Jake & Ted’s Grand Campaign:
A UK Pub Crawl Through WW2
March 20, 1936
White Hart, Great Yeldham
When they reached the point where Toppesfield Rd. ended, and High St. became Poole, Jake and Ted could hardly wait to get out of the driving winds with the rain that was carried upon it. This was the worst storm yet of a particularly turbulent March. They were fortunate to happen upon the Hart, which promised both a place to stay, and perhaps a pint or two as the evening required.
Mrs. Martin was the proprietor, who in the tradition of all of the owners dating back to Mr. Ffrench himself, welcomed the two travelers with a warm smile and happy hello. Jake and Ted were all too happy to return the greeting and set up at a table farthest from the door, to minimize the chance of an unfortunate draft, reminding them of what they had just escaped.
“Well, Ted, it’s been two months since Eddie has taken on the role of our beloved King, what do you think so far?” Jake had already quaffed half of his glass, moments after it had been place in front of him. He’d also developed a bit of a temper after their car had broken down after their most recent call. Ted had been no help in attempting to push the vehicle out of the mire, something about wrecking his one pair of good shoes. But it’s not like Jake could have gotten out to push the car, he was clearly the superior conductor of the vehicle, despite this particular unfortunate steering mishap. Who knew the road might veer off suddenly if you look away for a couple of minutes while talking to your passenger…
“Well, I’ll tell you, this waiting for a year between death and coronation seems like extremely bad luck. It’s like were expecting something horrible to happen.” Ted was still shaking from the cold, and could hardly take a drink due to the shaking. Hardly but not impossible, and it was an endeavor worth pursuing. How cold someone possibly believe that driving without looking at the road could be a good idea? And on top of that, to think that someone else ought to be the one to get into the muck to rectify the error!
“I thought that you weren’t superstitious?”
“I’m only superstitious when it is an appropriate time to be so…” Ted never liked the idea that there might be some force which dictated success or failure, not by what was invested into solving the issue, but rather by whether or not wood had been touched, salt thrown, mirrors remaining intact, or the sanctity of a ladder’s underside being respected.
“Don’t you worry that if you intentionally treat some situations with superstitious derision that you will end up with some form of a karmic backlash against your fatalistic disdain?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, aren’t you worried that in those circumstances where you are not superstitious, that you will end up with the worst outcome because to whatever it is that controls the luck of the universe, you don’t seem to care?” Jake was smiling, as he realized from the look on Ted’s face, that Ted had considered this exact scenario, and never fully rationalized an appropriate response.
“This is complete nonsense, all of this talk of fates. You know as well as I do, that we make our own way in this world. Although, given that I have to travel with you, it would seem that your premise may, in fact, be true.” Ted said somewhat snarkily before taking a long sip on his ale, the chill finally starting to subside from his bones.
“Anyway, you were concerned that waiting a year from death to coronation was a bad sign.” Jake prompted.
“Well, not that I have any real basis for thinking something may be untoward, but it just seems to me that our parliament and our King seem to be working at cross-purposes… Well perhaps not that, but more that the relationship between Baldwin and Edward doesn’t seem to be as cordial as perhaps I feel it should. Given this, the rumours of this American, and what seem to be somewhat questionable foreign sympathies, once again, if the rumours are true, I wonder what sort of a monarchial reign we are in for?”
“Who are we to judge the actions of a King?” Jake started.
“You just asked me to!” Interjected an exasperated Ted.
“Well, that was before I realized you thought ill of our monarch.” Jake smiled.
“I don’t think ill of our King. I merely worry that this confluence of events and rumours may not bode well for the longevity of the reign of this particular King.” Ted knew he was being goaded, but could not shy away from the bait, regardless of how hard he tried.
“Fair enough.” Jake didn’t want to upset Ted too much, after all, he still had a car to move. “I personally think that if your purported rumours regarding the not-so-warm-and-fuzzy relationship between our King and Baldy are true, it’ll be Eddy that prevails, after, He’s the King.”
“Jake, it’s not that I’m concerned about who will win between them, it is more that I am concerned that Britain will lose because of a potential division in our nation’s leadership.”