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“If the weather conditions were perfect, and they are usually pretty good at this time of the year, we’d have an outside chance, but you’ve only got to mention the words Blue Riband and the first thing people think about is the Titanic. So we mustn’t even suggest the possibility until the Statue of Liberty can be seen on the horizon.”
“Chairman, how many people are we expecting to attend the naming ceremony?”
“The chief constable tells me it could be three, or perhaps even four, thousand.”
“And who’s in charge of security?”
“The police are responsible for crowd control and public safety.”
“While we pick up the bill.”
“Just like a football match,” said Knowles.
“Let’s hope not,” said Emma. “If there are no more questions, I’d like to propose that we hold our next board meeting in the Walter Barrington suite of the Buckingham on the return voyage from New York. Until then, I look forward to seeing all of you here at precisely ten o’clock on the twenty-first.”
“But that’s over an hour before the dear lady is due to arrive,” said Bob Bingham.
“You’ll find we rise early in the West Country, Mr. Bingham. That’s how we birds catch the worm.”
44
“YOUR MAJESTY, MAY I present Mrs. Clifton, the chairman of Barrington Shipping,” said the lord lieutenant.
Emma curtsied, and waited for the Queen Mother to say something, as the briefing notes had made it clear that you mustn’t speak until spoken to, and you should never ask a question.
“How Sir Walter would have enjoyed today, Mrs. Clifton.”
Emma remained speechless, because she knew her grandfather had only met the Queen Mother once and, although he often referred to the occasion, and even had a photograph in his office to remind everyone of it, she hadn’t expected HM to remember it as well.
“May I present Admiral Summers,” said Emma, taking over from the lord lieutenant, “who has served on the board of Barrington’s for over twenty years.”
“The las
t time we met, admiral, you kindly showed me over your destroyer, HMS Chevron.”
“I think you’ll find, ma’am, that it was the King’s destroyer. I was only in temporary command.”
“A nice distinction, admiral,” said the Queen Mother as Emma continued to introduce her fellow directors, and could only wonder what Her Majesty would make of their latest recruit to the board.
“Mr. Bingham, you have been banned from the palace.” Bob Bingham’s mouth opened, but no words came out. “To be fair, not you personally, but your fish paste.”
“But why, ma’am?” asked Bob, ignoring his briefing notes.
“Because my grandson, Prince Andrew, keeps putting his finger in the jar, mimicking the little boy on your label.”
Bob didn’t say another word as the Queen Mother moved on to meet the ship’s architect.
“When we last met…”
Emma checked her watch as the Queen Mother chatted to the chairman of Harland and Wolff.
“And what is your next project, Mr. Baillie?”
“It’s all very hush-hush at the moment, ma’am. All I can tell you is that the letters ‘HMS’ will precede the name on the side of the vessel, and it will spend an awful lot of time under the water.”
The Queen Mother smiled as the lord lieutenant guided her toward a comfortable chair just behind the rostrum.
Emma waited for her to be seated, before she made her way to the rostrum herself to deliver a speech that didn’t require notes, because she knew it by heart. She gripped the sides of the lectern, took a deep breath as Giles had advised her to do and looked down at the vast crowd, far more than the four thousand the police had predicted, which had fallen silent in anticipation.
