Gentlemen Formerly Dressed (46 page)

Churchill's secretary cleared his throat.

Marriott Spencer had emerged from the workshop. He glanced at the occupants of the sitting room like a startled rabbit. “I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Churchill. We're ready for you now.”

Churchill put the cigar back in his mouth and stood.

“Don't apologise, Mr. Spencer—I've had a most interesting conversation with the gentlemen loitering in your waiting room!” He handed the artist's notebook back to Rowland. “Do you paint, Mr. Sinclair? I should like to keep a weather eye out for your work.”

“Rear Admiral Sinclair has his latest paintings,” Milton said recklessly. “He might show you.”

Churchill's brow rose. “Quex has them, has he? I might just ask him.”

Rowland refastened his collar and adjusted his tie as Churchill disappeared into the workshop with Marriott Spencer. The startled
secretary stood at the last moment and literally ran to join his employer.

Clyde grimaced at Rowland and Milton. “Spencer's not going to be happy if you've upset his subject—might throw the measurements out.”

Rowland sighed. “I did lose my rag a bit…”

“Nonsense!” Milton declared. “We told him the truth. It's a pity he's such a spent force.”

Rowland groaned. Milton was right. Churchill was in the wilderness politically—an anachronism of conservatism, alienated for his intractability on the subject of Indian self-government among other things. They'd shouted at the poor old man for nothing. Even if they'd got through to him, no one would pay any attention to Winston Churchill.

T
he London Economic Conference finally closed on 27 July 1933, its purpose unrealised. The early denunciation of currency stabilisation by President Roosevelt of the United States of America rendered its objective of achieving that impossible. The Great Depression would continue.

Offended that his gift had been rejected, Francis Pocock refused to accept the return of the wax replica he had created of Lord Pierrepont's head. Unable to find any other suitable home, Rowland Sinclair gave it to Inspector Entwhistle of Scotland Yard who committed it to the collection of the Black Museum.

On 14 August 1933, Winston Churchill made his first of many public speeches warning against the ambitions of Adolf Hitler and urging Britain to rearm. He would be considered a warmonger by some and a prophet by others. Throughout his life, Churchill was remade in wax for Madame Tussaud's a total of seven times. Each time a little more wax was required.

In the latter half of 1933, H.G. Wells published
The Shape of Things to Come
, a science fiction which contemplated a Utopian world under a single global government. The point of divergence for this alternative history was the London Economic Conference which Wells covered
with poignant disappointment in a chapter entitled, “The London Conference: the Crowning Failure of the Old Governments; The spread of Dictatorships and Fascisms”.

In September 1933, Prime Minister Joseph Lyons appointed Stanley Melbourne Bruce to the post of Australia's High Commissioner in Britain, a position Bruce would hold until 1945. In 1947, the Hon. S.M Bruce would be made Lord Bruce, the Viscount of Melbourne. Ethel Bruce stayed in touch with the young people who helped her solve the mysterious case of Lord Pierrepont, and her hats continued to be a subject of comment by her husband.

Prince George became the Duke of Kent in 1934 just prior to his wedding to Princess Marina of Greece. In 1938, he was appointed Governor-General of Australia, but the appointment was postponed due to the outbreak of war in 1939. He did not survive to take up the role.

Thelma, the Viscountess Furness, who had been the Prince of Wales' regular companion since 1929, returned temporarily to the U.S. in January 1934 to visit her sister in New York. She asked her close friend Wallis Simpson, who had recently returned from a tour of Germany and Norway, to look after the Prince in her absence.

In 1934, Josslyn Hay, the Earl of Erroll, joined Oswald Mosley's British Union of Fascists. The following year, Hay returned to Kenya and the Happy Valley Set, a group of colonial expatriates
notorious for their hedonistic lifestyles. In 1941, he would be found shot dead in his car at a crossroads on the Nairobi-Ngong Road.

The Ambroses prospered in London, establishing themselves as the makers of particularly lifelike mannequins. The eldest son of Ambrose the tailor left the family business to be apprenticed by Marriott Spencer at Madame Tussaud's.