The Collected Short Stories

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer
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are sure to be a lot of musical feathers that will need unruffling, I’ll leave you to deal with them, Hazel. Our next problem is how we transport him from the airport to Government House.”
    â€œCertainly not in the old Rover,” said Hazel. “It’s broken down three times in the last month, and it smells like a kennel.”
    â€œHenry Bendall has a Rolls-Royce,” said Ted. “We’ll just have to commandeer that.”
    â€œAs long as no one tells Mountbatten that it’s owned by the local undertaker, and what it was used for the morning before he arrived.”
    â€œMick Flaherty also has an old Rolls,” piped up Charles. “A Silver Shadow, if I remember correctly.”
    â€œBut he loathes the British,” said Hazel.
    â€œAgreed,” said Ted, “but he’ll still want to have dinner at Government House when he discovers the guest of honor is a member of the royal family.”
    â€œDinner?” said Hazel, her voice rising in horror.
    â€œOf course we will have to give a dinner in his honor,” said Ted. “And, worse, everyone who is anyone will expect to be invited. How many can the dining room hold?” He and Hazel turned to the private secretary.
    â€œSixty, if pushed,” replied Charles, looking up from his notes.

    â€œWe’re pushed,” said Ted.
    â€œWe certainly are,” said Hazel. “Because we don’t have sixty plates, let alone sixty coffee cups, sixty teaspoons, sixty …”
    â€œWe still have that Royal Worcester service presented by the late king after his visit in 1947,” said Ted. “How many pieces of that are fit for use?”
    â€œEnough for about fourteen settings, at the last count,” said Hazel.
    â€œRight, then that’s dealt with how many people will be at the top table.”
    â€œWhat about the menu?” asked Charles.
    â€œAnd, more important, who is going to cook it?” added Ted.
    â€œWe’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.”
    â€œAnd we’ll also need her butler, not to mention the rest of her staff,” added Ted.
    By now Charles was on his third page.
    â€œYou’d better deal with Lady Cuthbert, my dear,” said Ted. “I’ll try to square Mick Flaherty.”
    â€œOur next problem will be the drinks,” said Hazel. “Don’t forget, the last governor emptied the cellar a few days before he left.”
    â€œAnd the Foreign Office refuses to restock it,” Ted reminded her. “Jonathan Fletcher has the best cellar on the island …”
    â€œAnd, God bless him, he won’t expect to be at the top table,” said Hazel.
    â€œIf we’re limited to fourteen places, the top table’s looking awfully crowded already,” said Ted.
    â€œDotty Cuthbert, the Bendalls, the Flahertys, the Hodgeses,” 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.
    â€œWhere’s he going to sleep?” asked Charles innocently.

    â€œGod, I hadn’t thought of him sleeping,” said Ted.
    â€œHe’ll have to take our bedroom. It’s the only one with a bed that doesn’t sink in the middle,” said Hazel.
    â€œWe’ll move into the Nelson Room for the night, and suffer those dreadful woodwormed beds and their ancient horsehair mattresses.”
    â€œAgreed,” said Hazel. “I’ll make sure all our things are out of the Queen Victoria Room by this evening.”
    â€œAnd 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

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