In a large room in Church House, the London headquarters of the Church of England, a group of men are deep in discussion.
‘We cannot start a civil war.’ Says an older head, this one is in a white collar and purple shirt.
‘We won’t start it. We’ll just be ready to fight it.’ Says a younger and hotter head, this one also has a white collar and purple shirt.
‘Men are drilling in some of the northern towns,’ Says a third.
‘And in the countryside in the South.’ Says the younger and hotter head.
‘Some of those are your men.’ Says the older head.
‘No.’ Said the younger and hotter head. ‘The men are friends of Ours.’
‘But what’s our aim? The Church can not overthrow the King.’
‘ We must stop the marriage.’ This from another head. ‘And if we can’t, then Edward must go and Albert must take the crown in his place.’
'Albert won’t openly stand against Edward. Anyway, he is taking his family to Canada.’
‘Good. We do all the dirty work and he can reunite the country.’
‘And Mosley. He must go as well. New elections.’
‘But we are agreed we must do something?’
‘Yes.’
‘YES.’ Some of the yeses are more enthusiastic than others.
All the men know that action was needed, But civil war in England was almost unthinkable.
‘We need a name if we cannot do it in Albert’s name.’
‘And no use of the words, ‘Church of England.’
‘English Union?’
‘Sounds like a football team.’
‘Too fascist.’
‘Albion League?’
‘We’re the Anglican Church, so why not Anglican League?’
‘Yes.’
‘Very good.’ The room was filled with the sounds of agreement.
‘Gentlemen. A toast - ‘The Anglican League’.’
The chorus rang round the room.
‘The Anglican League.’
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