After the Battle of Britain he talked more frequently of the war, but it was the Blitz, in particular, that most aroused his excitement. In the air offensive on 15 September, Southampton, Manchester, Bristol, Liverpool and Cardiff were all bombed. Nicholas talked of Hawker Hurricanes and Supermarine Spitfires. He spoke of thin-fingered searchlights clutching at the sky, of anti-aircraft fire sparking in all directions, of explosions, smoke, civilians burned to cinders in their demolished homes. Calamity was glorious, tragedy was seductive. Something in the shattering of substance attracted and inspired him. Perdita knew he wanted to be in London to see it falling down about him, to sniff death and to enjoy the disaster of warfare. Cuttings from the Western Mail began appearing tacked to the walls: grainy and imprecise vistas, buildings aflame beneath flourishes of smoke, figures huddled in bomb shelters, sometimes with insect-like masks, a German plane – one of the most imprinting and memorable images of all – heading downwards, like a crucifix, straight into the earth.
