Arthur followed the army for a couple of hours as they entered the streets of London, but this wasn't the London he knew. After the blitz it had been destroyed, but this was utter devastation. It looked like new buildings and bridges had been built and some restored, but then they must have been bombed again. Another blitz perhaps?

"No… it doesn't make any sense!" he uttered to himself "We won the war…"

Still he followed the Army and Antonio Carriedo, till they entered some army barracks. He slipped in unseen behind them and watched Antonio from behind a wall. Maybe he could let him know he was there, and perhaps if he stepped forward…

At least that's what he was thinking. After all Antonio would be the only one who knew him, but something made him stop. A beautiful young girl of no more than 17 ran out to meet him from the family area of the barracks. "Papa!" she cried and hugged him.

Arthur's heart broke right there… for he recognised that girl, and she wasn't just any girl, she was Brittany, 17 years old, with beautiful silky blonde hair, the greenest of eyes, and the features of both her parents present in her effortlessly lovely face. It was his precious little flower, and she was calling Antonio Papa? Hugging him?

"No… I'm your Papa…" he whispered to himself. This wasn't right, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder what in the world had happened. It took all the strength in the world not to start sobbing but he couldn't stop the tears. He just turned away and hid his face in his arm on the side of the wall. "I'm your Papa…" he uttered. "W…what happened…? Why?"

As he stood there trying to be inconspicuous, he heard two men approaching from behind and so he hid in the woods and tried to keep quiet. One of them was an albino who looked remarkably like Gilbert Beilschmidt but he was more refined, younger and wore glasses. The other was taller and square jawed, but had slicked back brown hair, they spoke German, some of which Arthur could understand. They walked right past him and didn't see him, towards the barracks where they were greeted by Antonio, and by Brittany, and they all went inside. Arthur watched and he could clearly see the looks that taller one was giving his daughter, lewd looks. He didn't like it one bit, not to mention the other one who was also coming on to her, telling her how pretty she looked. Arthur knew what was on his mind…

He had to get inside the barracks so he could see what was going on with everyone, and hopefully without being seen. He also wanted to know why Brittany was calling Antonio Papa.

Sneaking up to the window, he could see them gathering at the table for dinner to be served. Antonio was there, and the two men he'd seen, also Gilbert who must have arrived earlier, and Ludwig. He watched as Feliciano also entered the room and greeted everyone, sitting down next to Ludwig.

"Floreat!" he said as he kissed the young man with the slicked brown hair. It was obvious he was his son with Ludwig. The other was clearly Gilberts son, and Feliciano greeted him too. "Romeo, we are so glad you could come!" he said.

"Ve thought it best, on zis the anniversary of our great victory." Romeo said in his strong German accent. "Und I vas looking forward to meeting ze beautiful Brittany…" he said as he took her hand and kissed it.

She smiled courteously, and even flirted a little but she couldn't have liked that, at least that's how Arthur saw it. Antonio sat there laughing and pouring the wine. "FRANCIS!" he called.

As he watched from the window, out of sight of everyone his heart leapt when he saw Francis enter the room with a large pot of something that smelled quite delicious. He sat down next to Antonio who kissed him and pulled him on to his knee. Everyone looked happy, but Arthur wanted to scream. Why had this happened? Why was Francis doing that? He could hardly hear a word that was said, and he wanted to know more so he searched for a way inside. On the first floor, round the back, a window was open, and so he climbed up the drainpipe and opened it some more before hauling himself inside. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do, but he needed some information, perhaps he could listen outside the door to what they were saying. As he was sneaking along the corridor he heard someone come up the stairs and so he ducked into the nearest bedroom, and then into the closet where he hid. The bedroom door opened and it was Francis. He sighed and closed the door behind him. He really didn't look happy, not in the slightest, so all of what went on downstairs must have been an act. Sitting down on the bed, he took out a photograph of Arthur from his bedside cabinet and gazed at it. "Mon Cher…" he uttered. "It is 17 years to the day since you died…" he said "Oh I miss you…"

Arthur wanted to step out of the closet there and then, to comfort him, to tell him he was alive, but he had to stay where he was, because someone else entered. Antonio was there and he looked like he wasn't in the best of moods either.

"What's the matter with you ? You've been in a sulk all day." he said. "I don't like making excuses for you."

"You know fine well what day it is…" Francis said sadly. "It is 17 years since Arthur died…" he said softly. "I cannot face them. I also do not like the way Romeo Beilschmidt looks at Brittany. I want you to ask them to leave… "

"You just don't get it do you Francis?" Antonio laughed. "Why do you think I invited them?" he said "Its time she found a husband… and one of those German boys is just right… we need the money anyway."

"Money…? What money?"

"Listen you little French Fancy, we're broke, we don't have two pennies to rub together. She is the only asset we have. She marries Romeo or Floreat, and we're back in business… good for the economy and that sort of thing…"

"Antonio!" Gasped Francis "You are using your step daughter as collateral? How could you?" he uttered, shaking with anger. "Arthur will be turning in his grave!"

"You don't think your precious Arthur would have done the same thing? Hm?" growled Antonio. It was obvious he had been drinking, and he was losing his temper quickly.

"He never would! He loved her! He loved me!"

"Oh, did he? But he just up and disappears… that's really a man who loves you Francis. Leave the past behind and get with the program. If we don't marry her off, we'll be even more broke than we are already." he roared, right in his face. Francis shook with both anger and fear of him.

"He died!" wept Francis "He would never have left me!"

In anger, Antonio struck Francis, and made him fall down. "He didn't fucking love you! Get it into your thick skull!" he roared drunkenly.

Arthur watched from the closet, fighting every instinct in his body to attack Antonio for the things he was saying and doing. And why did Francis think he was dead? He wasn't dead, he was right there… and yet… he thought… he was dead. He realised that something must have happened, and he didn't get back home, like he was planning to. For the past 17 years Francis had to bring up Brittany on his own… no wonder he felt he had to marry someone else. Even so, it felt like a betrayal. Arthur had to repeat to himself that Francis thought he was dead, because he couldn't bear to think of him with Antonio and loving him and being with him.

After slapping the Frenchman a few more times, Antonio angrily left the room, slamming the door and leaving poor Francis on the bed crying.

Arthur wanted to come out of that closet and give Francis the love and comfort he deserved but he hadn't seen him for 17 years. Working it out in his head it must therefore be the year 1963. It was only a day for Arthur, but how was he going to step out of a closet and be there for him? What would he say. "Hello Francis I'm back… Honey I'm home…?" It would be too much of a shock. He knew that. He waited till Francis calmed himself down and fell into a troubled sleep before he left the closet. He went over to him and stood by the bed, just for a moment, wanting so much to hold him and be there for him, but he could not. Quietly he left the room and went downstairs, still trying not to be seen by anyone and being quite successful at it. His heart was just about breaking through. Antonio had turned into a bastard, and he wanted to marry poor Brittany off to one of those Beilschmidt boys. He had to do something, but what? He couldn't let this happen, not to Francis and certainly not to Brittany. As he sneaked out of the front door, even then he was thinking about how to save his daughter and the man he loved.