The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1603: Chapter 24: The Bad Seed of Scotland Yard

In London, the most beautiful scenery always surrounds the squares distributed around the city.

The squares in the West District are fashionable, those in the North are elegant, the South towards Holborn and Oxford Street is outdated and old-fashioned, and the Northern Portman Square is magnificent, much like Grosvenor Square in the upper-class gathering Mayfair District.

Of course, benefiting from the gradual accumulation of Britain’s wealth, numerous pretentious nouveau riche-style squares have emerged in London in recent years, mainly appearing in the newly affluent areas of Chelsea, Kensington, Islington, and the south bank of the Thames River.

But if you were to ask where Arthur feels most comfortable?

He doesn’t like to cluster with the Lords in elegant and fashionable places; Belgravia and Berkeley Square are fortresses of noble life, residences for gentlemen and the wealthy, but Arthur doesn’t consider himself nobility. He hasn’t been educated at Oxford or Cambridge, nor can he speak with a standard Eton accent. Unless necessary, he has no interest in finding discomfort there.

Although, to the upper class, Arthur’s occasional York accent may seem more noble than a London accent, compared to the refined tones cultivated in Eton College, ah, this former police star is ultimately of humble origin. Forcing himself into their circle most often belongs to the realm of seeking embarrassment.

Yet Arthur’s dislike for noble gathering spots doesn’t mean he likes suburban squares that match his nouveau riche identity.

Though the people gathered there are mostly of similar social status to him, a group of Britain’s true middle class: Anglican Church priests, naval and army officers, mid-level officials in judicial, medical, and government departments, university professors, reputable headmasters of small schools, engineers, architects, and various emerging professions, such as accountants, journalists, surveyors, insurance agents, police station chiefs, and small shop owners.

However, even within the middle class, there are distinctions of high and low.

The lesser ones have a family annual income that fluctuates around 100 pounds. While these people live a decent life, they are not affluent enough to afford servants.

So, to some extent, they might be classified as leaders of the lower class.

Of course, they themselves are certainly unwilling to accept this label. If you dare to deny them membership in the middle class to their face, you’d better beware of getting punched in the nose.

To prove they belong to this class, they grit their teeth and spend the remainder of their family income on maintaining appearances.

No matter how busy they are, they must visit the theater at least once a month, and plan an annual trip without fail.

The male and female hosts must possess more than three sets of clothing to deal with various occasions, including casual wear, social attire, and grand occasion costumes used to show off.

The home must have a high-grade set of dinnerware for entertaining guests.

The male host desperately tries to possess artistic taste, squeezing his brain to decorate the house well within tight budgets.

The female host strives to learn the recipes found in various household magazines used at upper society banquets.

Compared to this group who struggles to maintain a middle-class status, families with an income of 100-300 pounds obviously live much more comfortably; most of these households can afford a full-time maid’s salary, forming the backbone of Britain’s middle class.

But living comfortably does not mean they spare themselves.

The higher one rises, much like water flowing downward, this principle holds true everywhere.

Families with an annual income of 100 pounds might restrain their behavior in aligning to upper-class lifestyles due to limited budgets, but families with incomes ranging from 100-300 pounds are different.

A representative of this is Arthur’s old friend, Assistant Secretary August Schneider from the Foreign Office.

Arthur once invited him hunting in the suburbs; when Arthur arrived at his house at seven in the morning, Mrs. Schneider ordered the maid to serve breakfast consisting of: grilled mackerel, grilled sardines, minced meat pie, fried bacon, boiled eggs, roasted potato wedges, porridge, and bread spread with jam.

According to Schneider himself, aside from doing ”big business” with Arthur, his legitimate income annually amounted to around 120 pounds to 150 pounds, while the yearly expenses on food and drink exceeded 70 pounds.

Of course, this only pertains to household dining expenses. Due to his workdays, his regular lunches are settled outside, which alone costs 30 pounds annually.

After all, a diplomat is quite an esteemed profession; if your lunch is too poor and visible to Whitehall colleagues, though they might not say anything publicly, behind closed doors, you’re likely to become a laughingstock.

Spending 100 pounds just on meals, combined with the Schneiders’ social needs, especially since Mrs. Schneider is a devoted fan of great musicians like Mendelssohn and Chopin, and has recently caught the ”bad habit” of art collection encouraged by other ”Whitehall ladies”...

Thus, it’s easily imaginable how much cash flow pressure the Schneider household is under.

No wonder Schneider often visits Nightingale Mansion to release pressure; frankly, anyone returning home to a room full of invoices would often want to whip themselves.

Due to severe financial strain, Schneider used to secretly do some ”small business,” but ever since meeting Arthur, he truly comprehended what it meant to fleece Britain’s wool and undermine Vienna’s walls; in this line of work, it’s the audacious who thrive and the timid who starve.