Four Warned

Albert waited patiently, although he quite expected to be told that the number was either unlisted or ex-directory. A moment later the operator was back on the line and read out the number.

‘Can you please repeat that?’ asked a surprised Albert as he took the top off his biro. ‘Zero two zero, seven seven six six, seven three zero zero. ‘Thank you,’ he said, before putting the phone down. Several minutes passed before he gathered enough courage to pick it back up again.

Albert dialled the number with a shaky hand. He listened to the familiar ringing tone and was just about to put the phone back down when a woman’s voice said, ‘Buckingham Palace, how may I help you?’

‘I’d like to speak to someone about a one hundredth birthday,’ said Albert, repeating the exact words he had memorised.

‘Who shall I say is calling?’

‘Mr Albert Webber.’

‘Hold the line please, Mr Webber.’

This was Albert’s last chance of escape, but before he could put the phone down, another voice came on the line.

‘Humphrey Cranshaw speaking.’

The last time Albert had heard a voice like that was when he was serving in the army. ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said nervously. ‘I was hoping you might be able to help me.’

‘I certainly will if I can, Mr Webber,’ replied the courtier.

‘Three years ago I celebrated my hundredth birthday,’ said Albert, returning to his well-rehearsed script.

‘Many congratulations,’ said Cranshaw.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Albert, ‘but that isn’t the reason why I’m calling. You see, on that occasion Her Majesty the Queen was kind enough to send me a telegram, which is now framed on the wall in front of me, and which I will treasure for the rest of my life.’

‘How kind of you to say so, Mr Webber.’

‘But I wondered,’ said Albert, gaining in confidence, ‘if Her Majesty still sends telegrams when people reach their hundredth birthday?’

‘She most certainly does,’ replied Cranshaw. ‘I know that it gives Her Majesty great pleasure to continue the tradition, even though so many more people now reach that magnificent milestone.’

‘Oh, that is most gratifying to hear, Mr Cranshaw,’ said Albert, ‘because my dear wife celebrated her hundredth birthday some two weeks ago, but sadly has not yet received a telegram from the Queen.’

‘I am sorry to hear that, Mr Webber,’ said the courtier. ‘It must be an administrative oversight on our part. Please allow me to check. What is your wife’s full name?’

‘Elizabeth Violet Webber, née Braithwaite,’ said Albert with pride.

‘Just give me a moment, Mr Webber,’ said Cranshaw, ‘while I check our records.’

This time Albert had to wait a little longer before Mr Cranshaw came back on the line. ‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr Webber, but you’ll be pleased to learn that we have traced your wife’s telegram.’

‘Oh, I’m so glad,’ said Albert. ‘May I ask when she can expect to receive it?’

There was a moment’s hesitation before the courtier said, ‘Her Majesty sent a telegram to your wife to congratulate her on reaching her hundredth birthday some five years ago.’

Albert heard a car door slam, and moments later a key turned in the lock. He quickly put the phone down, and smiled.

Stuc

k on You

(from And Thereby Hangs a Tale)

Jeremy looked across the table at Arabella and still could not believe she had agreed to be his wife. He was the luckiest man in the world.

She was giving him the shy smile that had so bewitched him the first time they met, when a waiter appeared by his side. ‘I’ll have an espresso,’ said Jeremy, ‘and my fiancée’ – it still sounded strange to him – ‘will have a mint tea.’