“Yes we do. There’s the one that leads from the dining room to the drawing room. We’ll have to use that, and hope we can get it back in place before he visits that part of the house. Charles, you will have to roll it up and take it to the airport”—she paused—“and then bring it back.”
Charles scowled, but began writing furiously.
“And Charles, can you also see that it’s cleaned by tomorrow?” interjected the governor. “I hadn’t even realized it was red. Now, what about a guard of honor?”
“We haven’t got a guard of honor,” said Hazel. “If you remember, when we arrived on the island we were met by the prime minister, the chief justice and six off-duty policemen.”
“True,” said Ted. “Then we’ll just have to rely on the territorial army.”
“You mean Colonel Hodges and his band of hopeful warriors? They don’t even all have matching uniforms. And as for their rifles …”
“Hodges will just have to get them into some sort of shape by four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Leave that one to me,” said Ted, making a note on his pad. “I’ll phone him later this morning. Now, what about a band?”
“Well there’s the town band,” said Charles. “And, of course, the police band.”
“On this occasion they’ll have to combine,” said Hazel, “so we don’t offend either of them.”
“But they only know three tunes between them,” said Ted.
“They only need to know one,” said Hazel. “The national anthem.”
“Right,” said the governor. “As there 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.”
“Certainly not in the old Rover,” said Hazel. “It’s broken down three times in the last month, and it smells like a kennel.”
“Henry Bendall has a Rolls-Royce,” said Ted. “We’ll just have to commandeer that.”
“As 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.”
“Mick Flaherty also has an old Rolls,” piped up Charles. “A Silver Shadow, if I remember correctly.”
“But he loathes the British,” said Hazel.
“Agreed,” 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.”
“Dinner?” said Hazel, her voice rising in horror.
“Of 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.
“Sixty if pushed,” replied Charles, looking up from his notes.
“We’re pushed,” said Ted.
“We certainly are,” said Hazel. “Because we don’t have sixty plates, let alone sixty coffee cups, sixty teaspoons, sixty …”
“We 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?”
“Enough for about fourteen settings, at the last count,” said Hazel.
“Right, then that’s dealt with how many people will be at the head table.”
“What about the menu?” asked Charles.
“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 butl