Kibitzers On The Hill

Prologue-II.

October 1916

United University Club, London

The Under-Secretary of State for India entered the opulently furnished lounge with his head held high, his stocky figure giving no signs of trepidation or discomfort. The Under-Secretary  was the type of person who didn't attract too much attention, but just enough. His dark, almost Stygian hair was combed neatly and parted unusually to one side. Both his Savile Row suit and tie were matching shades of blue, navy blue to be precise. Stoical was engraved into his personality, the hardships he had endured a predecessor to his relative success now. Pain was something he had inhaled in the past and was ready to take in even now.  Not many people knew him, but those who did knew he was not someone to be trifled with. His presence ricocheted off the walls and spread just like sound reflecting around a cinema hall.  He sat down at one of the round tables dotted around the room and waited for his guest to arrive. His guest was an old school chum,but this meeting was no casual get-together. The India Office had asked for  something way more important.

The Under-Secretary rose as he saw Sir Finlay enter, accompanied by a whiff of cigar smoke trailing in the distance, "Your little Scottish arse doesn't seem as Scottish as it was back in the days, eh?"                                                                                                                                                                                 "The same way your stomach looks like Big Ben's been stuffed inside you", Sir Finlay shot back before asking,"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

The Under-Secretary rubbed the crease lines on his forehead before adding, "I'm going to make this short and sweet. The Bihar and Orissa Province needs a new Lieutenant Governor and the India Office wants you to get out there and tame those weensy little Indian scoundrels."

***

Sir Finlay Wright had once been Tory Chief Whip, back when  Arthur Balfour was the leader. In the seemingly-short span between now and then, the Motherland had been cruel to him. His two eldest sons had both died in Newcastle, his wife had found another man and his youngest son didn't seem to appreciate life. Sir Finlay's life was now an anarchy of angst and a story of sadness. Maybe, going to India was the change he needed. Yes, that's what he needed. A goddamn change of scene was what he needed.

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