A Twist in the Tale

Gerald read the news item in the Court Circular of The Times to his wife over breakfast: “It has been announced from Buckingham Palace that King Alfons IV of Multavia will make a state visit to Britain between April 7 and 11.”

“I wonder if we will have an opportunity to meet the King again,” said Angela.

Gerald offered no opinion.

In fact Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Haskins received two invitations connected with King Alfons’ official visit, one to dine with the King at Claridge’s—Multavia’s London Embassy not being large enough to cater for such an occasion—and the second arriving a day later by special delivery from Buckingham Palace.

Gerald was delighted. The Peacock, it seemed, was going to get three outings in one month, as their visit to the Palace was ten days before Walter Ramsbottom would be installed as Mayor.

The state dinner at Claridge’s was memorable and although there were several hundred other guests present Gerald still managed to catch a moment with his host, King Alfons IV who, he found to his pleasure, could not take his eyes off the Order of the Peacock (Third Class).

The trip to Buckingham Palace a week later was Gerald and Angela’s second, following Gerald’s investiture in 1984 as a Commander of the British Empire. It took Gerald almost as long to dress for the state occasion as it did his wife. He took some time fiddling with his collar to be sure that his CBE could be seen to its full advantage while the Order of the Peacock still rested squarely on his shoulders. Gerald had asked his tailor to sew little loops into his tailcoat so that the Order did not have to be continually readjusted.

When the Haskinses arrived at Buckingham Palace they followed a throng of bemedaled men and tiaraed ladies through to the state dining room where a footman handed out seating cards to each of the guests. Gerald unfolded his to find an arrow pointing to his name. He took his wife by the arm and guided her to their places.

He noticed that Angela’s head kept turning whenever she saw another tiara.

Although they were seated some distance away from Her Majesty at an offshoot of the main table, there was still a minor royal on Gerald’s left and the Minister of Agriculture on his right. He was more than satisfied. In fact the whole evening went far too quickly, and Gerald was already beginning to feel that Mayor-making day would be something of an anticlimax. Nevertheless, Gerald imagined a scene where Councillor Ramsbottom was admiring the Order of the Peacock (Third Class), while he was telling him about the dinner at the Palace.

After two loyal toasts and two national anthems the Queen rose to her feet. She spoke warmly of Multavia as she addressed her three hundred guests, and affectionately of her distant cousin the King. Her Majesty added that she hoped to visit his kingdom at some time in the near future. This was greeted with considerable applause. She then concluded her speech by saying it was her intention to make two investitures.

The Queen created King Alfons IV a Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order (KCVO), and then Multavia’s Ambassador to the Court of St. James a Commander of the same order (CVO), both being personal orders of the monarch. A box of royal blue was opened by a court official and the awards placed over the recipients’ shoulders. As soon as the Queen had completed her formal duties, King Alfons rose to make his reply.

“Your Majesty,” he continued after the usual formalities and thanks had been completed. “I also would like to make two awards. The first is to an Englishman who has given great service to my country through his expertise and diligence—” the King then glanced in Gerald’s direction. “A man,” he continued, “who completed a feat of sanitary engineering that any nation on earth could be proud of and indeed, Your Majesty, it was opened by your own Foreign Secretary. We in the capital of Teske will remain in his debt for generations to come. We therefore bestow on Mr. Gerald Haskins, CBE, the Order of the Peacock (Second Class).”

Gerald couldn’t believe his ears.

Tumultuous applause greeted a surprised Gerald as he made his way up toward their Majesties. He came to a standstill behind the throned chairs somewhere between the Queen of England and the King of Multavia. The King smiled at the new recipient of the Order of the Peacock (Second Class) as the two men shook hands. But before bestowing the new honor upon him, King Alfons leaned forward and with some difficulty removed from Gerald’s shoulders his Order of the Peacock (Third Class).

“You won’t be needing this any longer,” the King whispered in Gerald’s ear.

Gerald watched in horror as his prize possession disappeared into a red leather box held open by the King’s private secretary, who stood poised behind his sovereign. Gerald continued to stare at the private secretary, who was either a diplomat of the highest order or had not been privy to the King’s plan, for his face showed no sign of anything untoward. Once Gerald’s magnificent prize had been safely removed, the box snapped closed like a safe of which Gerald had not been given the combination.

Gerald wanted to protest, but t

he Queen smiled benignly up at him.

King Alfons then removed from another box the Order of the Peacock (Second Class) and placed it over Gerald’s shoulders. Gerald, staring at the indifferent colored glass stones, hesitated for a few moments before stumbling a pace back, bowing and then returning to his place in the great dining room. He did not hear the waves of applause that accompanied him; his only thought was how he could possibly retrieve his lost chain immediately the speeches were over. He dumped down in the chair next to his wife.

“And now,” continued the King, “I wish to present a decoration that has not been bestowed on anyone since my late father’s death. The Order of the Peacock (First Class), which it gives me special delight to bestow on Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.”

The Queen rose from her place as the King’s private secretary once again stepped forward. In his hands was held the same red leather case that had snapped shut so firmly on Gerald’s unique possession. The case was reopened and the King removed the magnificent Order from the box and placed it on the shoulders of the Queen. The jewels sparkled in the candlelight and the guests gasped at the sheer magnificence of the piece.

Gerald was the only person in the room who knew its true value.

“Well, you always said it was fit for a monarch,” his wife remarked as she touched her string of pearls.

“Aye,” said Gerald. “But what’s Ramsbottom going to say when he sees this?” he added sadly, fingering the Order of the Peacock (Second Class). “He’ll know it’s not the real thing.”

“I don’t see it matters that much,” said Angela.

“What do you mean, lass?” asked Gerald. “I’ll be the laughingstock of Hull on Mayor-making day.”

“You should spend more time reading the evening papers, Gerald, and spend less time looking in mirrors and then you’d know Walter isn’t going to be Mayor this year.”

“Not going to be Mayor?” repeated Gerald.

“No. The present Mayor has opted to do a second term so Walter won’t be Mayor until next year.”