“And, more important, who is going to cook it?” added Ted.
“We’ll have to ask Dotty Cuthbert if she can spare Mrs Travis for the evening,” said Hazel. “No one on the island is a better cook.”
“And we’ll also need her butler, not to mention the rest of her staff,” added Ted.
By now Charles was onto his third page.
“You’d better deal with Lady Cuthbert, my dear,” said Ted. “I’ll try to square Mick Flaherty.”
“Our next problem will be the drink,” said Hazel. “Don’t forget, the last Governor emptied the cellar a few days before he left.”
“And the Foreign Office refuses to restock it,” Ted reminded her. “Jonathan Fletcher has the best cellar on the island …”
“And, God bless him, he won’t expect to be at the top table,” said Hazel.
“If we’re limited to fourteen places, the top table’s looking awfully crowded already,” said Ted.
“Dotty Cuthbert, the Bendalls, the Flahertys, the Hodges,” said Hazel, writing down the names. “Not to mention the Prime Minister, the Chief Justice, the Mayor, the Chief of Police, plus their wives… Let’s hope that some of them are indisposed or abroad.” She was beginning to sound desperate.
“Where’s he going to sleep?” asked Charles innocently.
“God, I hadn’t thought of him sleeping,” said Ted.
“He’ll have to take our bedroom. It’s the only one with a bed that doesn’t sink in the middle,” said Hazel.
“We’ll move into the Nelson Room for the night, and suffer those dreadful woodwormed beds and their ancient horsehair mattresses.”
“Agreed,” said Hazel. “I’ll make sure all our things are out of the Queen Victoria Room by this evening.”
“And, Charles,” said the Governor, “phone the Foreign Office, would you, and find out Mountbatten’s likes and dislikes. Food, drink, eccentric habits anything you can discover. They’re sure to have a file on him, and this is one gentleman I don’t want to catch me out.”
The private secretary turned over yet another page of his pad, and continued scribbling.
For the next hour, the three of them went over any and every problem that might arise during the visit, and after a self-made sandwich lunch, departed in their different directions to spend the afternoon making begging calls all round the island.
It was Charles’s idea that the Governor should appear on the local television station’s early-evening news programme, to let the citizens know that a member of the Royal Family would be visiting the island the following day. Sir Ted ended his broadcast by saying that he hoped as many people as possible would be at the airport to welcome “the great war leader” when his plane touched down at four the following afternoon.
While Hazel spent the evening cleaning every room that the great war leader might conceivably enter, Charles, with the aid of a torch, tended to the flowerbeds that lined the driveway, and Ted supervised the shuttling of plates, cutlery, food and wine from different parts of the island to Government House.
“Now, what have we forgotten?” said Ted, as he climbed into bed at two o’clock that morning.
“Heaven only knows,” Hazel said wearily before turning out the light. “But whatever it is, let’s hope Mountbatten never finds out.”
The Governor, dressed in his summer uniform, with gold piping down the sides of his white trousers, decorations and campaign medals across his chest, and a Wolsey helmet with a plume of red-over-white swan’s feathers on his head, walked out onto the landing to join his wife. Hazel was wearing the green summer frock she had bought for the Governor’s garden party two years before, and was checking the flowers in the entrance hall.
“Too late for that,” said Ted, as she rearranged a sprig that had strayed half an inch. “It’s time we left for the airport.”
They descended the steps of Government House to find two Rolls-Royces, one black, one white, and their old Rover standing in line. Charles followed closely behind them, carrying the red carpet, which he dropped into the boot of the Rover as his master stepped into the back of the leading Rolls-Royce.
The first thing the Governor needed to check was the chauffeur’s name.
“Bill Simmons,” he was informed.
“All you have to remember, Bill, is to look as if you’ve been doing this job all your life.”
“Right, Guv.”
“No,” said Ted firmly. “In front of the Admiral, you must address me as ‘Your Excellency’, and Lord Mountbatten as ‘My Lord’. If in any doubt, say nothing.”
“Right, Guv, Your Excellency.” Bill started up the car and drove towards the gates at what he evidently considered was a stately pace, before turning right and taking the road to the airport. When they reached the terminal fifteen minutes later a policeman ushered the tiny motorcade out onto the tarmac, where the combined bands were playing a medley from
As he stepped out of the car Ted came face to face with three ranks of soldiers from the Territorial Army standing at ease, sixty-one of them, aged from seventeen to seventy. Ted had to admit that although they weren’t the Grenadier Guards, they weren’t “Dad’s Army” either. And they had two advantages: a real-live Colonel in full dress uniform, and a genuine Sergeant Major, with a voice to match.
Charles had already begun rolling out the red carpet when the Governor turned his attention to the hastily- erected barriers, where he was delighted to see a larger crowd than he had ever witnessed on the island, even at the annual football derby between Suffolk and Edward Island.
Many of the islanders were waving Union Jacks, and some were holding up pictures of the Queen. Ted smiled and checked his watch. The plane was due in seventeen minutes. The Prime Minister, the local Mayor, the Chief Justice, the Commissioner of Police and their wives were lining up at the end of the red carpet. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky. As Ted turned in a slow circle to take in the scene, he could see for himself that everyone had made a special effort.
Suddenly the sound of engines could be heard, and the crowd began to cheer. Ted looked up, shielded his eyes, and saw an Andover of the Queen’s Flight descending towards the airport.
It touched down on the far end of the runway at three minutes before the hour, and taxied up to the red carpet as four chimes struck on the clock above the flight control tower.
The door of the plane opened, and there stood Admiral of the Fleet the Earl Mountbatten of Burma, KG, PC, GCB, OM, GCSI, GCIE, GCVO, DSO, FRS, DCL (Hon), LLD (Hon), attired in the full dress uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet (summer wear).
“If that’s what he means by ‘fairly informal’, I suppose we should be thankful that he didn’t ask us to lay on an official visit,” murmured Hazel as she and Ted walked to the bottom of the steps that had been quickly wheeled into place.
As Mountbatten slowly descended the stairway, the crowd cheered even louder. Once he stepped onto the red carpet the Governor took a pace forward, removed his plumed hat, and bowed. The Admiral saluted, and at that moment the combined bands of town and police struck up the national anthem. The crowd sang “God Save the Queen” so lustily that the occasional uncertain note was smothered by their exuberance.
When the anthem came to an end the Governor said, “Welcome to St George’s, sir.”
“Thank you, Governor,” replied Mountbatten.
“May I present my wife, Hazel.” The Governor’s wife took a pace forward, did a full curtsey, and shook hands with the Admiral.
“How good to see you again, Lady Barker. This is indeed a pleasure.”
The Governor guided his guest to the end of the red carpet and introduced him to the Prime Minister and his wife Sheila, the local mayor and his wife Caroline, the Chief Justice and his wife Janet, and the Commissioner of Police and his latest wife, whose name he couldn’t remember.
“Perhaps you’d care to inspect the guard of honour before we leave for Government House,” suggested Ted, steering Mountbatten in the direction of Colonel Hodges and his men.
“Absolutely delighted,” said the Admiral, waving to the crowd as the two of them proceeded across the tarmac towards the waiting guard. When they still had some twenty yards to go, the Colonel sprang to attention, took three paces forward, saluted and said crisply, “Guard of Honour ready for inspection, sir.”
