The Queen and Mr Dukes : 1 E-Book

Katie Penryn

• Herausgeber: Karibu Publishers SAS
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: The Queen and Mr Dukes Compilations
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 250

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

These four tongue-in-cheek stories take place in the make-believe island of Mazita, off the Kenyan coast in the sixties. Our diffident hero, Bob Dukes, is a novice single parent of three adventurous young children and newly appointed Commercial Officer, assistant to the Governor of Mazita. Overwhelmed with the often-conflicting tasks of keeping his children happy and fulfilling his boss's demands, he turns for help and guidance to his mentor and ultimate employer, the Queen. After all, he is Her Man in Mazita. This edition has the addition of the author's background notes to her stories, which is not available in the individual stories in the series, “Our Man in Mazita”.

Beau-ootiful Soo-oop! - Bob Dukes, diffident hero, is a recently appointed and inexperienced diplomat working for Her Majesty's Britannic Government in the early sixties on the island of Mazita off the East African coast. As well as learning his new duties, he is faced with the task of being a single father to his three children. Bob's first official task is to organize a dinner for his boss, the Governor Designate of Mazita, who wishes to establish cordial relations with local bigwigs drawn from the many different cultures. Add to this minefield a reluctant first course and you will see why readers enjoy this story.

Something Spotted - This is the second story featuring Bob Dukes, diffident hero and single parent to his three children, Poppy, Suze and Charlie. Bob is now beginning to find his feet as the newly appointed Commercial Officer and aide to the Governor of Mazita. Life would be sweet if he could just get on with his real job, but every time he sorts out a problem, Sir Phillip comes up with another role to add to his job description. This time it is White Hunter and Bob is instructed to rid the neighborhood of a marauding leopard. Bob has never actually shot anything but a stuffed target during his army service, long ago during World War II. He's not at all happy about having to confront a 'big cat'. But his friends come to his rescue and he gives the situation his best shot, in keeping with the esprit de corps of the Diplomatic Service.

Something Rotten - Bob Dukes lives on the idyllic tropical island of Mazita where he is the single parent of Poppy, Suze and Charlie. His boss, the Governor of this Crown Protectorate on the East African coast, is always calling Bob into his office and giving him some impossible task, well outside his job description as Commercial Officer and Aide. In this quirky tale the future success of the island as an off-shore center is threatened by the strong whiff of corruption. Bob attempts to get to the bottom of things and see the guilty punished while he staves off life threats to the islanders and his family.
Money laundering is involved long before the term was even coined!

Christmas in Mazita - In this offbeat Christmas story about Bob Dukes and his family, Bob is called upon to entertain the Royal Navy over the Christmas period. He is annoyed about this as he feels it is outside his remit as Commercial Officer to the Governor of Mazita, an off-shore island on the East African coast. The task proves to be even more challenging than expected especially for Poppy, Suze and Charlie who are called upon to display a compassion and knowledge way beyond their years.
 

Leseprobe

The Queen and Mr Dukes : 1

Tales from the tropical African island of Mazita : Books 1 to 4

Katie Penryn

Published byKaribu Publishers SAS

katiepenryn.com

The QUEENand Mr DUKES

1

Tales from the tropical African island of Mazita

Books 1 to 4

KATIE PENRYN

PUBLISHED BY:

Karibu Publishers SAS

Copyright © 2021 by Katie Penryn

KatiePenryn.com

All rights reserved in all media. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior written consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, locales and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

These stories are published as individual novellas:

Beau—ootiful Soo-oop! © 2012

Something Spotted © 2012

Something Rotten © 2012

Christmas in Mazita © 2012

Cover by the author

Created with Vellum

Contents

BEAU—OOTIFUL SOO—OOP!

Turtle Soup

1. The Turtle

2. Two Weeks Earlier

3. New Things

4. Bob’s New Friend

5. A Difficult Task

6. Research

7. Bob has another Problem

8. A possible solution

9. The Rescue

10. The Dinner

11. Crisis

SOMETHING SPOTTED

1. A close Escape

2. A Visit to the Dog Pound

3. A Visitor in the Night

4. White Hunter

5. A Trip to the Liwali

6. The Stake-out

7. Second Attempt

8. A Stitch in Time

9. Revenge

SOMETHING ROTTEN

1. Development Plans

2. Her Majesty’s Warning

3. Nolini and his Hotel

4. First Rumblings

5. Investigations begin

6. Investigations continue

7. Diversion

8. Reaction

9. Time for Action

10. More than one Way to skin a Cat

CHRISTMAS IN MAZITA

1. The Royal Navy pays a Christmas Visit

2. Bob goes missing

3. Home alone

4. All’s well that ends well

BACKGROUND NOTES

THE WITCH WHO COULDN’T SPELL

CHAPTER ONE

Glossary

BEAU—OOTIFUL SOO—OOP!

BOOK ONE

Turtle Soup

as sung by the Mock Turtle in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”

Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,

Waiting in a hot tureen!

Who for such dainties would not stoop?

Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!

Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,

Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,

Game or any other dish?

Who would not give all else for two

Pennyworth only of Beautiful Soup?

Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,

Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!

1

The Turtle

AS SOON AS BOB DUKES stopped the car under the mango tree in the LaGrange’s yard, Poppy leapt out of the front seat and ran to the top of the cliff where the path led down to the beach.

“Come on, everyone!” she shouted. “Last one down the cliff is a….”

“Wait, Poppy, you’re not wearing your sunhat,” her father called out to her, but she disappeared down the cliff path, with fiddler crabs skittering off in all directions.

Bob shrugged his shoulders. Why was his twelve-year-old daughter always so bossy? He turned to let his younger children, Suze and Charlie, out of the back of the car. They ran off after their sister down the path. Bob put on his pith helmet and followed on behind, carrying the children’s sunhats. When he reached the beach, he found the three children crowded round the object of their journey. There on the brown sludge next to a mangrove thicket was the promised turtle.

He lay on his back with his fat khaki-colored flippers tethered to rough stakes beaten down into the mud.

“He’s huge,” said Poppy. “He’s a real giant.”

“Do you think he’s bigger than I am?” asked Charlie. He lay down on the mud alongside the turtle to see. The turtle reached from Charlie’s feet to his chin and Charlie was three foot six inches tall. That made the turtle just over three feet long.

 “He must weight almost as much as all of us put together,” said Bob. “At least 300 pounds.”

 “Is he dead?” asked Charlie for the turtle was not moving at all. Even his eyes were shut.

 “He looks miserable, Daddy,” said Suze.

She was right. The creature was in distress. Moreover, Bob knew that male turtles never left the sea. The turtle’s element was water, not earth.

“It’s so hot here on the beach,” said Poppy, “and there’s not much shade.”

“Daddy, can’t we let him go?” asked Charlie tugging at his father’s hand.

 “Bob, you made it,” called out a deep voice from behind them. They hadn’t noticed that Dominique LaGrange had joined them. “I think this animal is just what you were looking for, n’est-ce pas?”

Bob turned to shake Dominique’s hand. “Well, yes and no. He’s certainly a magnificent specimen.”

“Is good, no?” asked Dominique again. “It’s such a big one.  It’ll have lots of fat.”

Unfortunately, Dominique was right, thought Bob. Heaven help him, it was just the right kind of turtle for making soup. A green sea turtle, a chelonia mydas.

“What’s Dominique talking about, Daddy?” asked Suze.

“Is for soup, Suze” interrupted Dominique.

“That’s not true, is it Daddy?” asked Poppy.

Her father didn’t answer.

“That’s cruel! Can’t we let him go? Please Daddy,” begged Charlie again.

An adult look passed between the two men. “You see how it is, Dominique,” said Bob. “I will have to reconsider all this. How to dispatch the poor creature, how to transport it…”

“Is easy… whumpf… chop off ’is ’ead,” answered Dominique, sweeping his arm down with vigor.

Poppy gasped, Suze looked at her father as if she couldn’t believe what Dominique was saying and Charlie cried out, “You’re not really going to kill him, are you?”

Bob himself felt sick at the thought of reducing such a noble creature to a mere bowl of soup.

“I’ll have to get back to you on this, Dominique.”

“Okay. I’ll keep ’im for you, Mr Dukes,” promised Dominique.

2

Two Weeks Earlier

“THE OLD MAN WILL see you now!”

Bob Dukes lowered the phone with a shaking hand. His stomach was cramping as the fight-or-flight mechanism kicked in. This was it. Today he would learn his fate.

For months rumors had been circulating throughout the office, the town, the country. The wind of change of the fifties and early sixties was buffeting the British expatriate community, sweeping aside their style of life and their job tenure.

The Old Man was the Commissioner of Customs and Excise for East Africa. It was his duty to tell each of his expatriate employees what the political changes would mean to him or her.

Up till now the four East African countries of Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania and Opunto, known as KUTO for short, had been administered under the umbrella of a High Commission. But now with Tanzania already independent from British colonial rule and with Uganda and Kenya close to achieving the same status, Opunto was the last on the East African list. It was obvious to all that the High Commission had to be abolished and replaced with a separate administration for each of the four territories.

Bob took several slow, deep breaths to bring himself down from his state of mind-numbing and knee-trembling panic. He straightened his tropical uniform, tucking his white short-sleeved shirt into his white knee-length shorts, and pulling up his long white cotton stockings. He dipped his fingers in his water glass and ran his hand over his head to smarten up what remained of his dark brown hair. He polished his glasses and squared his shoulders.

Better to get this over with. The sooner he knew the worst, the sooner he could start tackling the repercussions.

But he was apprehensive. Yes, he stood to lose his job but also his three children. Only two weeks before he had taken them back from his estranged wife who had seized custody while he’d been touring the four territories on official business.

Bob had collected the children from their mother for his alternate day of custody and then had not returned them. Some might consider that kidnapping, but Bob had assured himself that he was rescuing them and offering them a better life. All that would prove false if he lost his job and with it his entitlement to subsidized housing and home leave to England. And the danger was that when the eventual divorce case took place, the courts would find in his wife’s favor.

“Come in, come in, Bob, and sit down,” said the Old Man as he patted Bob on the shoulder and led him to a chair. “Don’t look so glum. Things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

Bob tried to smile but couldn’t. It was all he could do to stop his lips from jerking up and down. He must look like a complete idiot.

“Now, Bob, this is how things are.”

The Old Man explained what was going to happen. Yes, the High Commission of the four territories would be disbanded and Opunto itself would become independent. However, and this was the good part, the island of Mazita and its off lying isles were to be separated politically from Opunto, and be established as a Crown Protectorate along the lines of the Cayman Islands.

“Yes, but with all due respect, sir, where does that leave me?” asked Bob. He wished the Old Man would stop waffling and tell him his fate.

“Your contract will be ended, of course, and you will receive a golden handshake to compensate you for your loss of career, Bob, and the details of this will be sent to you in due course. I’m sure that doesn’t come as any surprise as you will have been following how similar situations have been handled in other ex-colonies.”

“That’s something at least, sir.”

“You’re a good man, Bob. The new government of Opunto would like to offer you a contract to mentor your Opuntan replacement. And you should consider this seriously. But a counter offer has been put forward by Her Majesty’s government. They would like you to accept the position of Commercial Officer in the new Mazita administration. You would be working directly for the Governor.”

“But why me, Sir? I have no experience in diplomacy.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Bob. Your work in compiling the Trade Report for the four territories has been exceptional. Always on time. You have an in-depth knowledge of the whole import/export field and will be an asset in the setting up of an off-shore base for British interests in the area.”

“I am taken aback, sir. I didn’t expect anything like this. How long do I have to make the decision?”

“The Governor Designate would like to meet with you and brief you on the requirements of the position. He’s hoping for a speedy decision, I understand.”

Bob thanked the Old Man for his interest and returned to his own office to do some serious thinking.

 SIR PHILLIP JARVIS, THE GOVERNOR DESIGNATE, was a typical public school product: charming, polished and intelligent. Although he was shorter than Bob’s rangy six feet by at least four inches, his professional gravitas didn’t suffer because of that. Bob guessed him to be about fifty years old but he looked fit. Unlike Bob he had managed to keep his hair — a great mop of tawny blond which set off his sharp blue eyes.

Civilities out of the way, Sir Phillip explained to Bob that Mazita was to be a hub for investment and new development in the four territories. It would be his job to ease the way for British firms to take advantage of the expansion which was expected to follow independence. He would have to meet-and-greet prospective investors and brief them on the realities of operating in KUTO. Make them feel at home. Smooth out their problems. Help them network.

“It sounds like a challenging and interesting position, your Excellency,” ventured Bob, when he had a chance to speak.

“Oh, please, Bob, Sir Phillip or just sir will do informally. Do you have any questions?”

“Just a couple, sir.  When would you like me to start? And, of a more personal nature, will there be housing provided as I have three children, and I need to settle them somewhere other than a hotel?”

“I’d like you to start as soon as possible, Bob. I’ve cleared it with the Commissioner, and your new office is ready for you. As to housing, there is an old colonial style house available next door to the grounds of Government House. I think it will do perfectly for your family. It has a large garden with plenty of trees and access to the beach. Will that do you?”

“That’s wonderful, Sir Phillip. It has been an anxious time around here for the past few months.”

“I’ll just get my secretary to show you your office and arrange for you to visit the house,” added Sir Phillip, as he picked up the internal phone and made the request.

“I think that’s all,” he said, rising to his feet and extending his hand across his desk to shake Bob’s. “Welcome aboard and don’t forget that you will be working directly for Her Majesty’s government here in Mazita.”

3

New Things

THE BEST THING ABOUT BOB’S NEW OFFICE was the view. The beach was a mere 100 yards away down a gentle slope. There was a track down to the beach which ran between a scattering of coconut palms and flamboyant trees. The beach was the coral sand of travel brochures and startled the eyes with its brilliance.

It was low tide when Bob walked into the office for the first time. He could see the rock pools stretching away for a quarter of a mile out to the reef where the Indian Ocean broke onto this coral barrier, one which Bob knew would make the sea inside the reef a safe playground for the children as it kept out the sharks.

What a place to work. What a joy to look out over such a picture during the working day.

Running towards him from the horizon was the indigo of the deep ocean, shading into olive green just beyond the reef. Enclosed within the reef, the limpid turquoise of the sandy based calmer water ran inwards to the lettuce green of the rock pools near the shore. Gentle waves ran up over the pale beige of the wet sand below the high tide mark and rippled on to the eye dazzling white above the high-water line. Moving upwards from the beach towards Government House were the different greens of the trees with their highlights of vermillion flamboyant flowers and the faded cerise of oleanders. To cap it all, below his window grew a row of his favorite tree, the frangipani, both pink and white.

How his prospects had changed in twenty-four hours. He must do all he could to hang on to this luck. Who would have thought only a week ago that he would have a new exciting and challenging job, an inspiring workplace and a wonderful home for his children?

He turned from the window and looked round the office. There was nothing out of the ordinary — just the usual office equipment. However, there was a portrait of her Majesty the Queen hanging on the back wall facing the sea. As befitted her regal status, the portrait was large and set in a heavily embossed gilt frame. It was a copy of Annigoni’s famous portrait of the Queen.  Bob had fallen in love with this particular portrait the first time he’d seen it. Painted when she was twenty-eight and had been Queen for only three years, it showed a beautiful young woman standing as straight and as tall as could be. She was dressed in the robes of the Order of the Garter, the weight of the robes being a metaphor for the weight of the task she had inherited.

A royal portrait was standard in all HM’s offices but Bob was pleased that he had an Annigoni copy in his office. We have something in common, he thought. I feel overwhelmed with the responsibility of this position and I suppose she was, too, when she became queen at such a young age.

“Quite so, Mr Dukes”, said a quiet feminine voice.

Bob looked round. He hadn’t heard anyone come into the office. No one had. He must be imagining things. It was a result of all the stress of the last few weeks. He had to pull himself together and collect the children from their primary school and take them to see their new house. He couldn’t wait to see their delight when they found they could walk down to the beach.

 THE CHILDREN LOVED THE HOUSE as much as he thought they would. It was an old wooden structure set on pillars of rough-hewn coral to keep the house and its palm-leaf roof safe from termites. It consisted of three spacious rooms, twenty foot by twenty foot, with a wide verandah running all the way round. The verandah was enclosed by large windows and wooden shutters. The kitchen and bathroom were at ground level and built of coral blocks, with stairs enclosed by burglar-proofing leading up to the main house. There was a dining room and two bedrooms. The verandah was set up as a sitting room. The front of the house looked out over the same seascape as could be seen from Bob’s office but just a little further around the island. It was a charming building of much character.

“Daddy I can’t believe we’re going to live here after that dreadful poky hotel,” said Poppy. She ran up the stairs calling out to Suze and Charlie to follow. After they’d had a good look round, they started to argue about who would sleep where.

“That’s enough from the three of you,” said Bob. “Why don’t you explore the garden and run down to the beach?”

Off they went, the girls skipping and laughing and Charlie trying to keep up.

Bob locked up the house and followed them down.

Later, on the way back to what Poppy had called their poky hotel, Suze asked, “When can we move in, Daddy? I’m longing to live in that pretty house.”

“I’m sure we can manage it by the end of the week,” answered her father. “I need to sort out sheets and blankets and boring things like that, and take on someone to help with the housework and garden.”

“You know, Daddy,” piped up little Charlie from the back seat. “There’s only one thing missing.”

“And what’s that?”

“We need a dog to come and live with us. What’s the point of such a wonderful house and garden if we don’t have a dog to go on adventures with us? Do you think Mummy would let us have our old dog?”

“That’s an interesting idea, Charlie,” replied his father smiling. “I’ll certainly ask her. What kind of dog is it?”

“It’s a sausage dog and we call her Coca Cola,” answered Charlie.

“That’s because she’s fat and looks like a Coke bottle,” added Suze.

THE NEXT DAY, WEDNESDAY, was a school day. Suze had a piano lesson on Wednesdays after school during term time. Poppy would collect Charlie from his classroom and the two of them would sit at the back of the school assembly room behaving while Suze had her lesson.

But this week Suze’s teacher was late for the lesson — just when Suze had so much to tell her. Suze was sitting kicking the piano stool and lifting up the lid and banging it down again when Annette Nolini, her piano teacher, rushed in.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said as she dropped her clutter on the floor and then refastened her long, dark curly hair into a bunch. “The babysitter was late arriving to look after my children this afternoon. We’ll just have to run our lesson on a bit to make up for the lost time. What time is your mother coming to fetch you?”

“Mummy’s not coming today,” said Suze. “We’re living with Daddy now, and he said he’d be here at the usual time.”

“Well then, we’d better get on with our lesson, Susan. I haven’t met your father, and we don’t want him to think I’m a bad teacher, do we?” said Annette, picking up the music book and turning to the right page. “Here you are, start from the top line.”

Thirty minutes into the forty-minute lesson Suze was still torturing the piano the way most young children do, when the door opened and Bob came in.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you would be finished by now,” he said.

Annette looked up to see a youngish man. About thirty-five or so. Rather young to have sole charge of three children. He was tall and slim. As he walked over to shake her hand, she noticed that his brown eyes were gentle behind his round tortoiseshell glasses. When he spoke, he had a pleasant voice with a slight English regional accent. Annette didn’t know enough about such accents to know what part of England he came from for Annette was Seychelloise — a beautiful woman of mixed French parentage from the islands of the Seychelles out in the Indian Ocean. She was married to an Italian aircraft mechanic who worked for Alitalia in Mazita. Married woman or not, she summed Bob up as an attractive man, one worth knowing.

Annette explained that the lesson was running late and invited Bob to sit in on the rest of the lesson. He would be happy to, he said, as he was something of a pianist himself. He could play by ear, he added, but had not had proper lessons.

When the lesson was over Annette suggested that he consider learning to play from music. The family could stay on after Suze’s lesson. Bob replied that he would think about it, but he had a lot on his mind at the moment with organizing the new house.

“And Daddy’s just started a new job. He’s important now,” boasted Charlie.

“Yes?” asked Annette.

“I wouldn’t say I was important but I think the job is. I’ve been appointed Commercial Officer to the new Governor of Mazita.”

“Congratulations! And good luck with the new job,” she added as they all left the hall together.

4

Bob’s New Friend

NEXT MORNING BOB ARRIVED at his office early. It was an easy walk over to Government House from their new home. He found a pile of folders on his desk with a note saying that he should read and familiarize himself with the contents.

What a waste of such a beautiful morning, thought Bob.

“You should see the mountain of papers I have to read every morning,” said a female voice.

Bob looked up expecting to see the Governor’s secretary but there was no one there. Must be going barmy, he thought.

“Not at all,” said the voice. “You’re not looking in the right direction.”

This was peculiar. There was no one else in the office with him. “Wake up!” he said to himself and started on the top file.

“I like to see a conscientious worker,” said the feminine voice.

Not funny — hearing voices. First sign of madness. Maybe some fresh air was needed. He left his chair and went to the window and took several deep breaths.

“Feeling better now, Mr Dukes?” asked the voice.

Bob spun round but again, there was no one there.

“How blind can you be, Mr Dukes? I’m over here,” said the voice.

Bob looked in the direction of the voice but all he could see was Annigoni’s portrait of the Queen. Was he nuts? Could the voice be coming from the painting?

He walked right up to the portrait and looked at it carefully. It was just a painting. No hidden speakers. No mumbo jumbo. Just a painting and a print at that.

The Queen’s eyes swiveled towards him. Was he seeing things? He must be. He turned away and then spun back to the painting again. Nothing. There you are. Just imagining things. He went back to his desk.

Bob read the files with great concentration taking notes in longhand until the office messenger brought in coffee at eleven o’clock.

As the door closed behind the messenger on his way out, he heard someone say, “I don’t like coffee much, do you, Mr Dukes?”

This time he realized that the sound was certainly coming from the painting. He walked up to it again.

The Queen smiled. “See,” she said. “You’re not mad. I really do talk.”

“But how can you, you’re just a painting?”

“Don’t ask me to explain, Mr Dukes. Just accept it. Don’t you want someone to talk to from time to time? I know I do. It gets lonely and boring stuck up here on the wall all the time.”

“Do you mean you want to talk to me, your Majesty?”

“I would have thought that was obvious, wouldn’t you, Mr Dukes?”

“But the impossibility of the situation aside, don’t you think it’s a little unseemly, your Majesty?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Please don’t do that your Majesty bit all the time. Protocol is that you call me your Majesty the first time you speak and after that you can address me as Ma’am.”

“Yes, I know that. It’s in one of the files I studied yesterday: Terms of Address for Royalty and VIP’s.”

“Well, there you are then, Mr Dukes.”

“What about my turning my back on you when I am sitting at my desk, ma’am?”

“I think we have to accept that the situation is not ideal and make the best of things, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Drink your coffee before it gets cold, Mr Dukes, and then tell me… are you married?”

Bob picked up his cup. “Yes and no, ma’am. I think the correct term is separated or, maybe, estranged.”

“Any hope of a reconciliation? You know, we don’t approve of divorce in our family.”

“My wife’s living with her boss, ma’am. I don’t feel there’s any way back from that even if she wanted us to get together again. And now I have re-appropriated the children, things are even frostier between us.”

“Oh, you have children, do you? How many?”

“Three, ma’am. Poppy is the oldest. She’s twelve years old and tends to be a little too serious. Suze is in the middle, she’s four years younger than Poppy. Suze is mischievous and courageous, almost foolhardy. Poppy and I have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. The youngest is Charlie. He’s six. He has a likeable disposition and is biddable, but he does allow himself to be led astray by Suze.”

“They sound quite a handful. As you know I have four children. I don’t have that much time to spend with them as I am so busy reading those documents I was telling you about or attending official functions, opening parliament, meeting foreign heads of state and Commonwealth heads of government. That’s only going to get worse now with all my colonies and protectorates achieving self-government and having their own separate prime ministers and presidents.”

“This being a single parent is all new to me, ma’am. I wasn’t exactly hands-on while my wife and I were together and so I have a lot to learn. Maybe you would be able to give me some advice along the way.”

“I’d be happy to, Mr Dukes, if I can. But hadn’t you better get on with all that official documentation. It will soon be lunchtime.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Bob and returned to sit at his desk where he spent a good forty minutes earnestly going over the dull files until the cannon at Fort Jesus gave the signal for lunch at twelve noon.

 AFTER LUNCH, BOB STROLLED BACK to the Government House offices wondering if he’d imagined his conversation with her Majesty. It couldn’t really be true, could it? Or could it? Maybe he was in some kind of parallel universe. He was so far away in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the governor approaching the front door of the offices.

He started when the governor called out, “Good afternoon, Robert. Are you settling in comfortably? Don’t forget that if you have any problems, you can speak to my secretary, Jessica. By the way, I would like to talk something over with you. Can you come to my office at about three this afternoon?”

“Of course, your Excellency,” answered Bob taking off his pith helmet, and standing back to allow the governor to pass through the door first.

“Sir Phillip will do, Robert,” reminded the governor nodding his thanks.

5

A Difficult Task

SHARP ON THE DOT OF THREE, Bob walked into the reception area of the governor’s office and was shown in to see Sir Philip by his secretary, Jessica. Once Bob was seated the governor explained why he had asked him to come to his office.

“You know Independence Day for Opunto has been set for the fifteenth of this month. HM’s Government in Whitehall wants us to host a formal informal