Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Ambition

Chairman Balfour liked afternoon tea time.

That doesn't mean he liked tea. Whether black tea or coffee, he absolutely couldn't understand other nobles talking that they can't live a day without tea.

Even at coffee houses or social clubs, he only swallowed one or two sips of the ordered tea out of courtesy, and never properly drank even once.

Black tea and coffee.

Just drinking the heart pounds, and sometimes there were many times of losing night sleep. Sometimes the stomach even became bitter.

Someone praised that this drink clears the mind and relieves fatigue, but Chairman Balfour disliked the bitter taste and astringent taste more than that.

The wife recommended putting Golden Syrup in tea every time, but Balfour refused even that. When Golden Syrup became controversial due to hygiene problems it was to the point goosebumps rose and nausea surged.

Having to drink tea forcibly even putting Golden Syrup, all that is bluff, right.

He firmly believed that such bluff rampant in high society is exactly the appearance that the British Empire must reject to remain a country where the sun doesn't set for hundreds of years.

If it flows like this this country will definitely collapse.

Balfour accurately foresaw that inevitable future through the numerous materials he receives reports on as President of the Board of Trade every day.

Make products, open markets and sell them off. And earn money.

This is the management ideology that forms the foundation of the current British Empire.

But that is also the end now. No matter how hard one tries to sell goods to the colonies, their purchasing power itself is falling so in the end the empire had no choice but to walk a downhill path.

Growth reached the limit point, and the enormous military expenses and administrative costs that go into maintaining the huge empire were rather causing fatal damage to the finances.

Already the finances were in deficit due to the 2nd Boer War. If going like this and one or two more big wars break out within ten years, the empire will literally split and collapse from the inside.

Because of such worries Balfour was afraid to fall asleep every night. The only thing people don't bother him is only the afternoon tea time of one or two hours a day.

So he liked afternoon tea. The reason he shows his face at the Carlton Club without fail even without drinking tea.

And for the same reason, Balfour extremely disliked people who interfere with afternoon tea.

So when someone suddenly asked the intention of visiting, he felt the impulse of wanting to splash the hot tea full in an instant on the face.

If that visitor wasn't the first-term House of Commons member of the same party and the son of former Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir Randolph Churchill, he wouldn't have even responded from the start.

'Who? Winston Churchill? A phone call came?'

Winston Churchill. There's a memory that briefly passed in the parliament. The age was young, but that ambition and boldness, the disrespectful gaze couldn't be forgotten. Because he was a person who seemed to cause a big accident sometime, a young politician he tried not to get close to.

But to that father, Sir Randolph Churchill there was a slight debt of the heart.

A few years ago, the time Sir Churchill was Chancellor of the Exchequer. He confirmed that the colonial management state of the British Empire was the worst, and was startled and cried that if not reforming immediately the country will collapse.

Enormous amount of military budget reduction, and fiscal austerity. Especially he went around earnestly appealing that the navy budget should be reduced and that money should be used for citizens.

However this claim, frontally collided with the mainstream faction of the Conservative Party who firmly believed the reason the British Empire developed this much was thanks to imperialism.

In the end Sir Churchill even said the extreme talk that the noble-centered Conservative Party operation is the biggest problem, and a line change to receive support from a wider class is needed, and was disliked by Prime Minister Marquis of Salisbury and ousted at once.

For Chairman Balfour it was rather fortunate. Because he also almost made the same claim. Of course he wouldn't have gone to ouster because he was the nephew and godson that Marquis of Salisbury cherished a lot.

Anyway Balfour who watched Sir Churchill's ouster decided to shut his mouth, and thanks to that he was able to safely keep the seat until now.

His heart weakened and in the end he called Winston Churchill.

As soon as he saw him he acted like a small person just looking so he disliked even more and only the heart became more uncomfortable. It was a completely different appearance from his father.

He first greatly deducted the score of son Churchill. There will be no opportunity to see once more next time.

'Member Churchill. If your father Sir Randolph Churchill wasn't a long-time close friend with my older brother, I wouldn't have given even this brief time. There's no time, so speak from the main point.'

'So-sorry. If you were displeased I'll apologize. Then first this...'

'What is this?'

'It's a miracle jam called Nutella. Even if the color is like this the taste is somewhat not bad so it will suit your heart.'

Certainly it was. From the color it was unpleasant, and just looking it looked handmade so he didn't know what was put in and was reluctant.

However Churchill without hesitation thickly spread that jam on the scone placed on the table. And started eating greedily.

That appearance looked so gluttonous, so saliva automatically gathered even in Balfour's mouth that was full of negative thoughts.

'...Let me see. Seeing the sincerity I'll try tasting.'

And Chairman Balfour who carefully pushed in one bite the scone spread with that jam, almost lost his mind for a moment at that softness and sweet taste!

Chocolate! Clearly chocolate he occasionally ate, but that taste was beyond imagination!

Butter? Cream? Hazelnut? What on earth was it made of to be this soft? The bitter taste of black tea that remained unpleasantly in the mouth until now perfectly disappeared with that one bite!

'Chairman, if it's not rude I'd like to inform the best combination that goes with this jam that I just thought of.'

Balfour nodded without realizing. It was an action he absolutely wouldn't have done normally.

Then Churchill called the waiter who was always on standby.

Victoria cake, crepe, apple pie and custard tart.

He ordered a large amount of dessert that even two people eating couldn't eat all but didn't stop. Because curiosity was aroused at some point.

Things he usually avoided because he dislikes whipped cream, dislikes too greasy, because it's feminine food that the ladies of the tea party enjoy.

But as Member Churchill said, if sprinkling this miracle jam?

The two people ate away absentmindedly. At that moment politics and whatever were all forgotten.

The sweet taste overflowed full in the mouth, to the point one had to rinse the mouth with bitter black tea instead!

Suddenly coming to senses, half of the tea time had already passed.

At the same time Chairman Balfour whose mind cleared, started suspecting from why Member Churchill brought this delicious chocolate jam he tasted for the first time in his life to himself.

By any chance is this, a bribe to watch him well?

If a person with political sense to the point of bringing such a bribe first, the thought that he might have to slightly revise the evaluation came.

However Member Churchill brought out another talk.

'You, what did you just say? The person who made this jam wants to see me?'

Rather if taking advantage of the atmosphere improved thanks to this jam he made some other political proposal the evaluation might have risen more. As expected he was a friend only up to this level.

Tsk, the good feeling sank in an instant. Chairman Balfour sent Churchill out, and decided to meet that man who said he'd see him.

Made jam? Probably a lowly working class chef. Is he going to sell the recipe?

It wasn't a bad deal. Rather because it was attractive to the point of wanting to ask that recipe.

It was regrettable to end eating this jam only once. So the picky Chairman Balfour repeatedly did actions he wouldn't normally do.

And the young man who appeared.

Balfour was quite surprised at that appearance.

The age looked much younger than Churchill.

But there was no way not to recognize the small mark attached on the suit he was wearing.

Horace and Tucker!

Isn't it the highest-end tailor shop operated by the most excellent master tailor on Savile Row that tailors royal court formal wear.

Just in time the clothes he was wearing now were also tailored there.

Compared to the wrinkled and shabby suit Member Churchill was wearing the fabric was also sharply edged, it seems not long since tailored.

He thought an ordinary working class chef would appear, but what appeared was a young master one might see at some duke's house.

Jean-Paul Durand? I think I've heard somewhere? Who said? Was it the Earl of Derby?

But there's no high noble with a French name in Britain? Balfour fell into confusion for a moment.

But this young man who suddenly brings out investment talk. The thought of trying to buy the recipe disappeared in an instant to the point of the sudden proposal.

What on earth is the intention? He tried to organize thoughts for a moment, but the words the young man suddenly brought out stabbed and entered his most painful part.

This was a foul. Afternoon tea hasn't even ended yet, pulling him to reality!

Moreover 'identity'? Is this young man saying the British Empire has no identity?

"I rather want to ask Chairman. Is there something that can be called current identity in the British Empire?"

"What?"

If comparing boldness he was one step above Member Churchill. Counter-questioning the question? Chairman Balfour was dumbfounded and speechless.

If it was uncle Marquis of Salisbury he would have immediately gotten angry and kicked him out in front of his eyes, but unfortunately he wasn't the uncle.

Moreover the topic the young man threw was also the worry he was rolling most seriously recently.

If there was a person in this London pondering about future identity and integration, he was even harboring the thought of making him his subordinate employee right away.

So Chairman Balfour instead of getting angry, answered politely.

"There isn't."

"Yes, right. There isn't. That's the problem."

"There isn't. So what are you going to do?"

Even just the British mainland the identities of English, Scottish, Irish, Welsh are each different.

In Wales Welsh is heard, Scotland's festivals are unfamiliar, if going to Ireland potato dishes come out to the point of getting tired.

Even the inside of the British island is like this, what on earth is world grand integration? So didn't they forcibly integrate with force and diplomacy.

The young man pointed with his finger at the empty Nutella tub on the table.

"In my thought identity originates from a sense of homogeneity."

"Sense of homogeneity?"

"It's that emotion of seeing the same phenomenon and recalling the same thought. If even seeing the same thing one thinks differently, fusion is difficult. Even in London it's hard to see Scottish people going around wearing kilts. Because they point fingers saying it's unsightly. But in Scotland that's a natural traditional attire."

"You, do you have a habit of lengthening obvious words? So what's the conclusion?"

Chairman Balfour while tapping the table with his finger, at some point felt himself being gradually pulled into this young man's logic.

The given 1 minute had already passed. However neither Balfour nor that young man cared about the time constraint anymore.

"Cultural differences injected from birth can never be changed. Because Britons thinking British-style, Indians thinking Indian-style is the principle of nature. But there's one thing common to all humans, that can't be changed. Exactly the attitude toward 'taste'. Let's try making this into cultural identity."

"Attitude toward taste...?"

"Expressing sweet as sweet, bitter as bitter, sour as sour is natural if human. There's no person who says sweet taste is bitter taste, sour taste is sweet taste, right? Looking at the Nutella Chairman ate, it seems you emptied it deliciously. Even if taking this jam to India or Canada, Australia everyone will say it's delicious the same."

It's correct talk. Chairman Balfour couldn't hide the smile naturally floating on his face.

He became curious how this young man would finish this story.

"So?"

"Make this jam the identity of the British Empire. It's a strategy of forming identity through universal experience. Citizens of the British Empire can enjoy such delicious jam to their heart's content, but citizens of Russia or Spain can't. How is it?"

"...You, you're having quite a sinister thought. So what's the plan?"

"Please make a special tariff."

"Tariff?"

"Reduce taxes on Nutella circulated within the British Empire so even commoners can easily eat, but when exporting to other countries impose tariffs and rip off a lot of taxes. If only this jam gains popularity, the profit obtained from tariffs will be much bigger. It will also be a big help to the empire's finances."

Balfour had a hard time holding laughter. It was a scheme to the point of wanting to take him to the Board of Trade right away and make him a successor.

If only such excellent young men are full in the British Empire the future ahead would be much brighter!

The plan was sufficiently rational. The potential destructive power this chocolate jam named Nutella has, he was desperately realizing because he just tasted it.

Traditionally there is no delicious food in Britain.

The reason is unknown. Thinking about it even he mainly ate French or German cooking, or curry brought from colonial India.

If putting forward this special and mysterious jam as a specialty unique to Britain here?

Perhaps he might be able to focus the attention of the world's people.

But there was also a flaw in this young man's logic. Balfour couldn't help but point that out.