by Earl Nelson
She put a stop to that. I thought she should have let her wear them and try to walk in them. That is what I thought. I knew when to keep my mouth shut.
Other than that things were going fine for the boys. Eddie had just made Life Scout. He would make Eagle by the time he was fourteen. Denny was a very popular photographer in the área and was making money hand over fist.
He was wondering why he should go to school if he could earn a living right now. Dad took care of that. Mum didn’t say what he did but I suspected it was a trip to the woodshed.
Dad’s business was going fine. He had been asked to serve on some government business committee by President Kennedy so my parents contributing to both parties was paying off.
Chapter 17
Tuesday morning was a repeat of Monday except I attended my classes. I did that every day for the rest of the week until Friday afternoon.
I had called Nina the night before but she had too much homework to do to go on a date this weekend. So I thought I would get a full week of school in, except for Monday.
One of the Army contingents who usually escorted me around campus caught up with my current escort. It seems Buckingham Palace was looking for me, I was to call as soon as I could. The young British officer seemed to think it was a big deal.
I had enough dealings with the Palace that I wasn’t to get all excited until I talked to someone.
I repaired to my garage thanking my escorts for their time. I certainly safe from the KGB and company with them around.
When I returned the call I was put directly through to Queen Elizabeth. Ah, a dog needs to be robbed I thought.
We exchanged pleasantries and then I got my request to her before she could tell me what she needed from me.
“Your Majesty…”
“Go ahead and lay it on, Rick, what do you need from me?”
“Okay, you got me. The dig on The Meadows ground is proving very popular to visitors and not just treasure hunters. They have set up an educational program outside the dig but I know that we will be getting VIP requests soon.”
“I would like to encourage that. Do you think it would be a good idea to invite Prince Charles and his school chums on a class outing?”
“I think that is a splendid idea, Rick, it solves a problem I have been discussing with my advisors. Charles school has a requirement that a parent chaperon all school trips. Philip the coward refuses to do it.”
“We have been trying to come up with a trip that would limit my public exposure. This would do it nicely, so yes let's do it. Who should I have contacted?”
I gave her Davids's name and number.
She chortled as she told me, “My advisors think I can only handle matters of state. They think that I’m helpless with the children. This will show them.”
“That’s great Ma’am. Always glad to help, speaking of that you were the one that had me called.”
“I’m pleased you remembered, I’m so excited about this class trip that I would have forgotten about what I need you for.”
“At your service.”
“You better young man or I’ll have you reduced in rank.”
Never, ever forget who has the power here.
“Oh shudder, to be an ensign again.”
“Brat.”
“Seriously what can I do for England, Your Majesty.”
“Now that's better. Rick, I need you to escort me in your full Order of the Garter regalia to the Lord Mayor of London's official confirmation. Philp has other duties that day. You are the only Knight I have that can bend his knees properly. The rest are too old.”
It’s nice to be kneed I thought, yes pun intended, never to pass my lips.
“When is this event?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
“That is short notice, how will I retrieve my regalia?”
“It will be waiting here for you tomorrow. I wish we could have given you more notice but Prince Philip’s event came up unexpectable but he has to attend.”
I noticed she didn’t tell me what the event was, and I wasn’t about to ask.
After keeping awake through my lectures the next day I flew down to London to get ready for the Lord Mayors event.
As promised my Order of the Garter regalía was waiting for me. It all seemed over the top but I donned the garb with assistance from an Equerry.
We rode in the Queen’s Bentley to the border of the City of London where the Lord Mayor awaited.
As the weather was typical English rain and wind for the time of year the ceremony took place with few flourishes. The Lord Mayor had to hold on to his tricorne hat so the wind wouldn’t carry it away.
He presented the Pearl Sword to the Queen to show that she held sway.
We then bundled back into our respective vehicles and proceeded to Guildhall for the ceremony. The current Lord Mayor was retiring, for health reasons I was told, so he was being made a Baronet. This being the normal honor after a successful term of office.
I was introduced to Lady Mayoress who had a stressed look on her face so I gathered this was not a celebration but a sad ending of a life.
While dancing attendance on the Queen I heard the word, cáncer.
As Queen Elizabeth was conferring the honor I noticed three young men moving ever closure to the front. The one in the middle was holding something under a cloth so I had no idea what it was.
I had a bad feeling about this.
The man carrying the cloth-covered object threw the cloth aside and reared his arm back to make a throw. It was towards the Queen and Lord Mayor so I stepped in front of the thrown object.
I caught the banana cream pie full in the face. The young men were quickly restrained and hustled out of the room.
The quick-thinking Lady Mayoress took me by the arm and led me to a small kitchen where she cleaned me up as best as possible with towels.
All the while she was complaining about those horrible liberal students from Cambridge who tried to disrupt every ceremony they could.
When I was clean as possible, there may have been some banana cream pie still on my hat, we returned to the main hall. There was a polite round of applause as we entered the room.
Both the Queen and the Lord Mayor thanked me for my quick action saving them embarrassment. The press was present and wanted an interview. I glanced at the Queen and she nodded.
“Might as well get it over with.”
The questions came fast and furious.
“Sir Richard, did you know it was a pie being tossed.”
“Not until I tasted it.”
“Was it good?”
“Very I would like to get the name of the baker.”
“Why do you think they did it?”
“Who knows why Cambridge students do anything?”
“It seems uncivilized of them, what are your thoughts?”
“In my opinión, the Cambridge students are doing what Cambridge students always do, that is act uncivilized. Why would we expect any different behavior here today?”
“That seems rather harsh.”
“Think of why we are here today, that is the end of questions.”
I turned to leave and there was one last shouted question.
“Will the Queen be awarding you a new honor.”
“I believe so, it is the Order of the Pie, the holders will wear a cream pie on a chain around their neck. Silly question, silly answer.”
On the ride back to the Palace the Queen told me, “I ought to créate the Order of the Pie just for spite. I find those types of actions despicable.”
“I agree but we can’t give them credence, mockery is better.”
“It is, though it could all be solved by a few judicious beheadings.”
I think that is the only time I ever heard the Queen kid on the square.
The next day back at Oxford I was cheered in the streets. I had given a blow in the eternal war between the two school
s.
My escorts were on the lookout for squads of Cambridge pie throwers.
Even in class the Don’s gave me special recognition. I was the man of the hour. Every class I went to had banana cream pies to share. I got very tired of them after the first three slices.
Not that tired, I had my slices boxed up and carried them to my garage for later. When I got back to the Meadows you would never guess what was waiting for me.
A banana cream pie from the Cambridge Baker. It seems his business was booming. It gave me visions of the hoard approaching the castle, except no torches or pitchforks, just pies. I expect I would dream about them tonight.
I had to give a blow by blow description of the event to Grand Mum and Mr. Hamilton. They were sitting together having tea while I told of my grand adventure. They had read about it in the Daily Mail. The newspaper was very unkind to the students. It appeared the Lord Mayors' illness was well known and there was no good reason for such disrespect.
The last line in the story said a lot. “They are Cambridge students, what can you expect?”
I think that the KGB and Stasi had a new partner in the misión of destroying me.
I also had better mend some fences as there were a lot of powerful Cambridge graduates that I would have to do business with. But that was a problem for another day.
Chapter 18
The rest of the weekend was quiet. Nina was still getting caught up on her school work. She had lost a lot of class time recently to modeling work. Fortunately, her school loved the publicity they were getting so were willing to work with her.
I spent my weekend running and riding the horse my parents had bought me. While a good horse, he wasn’t George.
I also helped out at the dig site. The only work I could do there was considered general labor. It still felt good to contribute even if it was only driving a stake to outline a building.
There was a minor bit of excitement when another basement was found. This time it was under what was thought to be a temple to Mars, the Roman god of war.
There were Spears, shields, swords, and pieces of amour. The only problem was that were they cheaply made and would not have held up in a real fight.
The interns argued about they could have been. To me who had worked in the movies, it was obvious.
“They are props.”
Once I said that all was clear. The Roman priest would present plays about their gods to show how powerful they were. While these ítems were mentioned in books of the time, none had ever been found. Another first for the site.
One other question that I had and asked.
“What happened to all the stone parts of the buildings above ground?”
It was explained to me that a survey was being taken of all older buildings in the área. It was typical practice to use an old ruin like this as a quarry.
It looked like a lot of local homeowners would have some bragging rights about their buildings in the days to come.
On Sunday afternoon I received a phone call from Mr. Norman. It seems the guy who tried to kill me at the press conference had East German connections. They couldn’t tie him directly to the Stasi but it was beginning to look like they weren’t done with me.
I had a choice, go into hiding, or not let the fear of them rule me. Use common sense and try to be aware of my surroundings at all times, but not cower and hide.
On Monday I gathered up all my school notes and extra books to take to Pinewood with me. It was the first week of shooting on the new movie, ‘Edgware.’
A good part of the week would be doing lighting checks, wardrobe checks, and script walkthroughs.
It was almost humdrum to me, I had been through the process enough times there were no surprises.
I had ample time for my schoolwork. I had my house tráiler set up. I even requested a Xerox machine and typewriter which were delivered with no argument.
I made sure to be polite and work with everyone on the set. Even the one old bugger who worked lighting. He was a dyed in the wool communist but took pride in his work.
He never missed a chance to talk about me as a capitalist pig, but he always had my lighting correct and professional. As my Dad had told me a long time ago, you don’t have to like everyone you work with.
I think I earned his respect when after referring to me as a capitalist pig right next to me, I turned and stated that he was a fellow traveler who would be allowed to starve to death when the first five-year plan failed.
That took him back for a moment.
“You may have the right of that you know.”
“Yeah, and people should starve if we pigs are allowed to keep all of the money.”
That put us in the position of having different ideologies while recognizing that our own had weaknesses.
When we got to the final scene of the walkthrough there was one curve thrown at the Director that took him aback.
Our lead actress stated that she wouldn’t be kissing me. She had a boyfriend and he was the only one she would kiss.
Since they were only doing lighting checks for each camera position it made no difference who kissed her.
Her boyfriend stood in for me. It became apparent at once to get the right lighting he needed to stand on a box to replicate my height. The whole crew must have wondered why I was laughing like a loon.
They kept trying to get it right but his height just made too much difference. The Director had me stand in and pretend to kiss her. If I got too close to the pretend kiss she would shove me away.
That got old fast. She was finally told that she had no choice but to kiss me as would have to once the film was rolling.
“Then I quit.”
At that, she and her boyfriend left the set to start their new life, anywhere but the movies. She was done.
Now I had a movie but no opposing star. Unlike the live theater, there were no understudies. There were stunt doubles. Her stunt doublé was a pleasant woman of about the same build, but frankly, she was far from the attractive woman needed for the movie.
I was glad she had come to terms with that as she did stand-in for the lighting checks. She also was a very enthusiastic kisser. She told me she wasn’t going to pass up her chance to make out with a star.
That stroked my ego until I figured out that she didn’t care which star, it could have been Francis the Talking Mule for all she cared. Talk about a letdown.
After the day's work, I had a choice I could drive an hour back home, or sleep in the tráiler. I chose the drive. I was glad I did.
As I was getting into my Aston Martin I heard my name called. It was Bond, James Bond, or as he was known, Sean Connery.
He wanted a good look at my car to see how a production model differed from his movie car. Other than no GPS screen, revolving number plates, an oil slick, smoke screen, machine guns, rear bulletproof screen, tire slasher, or the all-important ejector seat it was identical
He laughed and told me, “well since it doesn’t have those features I’m not interested.”
In turn, I told him, “But it would be a great bird magnet for you.”
That gave us both a laugh, the last thing Sean Connery needed was a car to attract women. We shook hands and parted, he to some mysterious meeting, me for a night's sleep.
I made up the mysterious meeting. Odds were it was a late dinner by the tellie. Ah, who am I kidding?
On the drive home I got behind a Lorry that was driving slow. As it got just past an intersection the driver jammed on his brakes. At the same time, another large Lorrie came straight at me from the sidestreet.
This is where the Aston Martin paid for itself with its responsive handling. I had braked for the Lorry in front of me, when I saw the Lorry coming from the side I hit the gas and veered right, onto a narrow sidewalk. Fortunately, it was late enough the stores were closed so no foot traffic.
Once I was safely out of the sights of the Lorry coming from the side I hit the
brakes again, coming to a dead stop. While I did this the two trucks kept going.
I sat there and shook for a minute. An accident? I didn’t think so. Maybe it was time to send another message.
The question was what message and to whom.
After settling down I drove home. The next morning before heading back to the studio I called Mr. Norman and shared my fears. He agreed it didn’t look good and that he would ask some questions.
In the meantime, he reminded me of some tradecraft that I had gotten lax on. I needed to vary my routes so they couldn’t set up simple traps.
I felt like an idiot as I got out a book of maps and plotted several different routes I could take. I also packed a bag so I could stay at the studio overnight.
I let Grand Mum know that I may stay over some nights, but not about what I thought of as attempts on my life.
I did call Mum and let her know that I may need to borrow the sterling, I may have to set a table. She understood my message and told me she would explore what was going on.
The trip to the studio was uneventful. The only excitement for the day was when my communist lighting friend told me that I was okay for a capitalist pig. That was after holding a lighting stand for him.
I spent the night in the tráiler.
Chapter 19
I thought long and hard about the Soviet and East Germans. If one were keeping score I was far ahead. That pun wasn’t intended. Some memories are too gruesome to joke about.
Recently they had tried to kill me twice. I couldn’t prove it in a court of law. I didn’t have to.
Since there had been no deaths in the last two attempts and it was only me involved no lethal retaliation was warranted. At the same time, I wanted them to not doubt that I was unhappy with the state of affairs.
I decided a nice fire would be the answer. I would burn the Soviet Embassies garage to the ground along with their vehicles.
