. I’d rather thought of having a couple made into earrings. Wouldn’t that look smart on parade?’
    ‘You see, you can even joke about it. I’m sure I never shall. I’m scared that I shall funk it and let everybody down.’
    ‘Tell you what,’ Abercrombie said, ‘let’s not talk about it, eh? Let’s pretend that there is no beastly rotten war at all and that the only interest we need take in soldiering is cruising for a compliant Guardsman outside the palace when we fancy something rough.’
    Abercrombie kissed Stamford again but this time on the mouth. When their lips separated the young man grinned nervously and took up a little leather manuscript bag that lay on the velvet cushions beside him. Abercrombie’s face fell instantly.
    ‘Sweetums, please, please don’t say that you have poems in that satchel.’
    Now it was the turn of the young man’s face to fall.
    ‘I…Well, yes,’ he stammered. ‘I’ve written one about…’
    ‘Your feelings on going off to war?’
    ‘Yes, exactly!’ the young man replied, looking pleased again. ‘Just like poor old Rupert Brooke, silly Siegfried Sassoon and brave Viscount Abercrombie with his simply thrilling and stirring ‘Forever England’?’
    ‘Well, I would never class myself in — ’
    ‘Are you proud, young Stamford? Do you hope to do your best? Shall you miss the country of your birth but nonetheless are content to go and die for it if needs be?’
    The young man was crestfallen.
    ‘You’re laughing at me.’
    ‘Well, come on, am I right?’
    ‘That’s what I wrote about, yes.’
    ‘What’s it called?’
    ‘It’s called ‘England, Home and