by Earl Nelson
I refused to react, letting the remarks roll by me.
Their words meant little to me. Now if they had started shooting like the Russians or East Germans it would have been different.
Copies of the draft script were handed out. We each read our part in turn. I kept my British accent all the way. It was almost more natural than my American by this point in time.
One of the things we were looking for were sentences that didn’t roll off our tongues. It would be easier to modify them than to try to learn them.
There was one spot that just didn’t read right for any of us. At one point the actress, a young lady named Ann Briton, told me she loved me.
My response didn’t ring true. As a group we all made suggestions. None of them worked. Finally on one read through she said, “I love you.”
In a smart-aleck way, I responded, “I know.”
It wasn’t meant to be serious but it stopped the whole crowd.
The Director said, “That’s it.”
For once everyone agreed. That was my only contribution to the script.
As the session was ending the Director asked if we could meet tomorrow. Everyone could, but a page knocked on the door and handed a letter to the Director.
He looked at it and handed it to me. It was from the Palace. I read a note from Mr. Norman who told me the Queen requested my presence at the Palace to assist her tomorrow morning.
I apologized to the Director as the Queen had summoned me. She had a dog that needed to be robbed.
The only one who laughed at that was a senior stage manager who must have been in the service.
Arriving on time at the Palace in full uniform I was escorted to Mr. Norman’s office. After the pleasantries, I asked what I had been summoned for.
“Not much, old boy. We recommended that you be called in on at least a monthly basis so a record could be created of your duties being more than ceremonial.”
The Crown gets criticized for having people on staff for no good reason, so we have to show that you are working. At this point, we are reluctant to send you to Europe because of East German’s”
“They don’t want to give up on getting you into their custody. You wounded their pride. Even their Russian masters haven’t been able to restrain them.”
“One good thing that has come out of it is the orders for the warrant to search your properties originated with a group of Don’s that we have been watching at Cambridge. We will be watching them even closer now and if they are Soviet moles we will use them for false information.”
“As to what you have been summoned for, Her Majesty is aware that you will be attending a Presidential Inaugural Ball. She is sending a formal note to President Kennedy, but will have you deliver a personal note for her.”
“That sounds easy enough.”
“Sometimes it is.”
“So what else do I do today?”
“Take the day off?”
“What a wonderful idea.”
I left the Palace and went to the hotel where I changed into casual clothes, and walked the rainy streets of London looking into shop windows. It was a wonderful day.
I flew back home late in the afternoon and listened to the latest rock and roll records. It was relaxing.
Chapter 6
This Friday was Kennedy’s Inauguration Ball. I had to make certain that all my ducks were in a row. Nina was flying to London on Wednesday. I would meet her there at my hotel suite and we would fly to DC on Thursday.
I double-checked with Mum the address of their house in Georgetown. The Ball was white tie so Mr. Hamilton packed me an outfit. This was one of the few times I had luggage with me.
I went ahead and chartered a plane for the trip. I was getting used to the thought of having money that I could spend. It would only be about ten thousand dollars. Yeah, only ten thousand dollars, watch it, Ricky, you will get a big head.
It was another 707, I wish they would make smaller jets for groups of ten or so people.
Anyway, Nina came in on Wednesday and we had a nice evening in London, going to a play.
It was called “Beyond the Fringe” at the Fortune Theater. I liked the lead guy, Dudley Moore. I thought he would do well.
In the morning we went out to Heathrow’s general aviation area to catch our flight. I had had the hotel take our luggage to the plane the evening before. I did think to ask if it made it okay. It had.
Nina had never been on a charter of a large jet before so she was amazed at how empty it looked. The charter company had a deluxe package of meals and refreshments aboard.
For the price, they should have. That said, it was a smooth flight to Washington, DC. We both had school work to do while we flew. The booth with a table in the first-class cabin helped.
We took a break and had a wonderful meal. The hostess offered us wine or beer with our meal, but we both declined. I drank beer in England occasionally. I didn’t want to make it a habit.
I think Nina may have been following my lead.
We touched down on time in DC. The plane would be there to take us back on Sunday morning. It would fly to Switzerland, drop Nina off, and then take me to London.
They had another trip the next day so the plane wouldn’t sit idle.
A limo had been arranged by Mum to take us to Georgetown. I was glad. Washington traffic was bad on a Thursday night. I guessed that it would be any night. It would help when the interstate around the city was complete, as there would be no traffic congestion then.
Mum and Dad were there. The kids were still in California with Mrs. Hernandez. Mum had promised her a trip to Spain if she would put up with them for the weekend.
She would have done it anyway, but Mum and Dad were always trying to find ways to give her something nice. She was a loyal member of our family.
I asked Mum if Mrs. Hernandez was seeing anyone. It appears Mrs. Hernandez was the hit of the Latin community. It helped that she had Jackson Charities, Mum, on her side. She was being escorted to an event every week.
I got the impression these events could take several days. Go for it, Mrs. Hernadez.
The first order of business was to get Nina and I settled into our bedrooms, no sharing in this house! Mum believed in appearances.
From what I had picked up from Grand Mum, it was “Do as I say, not as I do.”
At least when she was younger.
Now that she was a Mum herself things were going to be different.
We didn’t burst her bubble.
Mum went to help Nina settle in, leaving me with Dad. I think there was a scheme at work here.
“Rick, how serious are you and Nina?”
“We aren’t planning to get married anytime soon if that is what you are asking.”
“I guess I was. You used the word soon, does that mean you have plans?”
“The only discussion on marriage we have had is that we are too young to even think about it and that we will not have children before we are married, if we get married, that is. Answer enough?”
“Don’t get snotty with me young man. I’m still your father and can knock your block off.”
Dad and I eyed each other. After looking up at me, he backed down first.
“I think I could knock it off anyway.”
“Dad I don’t think we will ever find out.”
That was very gracious of me as I knew he could knock my block off. As a Captain in the MP’s, he had to fight some tough characters. The fact of the matter was that I would stand there and let him hit me before I would fight him.
“Rick, your Mum and I have watched you grow up fast in the last few years and we want the best for you. Nina may be the woman for you, but as you said you are both too young to know. We do worry you know.”
We had a few more words of no import and I went to change for dinner. It was a suit and tie event with a combination of business people and politicians. Twenty of us sat down to dinner in my
parents ‘small’ Georgetown house.
There were seating assignments so Nina and I were separated. I was in between a portly Senator who droned on about some bill and a recent twenty-some-year-old divorcee. She was on the hunt.
I found the Senator’s bill on imports to be fascinating.
After dinner, Nina and I hid out on the open back porch. She told me about her grilling from Mum. I shared my experience with Dad. We both had been consistent in our story so that should take care of that for a while.
It did allow me to ask, “Would you marry me?”
She jumped up and hugged me and said, “Oh yes Rick I will marry you!”
I almost fell off the back steps I was so flustered.
“I didn’t mean it that way. No, I meant at some future date. No, I don’t know what I meant.”
“Silly, I knew exactly what you were asking, and yes, you are on my shortlist.”
“How short is your list?”
“You are the only one right now, but who knows what the future may bring?”
This was my night for talking myself into problems. I think it was that word ‘marry’ that was throwing me off my stride.
“Rick, I like you a lot, and maybe even love you, but it is too soon and you know it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good, now kiss me good night.”
Some instructions I can follow very well.
The next day was a rush. The ball was that evening, so the Ladies had to have their hair done and all those other mystical things that women do.
Dad and I watched our new President being sworn in. He and President Eisenhower seemed to get along.
Dad told me that Ike had thought JFK was too young for the job, a whippersnapper who had got elected on his Daddy’s money. Then said after he talked to him Ike thought JFK was brilliant.
The conversation didn’t give me a chance to ask Dad how he knew this. I had thought he and Ike didn’t get along.
The ball that Nina and I attended was almost anticlimactic. It was a crowded hot room full of smoke. The President and Jackie made an appearance. They walked around the room greeting people.
They did stop at our table and the photographer accompanying them took pictures of us together. At least Nina would have her evidence for her school friends that she met Jackie.
For her part, Jackie was very nice. She acted impressed when she asked when Nina was flying home. I guess saying our chartered jet was leaving in the morning said something.
I had a chance to pass the Queen's note to the new President. He did a double-take when he saw the Royal crest.
“I had forgotten about your connections, Sir Richard or should I say Colonel?”
He may forget some things but not many.
“Rick will do, Mr. President.”
He smiled at that, “It is nice to hear that. One could get used to it.”
When the President and First Lady left, so did Nina and me. Our limo driver was with a bunch of others in a special parking area. When we went to retrieve our coats our car was called.
I noticed she had a pillbox hat like the first lady. What a spy ring the women had. I was glad I only had to fight the KGB or the Stasi.
The next morning we had breakfast with Mum and Dad, who from their good cheer had had a successful trip. From there we went back to the airport and flew back to Switzerland for Nina and then I got dropped off in London, from whence I then flew myself back to Oxford.
What a weekend. I loved the word whence and tried to work it in when I could.
Chapter 7
Monday started as another boring school week. I had taken to eating lunch at Rawdon-Hastings Hall or RH as it was becoming known.
The food was good. The only thing that I had to dodge was dinner invitations. I found out that a dinner invitation was a polite way of saying, “There is this girl we would like you to meet.”
These invitations were given at the direction of the various wives. It appeared there was nothing more frustrating to a young married lady than that an eligible bachelor is out there and he might get away from her perfect friend.
I started carrying a picture of Nina in her mini-skirt around and showing it to all the guys when any hints of dinner were brought up. I finally realized these poor guys had no choice in the matter, if they didn’t issue an invitation they would have a miserable weekend.
They were off the hook if it was issued in front of witnesses and I declined. This quickly became an unspoken game between us guys. They had a duty to perform and they did it.
Other than that the lunches were fun. I got to meet a lot of guys around my age. If they were American we talked about sports. Everyone else I quizzed about their country and military establishments.
One hot topic of conversation was that the Dutch army was considering unionizing. We couldn’t visualize how this might or could work. Trying to imagine a wildcat strike in the middle of a firefight was mind-boggling.
We made many a joke about that. No Dutch soldiers were attending Oxford to our knowledge. We decided that while it was fun to joke about it, it would never happen and if it did it would be a disaster.
I ran into my drinking buddies, Tom, Steve, and Bill at the Dog and Crown after lunch on Friday afternoon. I had decided to skip the afternoon lecture. The Prof was an absolute slave to his notes. I could read in twenty minutes what it took him an hour and a half to lecture on.
We all bemoaned the fact that the English weather was so damp and cloudy. We would have loved to see some sunshine.
I think we all had the thought at the same time. Nice is nice! Let's go to the Riveria for the weekend!
We all headed back to our respective digs and packed for a casual weekend. Being the cautious sort, I also rolled up a sport coat and tie in case something a little more formal came up.
I called The Meadows and left word where I was going and that I would be back late Sunday or maybe Monday if the weather was nice in Nice.
We met at my garage, where Bill Benton picked us up in his four-door sedan. On arriving at the airport, I had to check over the aircraft, and file a flight plan.
While I was doing this the guys were in the Flight Center flirting with the Hostess. I knew she was married but let them have their fun. She seemed to be enjoying it.
We were in the air when I told them she had three kids at home. That didn’t seem to faze them at all.
We had a good flight, exchanging jokes all the way. We refueled and had a pit stop in Paris but made it as quick as we could. It was still daylight when we landed in Nice but not by much. After landing, I called home, Mr. Hamilton who told me that his mission was successful. He had reserved a suite for us at the Hotel Negresco.
When we checked in we were welcomed by Jeanne Augier, the owner. She had bought the place in 1957 and was turning it into a work of art, a museum in its own right.
Someone yelled, “Hey, Tom and Rick!” as we were getting onto the elevator. It was Paul from the Beatles, I had met the band in Liverpool with Tom. I had briefly owned some of the rights to the band but had given them up. That was beginning to look like a mistake.
That was water over the dam. The band was here to play a special request for Princess Grace. They would have stayed at the Casino hotel in Monaco but they were banned, something about two goats and a llama.
Some things you are better off not knowing.
After dumping our stuff we met in the bar. One thing about the Beatles was that if they were there, the girls were there.
We had a good time, I made certain I was never in a compromising position. The last thing I needed was for Nina to see my picture in the paper with some floozy.
The next morning was hard on my crew. They had partied hard. I got smart and only drank a couple of beers. I went to bed around eleven. They went out to the historic old town area of Nice and found a bar ‘L’Oxford.’ Of course, they had to close it up. 5 am!
Since they all
had on their Oxford sweatshirts they drank free most of the night. They had a good time if they could only remember it. All I heard were groans when I got up. No one wanted to run with me!
The band was still up when I left but must have kept saner hours, as they were in the lobby when I got back from my morning run.
We went to breakfast together. John joked about how I had missed making my fortune by selling my share of the band. I replied that I would bear with it. Some of us had to take what life gave us and if being poor was to be my lot, so be it. I tried not to smirk when I said that.
I received a breakfast roll up the side of the head from Ringo for that remark. They had a pretty good idea of my worth. It had now been in almost every newspaper in the world. My days of anonymity were over.
They invited me to go with them to check out their setup at the Palace in Monaco. Having nothing better to do and knowing my friends wouldn’t be up until dinner time, I agreed to the trip.
The band's road crew had set up the equipment yesterday. All they had to do was some sound checks for their later performance.
I sat in the back of the room while this was going on. I called it a room but it was more like a miniature concert hall in the Grimaldi Palace.
As the band was tuning up two children came in, a girl about four and a two-year-old boy following her. It didn’t require much brainpower to figure out the young royals had escaped from their Nanny.
I invited them to sit down and listen to what was going on. Princess Caroline informed me that we hadn’t been introduced do she couldn’t talk to me.
Not talking didn’t include not sitting next to me. Albert, the two-year-old held up his arms, so I picked him up and set him in my lap.
It took the Prince about two minutes to fall asleep.
Princess Caroline thought this was enough of an introduction that she confided in me that she thought Paul was rather good looking. I didn’t see it myself but who was I to argue with Her Grace?
Speaking of Her Grace, the Royal Mum herself appeared hunting for her children. She held out her arms for Albert, who I gladly surrendered. He had slobbered all over my shirt.
