The Queen and I (26 page)

Sydney police department have issued the following description of the man: “Six-foot six tall, large build, tanned complexion, broken nose, diagonal scar running from left ear to mouth, wearing a green beret, camouflage jacket, green trousers and heavy boots”.

The Queen looked at the top of the fax, but there was no date. How long had Edward been missing? She had thought that at least he, the most sensitive of her children, had been spared unhappiness, but now, thanks to Lobelia bloody Tremaine, she had a new worry. She bent down and retrieved Lobelia’s letter from Harris’s jaws and completed her reading. At the bottom, after further drivel about B.O.M.B., she read the P.S.

P.S. I have it on good authority that Prince Andrew is serving in a submarine somewhere under the Polar Ice Cap.

“So
that’s
why Andrew hasn’t been in touch,” she said to Harris. “Lucky Andrew.”

48 Out to Lunch

Anne and Spiggy had called round at midday to see the Queen and had been shocked to find her still in her dressing gown and slippers. Wordlessly she had given Anne the press cutting. Anne read it aloud, remembering courteously that Spiggy could not read. The Queen pushed her untidy hair out of her eyes and sighed deeply.

Anne said, “I know it’s yet another blow, Mum, but you can’t let yourself go.” She led her mother to the stairs and ordered her to bath and dress.

“Spiggy’s offered to buy us lunch,” shouted Anne later as the Queen dragged herself wearily out of the bathroom. The Queen thought, lunch? Where? A hot dog stand? A dual carriageway picnic? A wall outside a chip shop?

She was pleasantly surprised when Spiggy had signed them in to the Flowers Estate Working Men’s Club (by making his mark). The lounge area was comfortably furnished and the Queen, who was ravenous, was pleased to see that a corner of the bar was piled high with meat, cheese and salad rolls, scotch eggs and slices of pork pie. There was even a murmuring television set in the corner which gave the room a nice homely touch. Through a gap in the door which led to the concert room the Queen could see pensioners like herself practising old-time dance steps to the recorded music of the Joe Loss band.

Violet and Wilf Toby were twirling together on the dance floor. Violet was wearing spangled backless high heels, a matching scarlet frock and a happy expression.

The Queen sank back onto the leatherette banquette seat next to Anne. She willed herself to relax.

Spiggy strolled up to the bar, taking out a roll of money as he went, and ordered their drinks and food.

As Norman, the lugubrious barman, assembled their order with his grubby hands, the Queen remembered Crawfie saying, “You must eat everything put in front of you. It’s awful bad manners not to!”

When the food and drink was in front of them Anne lifted her pint of bitter and said, “Let’s not talk about our family, eh?” to the Queen. A silence fell until Spiggy, after gulping down half a scotch egg, mentioned Gilbert. Then all three of them began an animated conversation about horses they had known and loved, which was only interrupted when Jack Barker’s sombre face appeared on the television screen.

“Summat’s up,” said Spiggy, after glancing at his watch. “They usually ’ave kids’ programmes on at this time.”

He shouted, “Eh up, Norman, turn the sound up on the telly.” By the time that Norman had fumbled for the correct knob and adjusted the volume Jack Barker was saying, “So, in view of the world financial crisis, which threatens this country’s stability and indeed the very continuation of our way of life, your Government has decided that it will be necessary to make far-reaching constitutional changes.”

The Queen drained her glass of white wine and said sceptically, “We have no written constitution. Barker is obviously going to write his own.” She leaned forward, eager to hear more of the proposals. But she was to be disappointed.

Jack Barker went on, “Since I took office as Prime Minister it has been my privilege to introduce a radical programme of reform, despite opposition from many quarters. Whatever office I may hold in the future I will always endeavour to serve my people and my country.”

“Does that mean he’s about to resign?” said the Queen.

“I ’ope not,” said Spiggy. “It was only yesterday ’e abolished the cowin’ poll tax!”

“Shush, Spiggs,” said Anne.

Jack finished abruptly, “Tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock I will make a full statement to the nation. Good day!”

A presenter in a dark suit said in a sonorous voice, “All programmes scheduled for tomorrow have been cancelled to make way for a special outside broadcast. These changes will affect all channels.”

“Christ!” said Norman, who, when he wasn’t working, was a television addict. “Must be the end of the cowin’
world
.”

49 Tea for Three

Jack hurried out of the Westminster television studio and was ushered into his car for the short return journey to Downing Street. Though the tyres of the car were rubber and the road beneath them was coated in tarmac, he fancied he could feel the iron rims of the tumbril beneath him as it went bumping over the cobbles.

In the bedroom of her
pied-à-terre
– a suite at the Savoy – Sayako stood in front of a looking glass. She was drinking in her reflection. It was perfect, perfect, as befitted someone who would soon be a world icon. Her servants had helped her off with the latest and most exquisite of many creations that had been specially designed for her and hung it, draped in tissue, inside a closet. Then Sayako, dressed elegantly but less gorgeously in one of her new Sloane Street suits, gathered up her bag and a copy of
Debrett’s Peerage
and went downstairs to where a car was waiting to take her to tea.

When Jack’s car drew up outside Number Ten he did not immediately get out, even though the driver had opened the door for him to emerge.

“Owt wrong, Jack?” asked the driver as Jack continued to sit. The word “owt” resonated in Jack’s head, again evoking the memories of his childhood and the principles he had formed then. His body stiffened. He looked like a dummy about to be used in a controlled collision for road safety purposes.

“Cramp,” lied Jack. “Give me a minute.”

Inside Number Ten tea was being prepared on a low table by a pale-faced woman wearing silk. Jack’s honoured guests waited in an ante room. When Jack eventually joined them he strode across the carpet shoeless and with his hand outstretched, only at the very last minute did he remember to drop his hand and bow instead.

50 Bird on the Wing

As the Queen was paying for her groceries at the Food-U-R checkout that afternoon Victor Berryman dropped something into her shopping bag. He whispered, “Don’t look now.”

When the Queen arrived home and unpacked her shopping she saw that the mystery object was a letter addressed to her in Charles’s handwriting.

The Wilderness,

Far North

Mummy Darling,

A hurried note (I am constantly on the move) to tell you that I am “over the sea to Skye” – not absolutely
literally
over the sea to
Skye
. But I am certainly in the
vicinity
.

I sleep during the day and move and forage for food at night. I try to be as one with the heather and, I think, succeed. It helps that my shell suit (blessed garment,
so
comfortable) is purple and green.

Before winter sets in I hope to find an abandoned croft and make it my home. My requirements are few: a peat fire, a bed of heather, simple food and perhaps a glimpse of the
Daily Telegraph
now and then.

One thing, Mummy, before I finish this letter. Please remember me to Beverley Threadgold, tell her that there was no time to say goodbye. And, of course, my regards to Diana and the boys.

A new life calls me. I need to feel the wind on my face and to hear the shriek of small animals as they are captured by winged predators.

Dearest Mummy, I send you my love,

C.

The Queen drummed her fingers on the kitchen table and said out loud, “If I were a smoker I would certainly need a cigarette now.” She hated to think of Charles alone and on the run. How would the silly boy manage during the bleak Scottish winter when the very air froze? She opened a tube of Smarties, emptied it onto the kitchen table and picked out all the red ones.

51 Teeth

She had set her alarm clock for 7.15. Harris had not come home the night before. “The wretch,” said the Queen. “He knows I worry.” She set out to search Hell Close.

An hour later, the Queen switched the television on in the living room. The screen was filled with the front view of Buckingham Palace. The flagpole was bare. Martial music was playing – the Queen thought it sounded like the band of the Royal Marines. She dragged the vacuum cleaner free from its entanglement with the ironing board in the understairs cupboard. Though the picture hadn’t changed since she switched it on, she still kept one eye on the screen as she vacuumed the carpet, cursing occasionally as the cleaner sucked up the loose strands at the edges that Spiggy had failed to attend to.

The Queen was anxious that the house should look its best. She had invited the family and some of the neighbours round to watch the outside broadcast with her. As she dusted and polished she noticed that her hands were trembling slightly and she realised that she had a terrible sense of foreboding about the nature of Jack Barker’s announcement.

At 10.55 the small living room was crammed full of people. The Queen had to step over and around them as she served them coffee and biscuits. The television now showed the front door of Number Ten Downing Street and the crowds beyond, temporarily contained by a line of policemen with linked arms.

At exactly 11 o’clock the glossy black door of Number Ten opened and Jack Barker came out alone. He looked pale and tired, thought the Queen, as though he had been up all night. He walked over to the bank of microphones and held up his hand to quieten the cheering crowd. He looked down at his feet then lifted his head and said, “My fellow Britons, last night I signed a document that will change all of our lives for the better. The other signatory was his Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Akihito of Japan.” Jack reached inside his jacket pocket and took out a piece of paper which he held in the air for the benefit of the television cameras and the hordes of newspaper photographers.

The Queen said, “Get
on
with it, man!”

Jack eventually replaced the paper inside his jacket pocket and resumed speaking. “As from today, England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have entered into a Treaty of Friendship with Japan, which will cement the special relationship and the ever-increasing ties, which already exist between our two great countries and bring us new security and prosperity.”

The Queen said, “Cut the platitudes, Barker. Get down to it.”

Jack forced himself to look into the lens of the camera in front of him, as if, by maintaining eye contact with the millions watching, he could convince them of his sincerity. “I am proud and happy to be able to tell you that this treaty will put Britain back on the road to greatness. Once more we shall be part of a worldwide empire on which the sun never sets.”

Most of the crowd cheered.

The Queen muttered, “What’s he up to?”

Jack went on, “Since April the tenth I have served you as your Prime Minister. From today I shall continue to reside here at Number Ten Downing Street and to serve you in my new role as Governor General of Great Britain.”

The Queen shouted, “
Governor General
!” but the others in the room told her to be quiet.

Jack went on. “We now share the sovereignty of this country with the Empire of Japan.”

The Queen could not restrain herself, “He’s sold us,” she shouted, “as though we were a commodity!”

Jack continued, “As a result of these constitutional changes, the temporary loan of 12,000 billion yen which my government negotiated on April the thirteenth, and which was due to be repaid by June the first, has been extended indefinitely. Our new federal relationship with the growing Japanese empire – which will be carefully balanced by a strong element of subsidiarity – will ensure that, at long last, we have the resources we need to rebuild our great country, as we want and deserve. It only remains for this political and financial alliance to be cemented further by a personal alliance. I am delighted to announce that this is happening, at this very moment!” The black door opened and Jack scuttled inside.

“What was all
that
about?” said Spiggy, baffled by all the long words.

“Jack Barker has mortgaged this country to the Bank of Japan,” cried the Queen.

“Christ!” said Violet. “Will we all have to talk Japanese?”

“Well I shan’t,” said Wilf. “I’m too old to learn a new cowin’ language and anyroad I can ’ardly talk English.”

Beverley Threadgold said, “I knew a bloke who went to a Japanese restaurant once. He said it was ’orrible. All ’e got to eat was raw fish.”

Violet said indignantly, “Well, they needn’t think they can come over ’ere thinkin’ they can stop us cookin’ our fish, ’cos I for one won’t stand for it.”

Philomena Toussaint said, “Who we pay our rent to? Is it still the Council or the Bank of Japan?”

Margaret drawled, “If we had a proper written constitution, this couldn’t happen.”

The Queen had to leave the room. She thought her head would explode. Was she the only one to realise the full significance of Barker’s announcement? A coup had already taken place. Britain had been annexed and was now just another Japanese offshore island. She went into the back garden. There was still no sign of Harris. Yesterday’s food was still in its bowl. The Queen threw it into the pedal bin under the sink.