PRECIPICE

A World War I novel of love, politics, and a continent gone mad.

In 1914, British prime minister H.H. Asquith, a 61-year-old married man, carries on an affair with 26-year-old Venetia Stanley. Those surrounding the two know of their friendship but not of its depth, though some wonder. Asquith harbors an obsession with Venetia—when they’re apart, he writes her letters up to three times a day, expecting and generally receiving prompt responses. Meanwhile, DS Paul Deemer investigates the accidental drowning of Asquith’s son. Since Venetia was listed as a witness, he questions her. But with a war in the offing, he’s told by higher-ups at Scotland Yard to also quietly investigate the odd relationship that some suspect. “Prime,” as Venetia calls her lover, feels the constant need to tell her what’s happening at the office. When war breaks out, he shares secret information with her: troop requirements, battle losses, ammunition shortages—all by regular mail, reminding her not to share what she learns. “The enclosed telegram from our Ambassador at Petersburg wh. came on Friday night will interest you,” one note says. The narrator notes: “A thin sheet of Foreign Office paper was a poor exchange for sweet verbena, but it was the only bouquet he had. What greater proof could he offer of his love, of his dependence on her, of his absolute confidence in her loyalty and discretion?” Never mind dependence; the man is nearly driven to distraction. Meanwhile, Deemer steams open the intercepted envelopes, reports to his boss, and sends the letters on their way. German spies are thought to be everywhere in Britain. Fortunately, Deemer is not one of them. A grisly war is on, to which politicians and generals send young men to die by the tens of thousands, to the benefit of no one. Over 100,000 soldiers on both sides perish at the Dardanelles in Turkey because of Churchill’s insistence on attacking there. The world has indeed gone mad, but Venetia hasn’t. She wants to become a frontline nurse, but to do that she must extricate herself from her needy lover. The pair are real historical figures, while Deemer is fictional. The letters from Asquith are genuine, while the author invented those from Venetia. Asquith apparently burned them.

A foolish affair and a horrible war that will grab and hold readers’ attention.