Author's Note:Well this is the last chapter before I go on holiday and just two hours left till London 2012! Anyway I promise to update as much as I can but if I can't for whatever reason I've left you with a nice, long chapter to keep you going! So in this chapter - our boys are back! And I promise to write more about Edward/Clarissa in the next chapter but I'm focusing on Joseph/Matthew for this one because of the - event that's coming.

So read it and please tell me what you think! x

Chapter 25 - On Wings of Valour

May 2nd 1940

The couple of weeks following Matthew's semi-breakdown proved to be a great test concerning his and Mary's marriage. He never relayed back to that night all though there was always a mutual understanding between the two of them and if anything it brought them closer together.

However their marriage was tested yet again once Joseph returned home to them. The boy that had once left his childhood home returned a young man who had seen too much for a lad his age. Those innocent blue eyes which had once shone with so much warmth and gaiety were melting away to be replaced with bleakness and fear. Edward had wrote them as often as he could mentioning the sufficient progress in his training and announcing that he too would be allowed a visit back home before he went back, coordinating it so that he arrived at the same time as Joseph.

On the morning of their arrival, Matthew drove to Downton station to pick up his sons. While he drove, he couldn't help but remember the conversation he had had with Joseph, one which changed both their lives forever.

April 10th 1939

"So Joe, are you pleased to be back for the weekend?" Matthew asked his eldest son as he happily trundled their Rolls Royce through the pleasant country roads on their way back to the Abbey, the warm Spring sun beaming gently down on them.

"Of course. I'm always pleased to come back home, you know that." Joseph answered with a small smile, staring out at the fluffy pink tufts of blossoming trees which sailed past his window.

"And how's University going?" Matthew asked, unable to keep the tinge of pride away from his voice.

Joseph shrugged breaking his gaze from the peaceful countryside, "It's all getting rather tedious actually." He muttered in a hollow voice, fidgeting with his cuffs.

Matthew frowned in confusion, "Why? Last time I saw you, you said that everything was going so well. You said that your classes were continuing nicely and the rowing team was progressing better than ever. And you seemed so sure of beating Oxford in the races this Summer." He added with a smug smirk. Joseph sighed while his father rambled on, "I knew that one day all those rowing sessions in the lake would finally pay off."

Joseph chanced a glance at his father before saying in an even voice, "Yes Papa, I did say those things. But that was long before war seemed inevitable."

The smile promptly vanished off Matthew's face. The pleasant atmosphere between them had shifted to thick tension.

"And anyway," Joseph continued in a bland tone, pointedly ignoring his father's full silence. "None of this – my classes and these silly boat races. It doesn't matter when you think about what's going on all over Europe. There isn't going to be peace with Britain, it doesn't matter what anyone says, it's all talk. Did you know that his country has brought back conscription this month? Now why do that if there isn't going to be a war on the horizon?"

Still Matthew said nothing, though his heart was beating erratically and his mind was stirring with horror. He wasn't an idiot. He was an MP for Christ's sake he knew exactly what was going on in Europe and he knew exactly what his son was going to say before he even said it. It was one of things that you could see heading towards you from miles away but felt completely powerless to prevent it from hitting you.

Joseph took a deep breath and blurted it out before his father could stop him. "Papa I'm joining the army."

Matthew swerved the car off the road and pulled it onto the grass. He drew up the handbrake and turned to glare at his son who cowered slightly in his seat. "You're doing what now?"

Joseph tried to straighten up and stare his father down. "I'm sorry to tell you like this Papa. It hasn't been an easy decision but I've been thinking, if I join up now, there might be some benefits."

"You're eighteen Joe." Matthew said with as much emphasis as he could. "You're not – not built for such things."

Joseph's eyes grew small and hard. "Why?" He asked in a tone dripping with ice, "Because I'm an aristocratic rich boy who's only exposure to a hard knock life include cricket and rowing?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Matthew countered with controlled patience. "What about school?"

"Oh don't worry." Joseph said airily, "Apparently, I'll still be able to continue studying and training at least while no official decision has been made. I'll still be able to see final exams through, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not." Matthew responded with forced calm, "I'm not sure if you'll be able to handle juggling both - occupations."

"Well, if nearer the time, things go from bad to worse then I only have one option don't I?" Joseph replied softly. "I'll have to leave University and dedicate myself full time to the war effort. That way when war does, eventually break out. I can leave straight away."

"With the army?" Matthew asked in a tight voice.

"Maybe. Or - or the RAF." Joseph re-joined with a sheepish look.

Matthew snapped his head towards him, his face etched with disbelief. "The RA What?"

"The Royal Air Force," Joseph repeated with prominence, "It's the aerial warfare service of the British Armed Forces -"

"No, I know what the RAF is Joseph!" Matthew interrupted with severe impatience, "I just cannot believe that you'd want to join it!"

"Papa a lot of my friends are actually joining the RAF in this war." Joseph responded steadily.

"So that's a reason for you to join up as well is it?" Matthew retorted heatedly, "Tell me Joe, if they jumped off a cliff would you follow them there too?"

"I knew you'd be like this!" Joseph breathed in a huff, flipping back in his seat. "It has nothing to do with them Papa, it's all my own decision! I admire the RAF and its growth since its birth at the end of the last war. I think that I could be a great contribution to it given our – well, background and status. I'm a fast learner and a hard worker. I know I'll be able to make my new Air Military career a success if I really want to. Which I do, very much."

"But we know nothing about them." Matthew said absently, staring out into the deserted field which they were parked on. "I mean really, how could planes contribute in a war?"

Joseph rolled his eyes. "This isn't 1914 anymore Papa." He said cuttingly, "Technology has changed everything and for the better."

"Have you mentioned any of this to your mother?" Matthew asked suddenly; worry creeping into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of Mary's reaction.

"No." Joseph answered after a beat. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Right, good, don't say anything to her." Matthew ordered, feeling a morsel of relief. "Not until things progress and we see what happens."

"But I can still go ahead with training can't I?" Joseph asked.

Matthew shot him a cautioning look. "Don't pretend you need my permission Joe, you know you'll just do it anyway nevertheless. If it's what you want then go ahead -"

"What I want is some support from my father!" Joseph interjected with slow anger. "It's all I ever wanted when I thought about doing this. I can handle Mama and everyone else. Whether I join the army or the RAF, as long as I have you in my corner Papa, I know I can do whatever it is."

Matthew's heart swelled with love for his eldest son after hearing those words. He knew he had no right to chastise him for being brave. Not when he should be feeling so proud and he definitely couldn't leave Joseph alone in all this. "Very well." He said in a sterile voice. "You have my – support. But let's just keep it between us for the time being all right?"

Joseph's stoic composure relaxed and he drew his finger across his lips. Matthew nodded in understanding, re-started the engine and pulled away from the field with great difficulty. He continued driving along the path back up to the house, now burdened with much, much more than he had anticipated when he left.

"Joe!" Matthew called in delight, waving at his eldest son who mulled around the platform in a daze, watching the bustle of people hurry amongst the clouds of smoke. Joseph spotted his father and gave him a half- hearted wave, turning to the person next to him who, Matthew realized with a pleasant jolt, was Edward. His second son waved back him, more enthusiastically than his brother. While they walked towards him chatting with each other, Matthew took a moment to admire them. Both boys were smartly dressed in their olive green uniform except Edward sported the smart red-cross band clutching around his upper left arm.

"Papa," Edward greeted with a small smirk, resting his duffel bag on the ground and leaning on it. "Have you enjoyed the peace and quiet of me not being around?"

Matthew quirked his brow. "I presume you've forgotten you're little brother. He's turned into quite the tearaway while you've been gone."

Edward's face drooped in mock disappointment. "Oh no! Alas, I have been replaced."

Joseph scoffed, patting his brother on the shoulder and murmuring in his ear. "No one can ever replace you Eddie. You're much too strenuous to even bother."

Edward just nodded in acceptance. "Good!"

The drive back home was more quiet than Matthew had anticipated it to be. Neither of the boys said a word except a one word answer to Matthew's forced questions. Joseph leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the lush greenery dance past his window, completely transfixed with the contrast of his life here compared to his life in the barren lands of France.

Edward skulked in the backseat, his arms crossed and his face screwed up in contemplation. "So enough about our lives Papa," He said in a loud voice, "What's going on in the big house?"

"Nothing much." Matthew answered absently, "Except we've lost one maid. Sally's abandoning us now."

"Oh, is she joining up?" Joseph asked with mild interest.

Matthew nodded, "With the MTC. She'll work out the rest of the month and then she's off."

"To fix up a bunch of engines?" Edward chimed in with distaste.

"Well now the men are almost gone, who else is going to do it?" Joseph replied impatiently. "And it's more than just fixing up engines. The Motor Transport Corps are a big contribution to the war. I say good on her."

"Yes, though I am glad for her it does put us in yet another tricky predicament, especially with the women being conscripted too." Matthew sighed. "How we can manage that house without so many servants is beyond me."

"I'm sure you'll manage, you always do." Joseph muttered. "It's not like you're planning to entertain anyone is it?"

Matthew shook his head stiffly. "All that has disappeared with the war. And when we do have your mother's little – soairees – they understand our situation. We have a cook and a butler and a housekeeper, that's all we need."

"Speaking of women conscription, Mama mentioned something about Georgina joining the police force?" Edward said in a voice smothered with aversion. "Tell me that was a joke?"

"It isn't I'm afraid." Matthew replied in amusement, "She made the moves all by herself without any encouragement from me. I think she wants to be close to home."

"What does she think she's going to gain from doing that?" Edward asked incredulously, "How are handcuffing mindless idiots all day contributing to the war effort?"

"Well you'd be surprised." Matthew said thinly, "Apparently they're quite connected to the Military Police Force and in wartime you never can be too careful."

Joseph cocked his head towards his father in sharp recognition. "What do you mean by that?"

Matthew glanced at him quickly, "Nothing, just that there are all kinds of criminals out there now and the law has altered in order to accommodate the war. The military have the upper hand."

"Are they the only people that have the upper hand?" Edward asked his father, watching his reaction carefully through the wing mirror.

Matthew frowned, "What do you mean?"

Edward raised his brow in question. "You tell me? Are you sure nothing else has happened whilst we've been away?"

"Positive. Why?"

"Only I received a letter from Rebecca about a week ago." Edward said with forced nonchalance. Matthew tensed, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Edward flicked his eyes towards his father's reflection, "Haven't we all been busy little bees?"

"Wh – what's going on?" Joseph asked, twisting himself round to face his brother, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Ask Papa." Edward replied curtly.

"Papa?" Joseph demanded, his blue eyes blazing, "What happened?"

Matthew released a rattling breath, his eyes closing briefly. "Rebecca was harassed by a Nazi sympathizer." There was no point in trying to sugar coat anything. Not with the boys. They knew too much already and quite frankly, Matthew was growing tired of sweetening every disgusting detail this war spat out at them.

"Jesus." Joseph breathed, "Who?"

"Jude Fanshawe." Matthew replied with disgust.

"The MP?" Edward asked, his dark eyes widening. "He's a Nazi supporter?"

Matthew nodded grimly. "And he's not the only one. There's more of them out there. People – people I know, people we all know."

Edward scoffed, "Well I knew that! Members of the rich and very rich who think they can rub shoulders with all the wrong kinds of people!"

Matthew didn't respond to that.

"Have you done anything about it Papa?" Edward asked.

"I've written several letters to the Military Intelligence Office informing them of my suspicions. Funnily enough they're already keeping an eye out." Matthew answered evenly.

"So are you working for the Military Intelligence Office now?" Joseph asked in awe.

Matthew shot his son a teasing grin, "Even if I was Joe, you know I couldn't say. I signed the National Secrets Act and everything I do from now is highly classified!"

Joseph laughed, "That means yes! So you're a spy?"

"I'm not saying anything, I told you!"

Edward pursed his lips and didn't say one more word until they pulled into the driveway.

Mary heard the crunch of gravel from the drawing room. "Oh the boys are back!" She exclaimed to Georgina with great excitement, both of them running out of the room, giggling.

Edward was first to race into the house, "Mama! Georgie! Look at me!" He cried out in delight, sweeping his mother and sister up in a strong embrace. "I'm officially a soldier now." He straightened up proudly, back straight, head held high.

"Yes and you've certainly become very strong." Mary said in admiration, her eyes twinkling at the sight of Edward in his uniform. She caressed the red-cross band on his arm, her heart soaring with pride.

"Do you like it Mama?" Edward asked softly, watching her reaction. "Do you think it suits me?"

"Definitely!"

Georgina rolled her eyes, "I have a feeling we're never going to hear the end of this one."

Edward did a double-take, only just noticing his sister now standing before him, dressed head to toe in a midnight blue, policewomen's dress set with collar, a whistle and a police cap resting casually atop her neatly pinned hair. "Gosh Georgie." He breathed, in an even tone, "Never mind me, look at you. You actually look smart."

Georgina adjusted her hat and grinned, "Do you think it suits me?"

Edward just gave her a wry smile, noticing some people missing. "Where are the others?"

"Well, your Granny is at hospital, Benji is at school and Rebecca's not feeling well." Mary answered, glancing past him, "Is your brother still outside?"

Edward nodded, "He's still dragging his feet."

Mary scurried outside where her eldest son was reclining against the car, chatting to Matthew.

"Joe!" She called out gleefully.

Joseph whipped around in surprise, his face brightening. "Mama!" He rushed to embrace his mother.

Mary clutched her eldest son tightly to her, grateful for every moment she had with him. "I'm so glad you're back." She kissed his wan cheek, feeling the taunt bones beneath her lips. Startled, she pulled away and scrutinized his emaciated and exhausted appearance. Skin which was once so rich and creamy now stretched like paper over his taut bones, all colour completely drained from his once rosy cheeks. "My, my how thin you've become." She tried to joke, doing everything she could to keep the intense worry out of her voice.

"I just need to eat Mama." Joseph replied with fatigue. "And I need some sleep too. It's been a very – intense week."

"Of course, of course darling." Mary said in a fluster, "Your room has already been prepared so you go on ahead. I'll bring you up some tea later."

"Thank you." Joseph hesitated briefly before re-entering the house. The familiar smell of the foyer hit him hard, bringing back a hundred of pleasant memories. He hoisted his kit bag back on his shoulder and silently trooped up the grand staircase, tracing the familiar steps to his room.

May 3rd 1940

"So what's Thomas – I mean General Barrow like?" Mary asked her second son with intrigue. They were seated comfortably in the library, sipping weak tea and munching on homemade biscuits.

Edward's face merged into a look of intense dislike, "He's probably the most unpleasant person I've ever had the misfortune to meet and that's coming from me!"

"What's he done?" Mary asked in trepidation.

Edward chuckled darkly, "Well put it this way. I wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire."

Mary's eyes widened in shock at her son's vulgar attitude, "Edward Crawley, don't say things like that!"

"In fact, I might get done for insubordination if he carries on the way he does," Edward continued in a flippant voice.

"Edward don't talk like that!"

Edward just shrugged nonchalantly, examining his fingernails, "I only meant that I'd lock him up in a pyramid or something. That wouldn't count as mutiny would it?"

"Edward Samuel Crawley you take that back!" Mary chided.

"Look, I'm sorry Mama but you should see the way he talks – no, no barks – at the others. He has no respect for us or the cause at all!" Edward took a sip of tea and nearly spat it back out, "God what is this mess! It tastes like toilet water!" He slammed the cup back onto the table and dabbed his lips with a napkin. "And why the hell is there no sugar?"

"We're trying to cut down on the amount of tea we can drink." Mary explained with sympathy, "And we're trying to be sensible in what we use our sugar for. We don't want to waste our ration coupons."

"Right, but we can drink milk by the bucket load?" Edward asked with narrowed eyes, indicating the large jug perched beside the teapot.

"Given the fact that it comes from cows on our farms -yes." Mary answered in a clipped voice.

Cutler swiftly opened the door, marching into the library. "Beg your pardon m'lady but I was wondering if I should tell Mrs Plum to get dinner ready now?"

Mary glanced at the clock, "Oh yes. Remember Cutler we're seating eight today." She added with emphasis.

He gave her a crooked smile, "Of course m'lady." And he quickly departed leaving Edward to frown curiously at his mother who was trying to cover up her guilty smile with her teacup.

"Is Grandmama coming for dinner?" He asked.

Mary shook her head, "No, no, not tonight." She tried to plaster on a false look of decorum.

Edward's frown deepened. "But isn't Georgina supposed to be working late tonight?"

"I believe so." Mary mumbled into her cup, her cheeks flushing.

Edward's brow furrowed in suspicion, "So why did you tell Cutler to set eight places? Who else is comi -"

The door to the library swung open once again, Cutler side stepped in, announcing formally, "Lady Clarissa Deveroe."

Edward leapt out of his seat like a scaled cat.

Clarissa strode shyly into the room, her hat clutched nervously in her hands. Mary stood up instantly and glided towards her. "Clarissa! So wonderful you could come!" She kissed both her cheeks in welcome.

"Hello Lady Grantham." Clarissa shot a furtive look at Edward who was fidgeting in the corner, "Hello Edward."

Edward stretched his lips into a very forced smile. "Hello Lady Clarissa."

"I wish you'd just call me Clarissa." She chuckled, "We've know each other how long?"

"So I trust your family is well?" Mary interjected, rightly fearing her son's sardonic response, "How is your mother and George?"

"Oh very well, George is coming home tomorrow." Clarissa replied happily. "I can't wait to see him again, it's been so long."

"I know how you feel my dear, Joe has just returned from France today." Mary said in an understanding voice. "Maybe you could bring George here? I know Joe would like to see him and so would Edward?" She turned to her son, "Wouldn't you darling?"

Edward released a low, angry breath, not sure which was worse. Being forced into making polite, useless conversation with Clarissa Deveroe or being called 'darling' in front of her. He glowered briefly at his mother before saying in a tone dripping with mockery. "Oh of course I'd like to see him again, I just can't think of anyone else I'd rather see!"

Mary glared at him. Fortunately Clarissa missed the sarcasm in his voice for she beamed. "I'll ask him then. I'm sure George would love to see you again Edward."

Edward groaned inwardly. Really, what would it take to get through to this girl?

"Do you like horses Clarissa?" Mary asked in a light tone.

Edward tensed his jaw in fury, knowing exactly where this was going and decided to intervene before things escalated for the worse. "Oh Mama, Clarissa doesn't want to be bored with talk of horses!" He interrupted quickly.

"Nonsense." Mary said in an underlying tone of glee, "I'm sure she'd love to see Chestnut." She smugly turned back to the girl, blatantly ignoring her son's warning scowl. "That's Edward's horse you know. Maybe he'd show him to you."

"Oh I love horses!" Clarissa squealed prompting Edward to close his eyes for a split second in defeat before plastering on a painful smile and forcing his head into a mechanic nod of agreement.

"That's settled then," Mary sung, clearly enjoying Edward's growing discomfort, "You two have fun."

"Yes, but first Mama I'd like a quick word outside if you don't mind," Edward said through gritted teeth, still maintaining a stoic smile.

"Oh but I must – check on – my azaleas and you don't want to keep Clarissa waiting." Mary said hesitantly, backing out of the library.

"This really won't take very long," Edward replied threateningly, advancing towards her while still holding his charming smile. Clarissa just blushed whenever he turned his gaze upon her.

"No, I really must insist that you stay and look after Clarissa." Edward stopped abruptly. Mary's eyes gleamed. "Whatever you have to tell me, you can say it after dinner."

"Oh don't worry." Edward said with a menacingly polite grin, "I will." Mary's eyes flickered for a moment before she shut the door on them. Edward turned to Clarissa and offered her his arm. "Let's go and see my horse shall we?"

In a trance Clarissa nodded and clutched onto Edward's arm, allowing him to lead her away from the library. On their way out of the house, they met Joseph trudging downstairs, his eyes slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep.

"Oh Clarissa you remember my brother Joe, Joe remember Lady Clarissa Deveroe?" Edward asked with disinterest.

Joseph just raised his brow at her in recognition. "Uh – of course I remember – yes you're Lord Doncaster's daughter. George's sister?" Clarissa nodded politely. "You'll have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm, I'm feeling quite exhausted at the moment."

Clarissa waved his excuse away dismissively, "No worries. I imagine being in the RAF is complicated and tiresome indeed." Both boys exchanged a glance. "I've read so many stories in the paper about pilots who are always ending up either killed or hurt in dogfights gone wrong."

Edward and Joseph's jaws dropped.

"In fact a friend of my brother's was in the RAF and he crashed just last month." Clarissa continued, oblivious to Joseph's growing despair. "All though he wasn't severely injured thank goodness, he just burnt his back."

"Oh is that all?" Edward asked, trying to keep the derision to a minimum.

Clarissa nodded, "I think it's very honourable that you all manage to support each other through it though. I can't imagine what it must actually be like."

Seeing his brother's face drain of what little colour it had left, Edward interjected quickly, "Actually Clarissa – my brother's not in the RAF anymore. He transferred into the Royal Army about six, maybe seven months ago."

Joseph closed his eyes in disgrace. He actually felt the humiliation burning into skin, scorching through his flesh at each word Clarissa said to him. Her eyes clouded over in shock, she started to profusely apologize but Edward whisked her away before she could say anything else.

Joseph's knees trembled, so much so he had to use the banister to pull himself down onto the bottom step. He buried his head in his hands, his stomach churning with complete and utter shame.

"Joe." Matthew continued down the rest of the staircase, newspaper clutched under his arm. Obviously he had heard everything. He nodded at the door where Edward and Clarissa had disappeared through. "Edward's entertaining I see."

Joseph didn't say anything. Instead he just let his head fall against the bannister with a thud. Matthew sighed, sidling down next to his son and resting his hand on his shoulder.

"It's perfectly natural to have regrets Joe." Matthew said gently, "You're very young. Indecision is part of growing up. It's just unfair to have to make such a difficult decision at your age."

Joseph held out both hands, weighing out his options. "Nothing was happening." He started in a hollow voice. "Nothing was happening in the RAF and we were all just sitting around the headquarters, waiting for something – anything to happen. Looking back on it now, I don't even know what it was we were waiting for. I didn't know it would take time for this war to get properly underway." Matthew closed his eyes at the pain embedded in his son's voice. "Then this transfer came through and I felt it was a sign for me to change and contribute. I didn't even think about the amount of important air training I had just thrown away or the wings I had worked so hard to earn. I didn't even think about the fact that I was a damn good pilot. All that work, all that preparation, all gone." He clicked his fingers, "Just like that."

"You felt like you had to do leave." Matthew said in what he hoped was a comforting tone even though he had disapproved of his son's decision from the start. "What does it matter if you were a better pilot than soldier? Remember, you said your decisions were all morally based."

Joseph licked his lips and turned his desolate blue eyes towards his father, desperate to relieve the guilt which had been plaguing his mind for months, guilt which spread like a disease, feeding off the deaths or injuries of every fighter pilot that had come into his knowledge between the now and the day he had left. "That's the thing Papa," He said in a voice above a mere whisper. "It wasn't all morally based – not entirely."

Matthew frowned, "What do you mean?" He asked slowly. "You said in your letter and-"

"I know what I said!" Joseph moaned, "But I didn't mean it. The honest truth is that I –I was bored."

"Bored?" Matthew fired out, repeating with emphasis, "You left the RAF because you were bored."

"Well maybe bored is a bit of a harsh word but I didn't feel fulfilled in just sitting around, doing aerobatics and patrolling the skies when nothing was happening. I'm so sorry Papa." Joseph sighed, tears leaking from behind his eyes, "I know I've let you down. But because nothing was going on – I thought this war wouldn't last very long and I thought I should seize my chance to – well, not be a hero per say but – to do my part. "

"I see." Matthew straightened up, his head held high as he glowered at his son, "We've never really had a chance to talk about how the RAF took the news of your – transfer."

Joseph's eyes closed at the disappointment sewn into his father's voice. "They didn't take it very well." He shot a guilty glance at his father, "The argument became rather heated and I was forced to drag your name into it."

Matthew's head snapped towards him, his eyes narrowing. "What did you tell them Joe?"

Joseph glared forcibly at the blood red carpet, seeing only his own destruction. "I just told them who you were – and the amount of power you had in the war office."

Matthew released a low breath of controlled fury. "Right, now it all falls into place. You know I've always had my suspicions in why the RAF would let an experienced pilot whom they've spent months training up, suddenly let him run off to become a soldier. Now I know."

"I'm not proud of it!" Joseph retorted, desperate to edge his own reasoning in before his father turned his back on him completely. "But it had to be done."

"Well I've never been more disappointed in you." Matthew reprimanded, pulling himself to his feet.

"What?" Joseph blurted incredulously, standing up so he was face to face with his father. "Disappointed? You don't have a clue do you? Do you think I haven't had to live with my regret? Knowing I've abandoned my fellow pilots while they risk their necks every night?"

"It's not like you went AWOL." Matthew said wearily, "Let's tone down the dramatics please."

"I'm not being dramatic!" Joseph retorted hotly. "After I got transferred what do you think I've been doing, sitting on my backside all day? This isn't like the last war! We're not pacing up and down a trench, lobbing grenades overhead and hoping it hits something!" He crossed his fingers for emphasis.

"Don't talk to me like that." Matthew hissed, his eyes glittering dangerously. "You have no clue what we went through. We didn't have the technology that you're so fortunate to have now. We didn't even have spitfires then!"

"So is that why you're giving me such a hard time? Because I'm so spoiled for choice in this war!"

"I'm giving you a hard time because from what I can see you thought you saw a better opportunity and you took it!" Matthew responded, his tone dripping with distress. He shook his head, "I thought you were made of stronger stuff Joe. Clearly I was wrong."

"That's not fair." Joseph replied with quiet anger.

"Isn't it?" Matthew countered through gritted teeth, "You need to be told my boy. Indecision seems to follow you around wherever you go."

"What do you mean by that?" Joseph shot out.

"You want to join the army, no the RAF, no the army again -"

"Papa just stop -"

"You break it off with Amelia then you want her back but as soon as you find out she might be with someone else, you give up again!" Matthew stated in frustration.

"Life isn't always black and white like that!" Joseph practically yelled, forcing Matthew to effectively shut up.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rebecca's cool voice cut through the tense atmosphere, she trooped downstairs, her eyes looking gaunt and her cheeks unusually pale. "Only we can hear your little spat upstairs. If you want to argue might I suggest you not do it on the main staircase?"

Both father and son glanced at each other guiltily.

"Sorry darling, did we wake you?" Matthew asked apologetically, "I take it you're still not well."

"I think it's this new meat rationing," Rebecca said in a jaded voice, "It's making me ill. But I fancied getting some fresh air, maybe I'll feel better."

"I'll come with you." Joseph said quickly, "I know I could use some fresh air too. And it'll give us a chance to catch up."

Without so much as a backward glance at his father, Joseph escorted his sister outside. Just as they were leaving, Edward slipped inside, smirking at his brother as they passed each other.

"I'm going to take Clarissa back to her hotel." He explained to his father. He rolled his eyes. "Get this, she –wants me to escort her there on a horse like some prince in a storybook. She didn't say as much but she's as subtle as dropping hints as I am at being voluntarily pleasant."

Matthew nodded absently. "Just be careful Ed."

Edward sidled up to his father, saying in a light voice tinged with amusement. "She feigned feeling ill so she's not staying for dinner, I think she's feeling a bit awkward. We could hear your conversation outside you know, the windows are wide open."

Matthew sighed heavily, "Could you? I'm sorry about that Edward."

"Oh don't be!" Edward said glibly, "If anything it saved me from a lot of pointless conversation, Clarissa actually shut up. I think she feels guilty as she thinks it was all her fault. Which it was."

"Edward!" Matthew scolded tiredly, "Please don't string this poor girl along."

"Don't blame me, blame Mama!" Edward retorted crossly, "She's the one who started all of this! That's why I came back in, to smugly tell her that her little scheme had backfired."

"I fear that still won't stop her." Matthew mumbled with a smile.

"Well we can only live in hope. Are you feeling all right?"

Matthew looked at his son, startled. "Why wouldn't I be? Joe and I have had worse arguments before."

"Yes but Joe was never going off to war after was he?" Edward said pointedly, "I mean I don't have an issue with it if it means I'm now the favourite child…" Matthew's cheek twitched into a grin. "But I do think you should make it up to him before he leaves. France isn't doing too well at the moment and there's talk of an invasion in the coming weeks which might coincide with Joseph's return." Matthew contemplated this fact, his stomach plummeting in despair.

"Anyway I should go and escort her royal highness before it gets dark." Edward mock saluted and trudged upstairs leaving Matthew to stand in the grand foyer, alone and completely unaware of the foreshadowing behind his son's words.

to be continued...