Pro Bono Publico

Roger had become more reflective in his retirement and would sometimes sit on the terrace of his splendid home contemplating the past. His reminiscing usually went no further than Cambridge where, as far as he was concerned, it had all begun. Then as his thoughts turned to the late Lord Welford he would shake his head regretfully. Poor old Gerald, he missed the rounds of golf they’d shared and their tête-à-têtes the Reform and Athenaeum. Julia’s behaviour after the funeral had been inexplicable, and he recalled how she’d disposed of Bridgewater Hall with its entire contents and donated the proceeds to various charities, although Freedom and similar groups were conspicuously absent from the list. Then she’d severed all connection with her former life and gone to live with her mother in some middle-class suburb; there really was no accounting for the perversity of human nature. 

   His mind went back to his first days as a Member of Parliament in the heady atmosphere of 1945, when Britain was like a blank page to be written on at will by a jubilant Labour party. It had seemed there was nothing they couldn’t achieve as they set about dismantling the existing structures and replacing them with their blueprint for a New Britain. Life had been good then, with its abundant opportunities for those who actively subscribed to the grand design.

   In retrospect, the socialist society had been a delusion that had foundered on the rock of economic reality, but unable to accept the failure of their ideal and encouraged by the complacency of the Conservatives, Labour had spent thirty years trying to resuscitate it before being sent into the political wilderness. The wheel had finally moved on with the arrival of an uncompromisingly hard-headed Conservative government, and only the most hide-bound of his former parliamentary colleagues refused to accept that it couldn't be turned back. His political ambitions had stretched all the way to the premiership and he'd failed by the narrowest of margins, but as far as his business activities were concerned, he'd been second to none

   From the terrace of Lea Haven House, he could see perfectly maintained lawns running down to the fields and woods beyond that encompassed his domain.