Chapter 12
In the days since her accident Crystal had suffered a good deal with her broken ribs which gave her no rest on the long flight home. Although she had a bed on the plane and was made as comfortable as possible she ached and had sharp stabs of pain when she breathed. The nurse who accompanied her kept up the painkillers but Crystal needed comfort.
'Could I have my hot water bottle?' she asked.
'Of course Miss, I'll try and find it.'
The nurse searched the hand luggage but no hot water bottle was to be found. Crystal hoped it was in one of the larger bags.
'My grandmother gave it to me,' she explained to the nurse. 'It's so warm and has a very pretty cover...' she said as she finally went to sleep, 'Very pretty.'
The nurse placed her hand very gently on Crystal's wrist and took her pulse. She looked at her bruised face and the lines on her forehead even in sleep. Sympathy washed over her,
'And all she wants is her hot water bottle. We'd better find it then.' On the return to the Palace Crystal's luggage was searched but no hot water bottle was found.
If it hadn't been for Crystal's injuries it is likely Archie and Terri would not have been lost. However, her injuries were the reason they were found. The tabloid press covered every moment of the accident, Crystal's admission to hospital in Queenstown, the airlift to Australia and her return home.
It seemed there was no other news on the 24 hour television channels, on the internet and in the print media: everything was Crystal. A hermit living in a cave would have been pressed to avoid knowledge of the accident and its aftermath.
However, when a person spends their time alone cleaning other people's houses, doing their washing, ironing and tidying up they may live in a bubble of constant motion without interaction with current events. It would be very different if such a person worked with others but the very able woman who now cleaned the ambassador's extremely popular Queenstown holiday house worked by herself. As a result she was so occupied very little impinged on her life as she went about the seemingly endless task of keeping the house in order during and after its use by a succession of guests.
When the woman unpegged Terri from the clothes line she was about to drop her into the basket of clean things when she noticed a small, exquisitely embroidered monogram sewn to Terri's inside seam. Its finely woven woollen cloth was crimson. A golden crown and the initials of a living monarch shone in carefully wrought embroidery on the cloth.
The woman's isolation and disinterest was at least penetrated by one simple fact: the hot water bottle cover seemed to have a royal connection. She left Terri on the kitchen table but mulled over the monogram as she folded the remainder of the washing and deposited it in various rooms, drawers and cupboards.
When she was done she sat down and examined Terri very carefully. Her buttons were missing but she was otherwise in pretty good order. She bore deep impressions on her shoulders from the pegs and wasn't particularly fluffy as there had been no wind that day but the woman thought she would do. As to the buttons, the woman went to the laundry and removed the bag from the vacuum cleaner.
After some digging around in the dust and detritus of the floors she found three white buttons,
'One short,' she thought. She dug further. The fourth button was found.
'Your mate's in the bathroom,' she said and retrieved Archie. The sight of Terri in the woman's other hand sent him into a spin. They were back together.
'Well, nearly,' he thought. Back in the kitchen the woman took out a needle and thread and began to sew on Terri's buttons. There were small tears in the fabric where the boy had torn Terri open but the woman deftly darned the holes. Finished, she slipped Archie back into the arms of his beloved and did up the buttons.
Hot water bottle and cover would have hugged and kissed their saviour if they had been able, they were so grateful to her. The only thing that remained was to get home. Would the woman help them? As they wondered the woman turned on the television set to the twenty four hour news channel. Film was playing of Crystal being lifted from an aircraft and into an ambulance for the journey to the Palace.
'That's the girl who was staying here,' the woman said. She turned and looked at Archie and Terri lying on the table, 'Do you belong to her?'
Amazed at being spoken to, Archie and Terri started to speak together,
'Yes, yes we do, we're Crystal's, we were left behind...' Before they could say anymore the woman turned back to the television and pressed the remote. The television went black.
'Well, I suppose I'd better ring up.' She dialled and spoke for some time with a person named Marcus,
'Yes, all right,' she said. 'Yes, it's right here. I'll keep it safe.' She hung up the phone. 'Well I never, a royal hot water bottle. Now I've heard everything.' She shook her head in disbelief.
By the time Crystal returned to the Palace and was carefully installed in her own bed no less a person than Jeff had been charged with the duty of finding Archie and Terri. Given he felt himself to be in disgrace he applied himself to the task willingly. If Crystal wanted the damn thing he'd get it back. Telephone calls, texts and diplomatic cables flew across the ether to New Zealand. On the day the woman was restoring Archie and Terri Jeff was in despair. There had been no news despite all his efforts. The call from the Ambassador's secretary came as Jeff was about to put MI6 on the job.
'I wouldn't have really gone to MI6,' he thought, 'Or would I?' He had some cause to think about the extent of his zeal in the search for Archie and Terri as he prepared to go home for few days off.
Jeff badly needed some time away; he'd been constantly on duty for two weeks and the worry of Crystal's injuries was taking its toll. He'd taken some criticism from his superiors but he'd expected that: twenty twenty rear vision was their specialty.
'He should have prevented the incident,' was what it came down to.
'I could have locked her up in the house I suppose, that would have done it.' His thoughts on the subject were not bitter but close to it. There were things about his job he hated, especially bosses who'd forgotten what it was like to be out there with a determined young woman.
Strangely he'd had no criticism from the Palace. Although Her Majesty had returned from her tour nothing had come from her Private Secretary or the Master of the Household. Jeff had been on duty in the Palace since Crystal's return but he hadn't been summoned. He wondered why.
'Oh well,' he thought, 'There's plenty of time. I only have to wait.' He went home and slept and slept.
Crystal was mending but the pain of her broken ribs would last for weeks. Her grandmother came to her room as soon as she returned. She gently hugged Crystal and kissed her forehead.
'Oh my dear girl, I'm so relieved.' She looked at her granddaughter with eyes that threatened to overflow. 'She could have been killed,' she thought. Dismissing the thought as silly speculation she sat down beside the bed and said,
'Tell me what happened.'
Crystal related the accident as well as she could remember. It didn't vary from the accounts her grandmother had already received, including an independent report from the New Zealand government. As Crystal finished speaking she thought,
'A pure accident, probably the rock they hit had fallen into the river from above. The driver was very experienced and had taken that route hundreds of times before. He could not have known the hazard was there.'
'Grandmother, please don't let them blame Jeff Davis any more, it wasn't his fault. I wanted to go. It's usually safe, people do it everyday...'
'I know, don't worry, he'll be all right. I'll have a word.'
And she did. Jeff wasn't summoned, the Head of Special Branch was. Her Majesty was not alone. Her Private Secretary and the Master of the Household were also present.
The Head of Special Branch gulped, 'It can't be good if they're here,' he thought. 'She only calls them in when she wants witnesses.'
After a tense five minutes in which Her Majesty remained seate
d whilst Jeff's superior remained standing, the now shaking man left with sweat dribbling down his neck. Obviously it didn't do to upset Her Majesty. She'd been quite clear and her instructions short,
'The criticism of Constable Davis was to stop, he was not at fault and he was to be told so.'
He didn't argue, all he wanted was to get away. Obviously visits to the Palace were not his thing.
Jade, who'd been grubbing about in various rat holes to get enough money for a fare to New Zealand, saw the news reports and was thrilled by Crystal's return. The footage included Jeff, standing near the stretcher as it was loaded into the ambulance.
'Well,' Jade said to the television, 'We'll see about you mate. Look out, I'm coming.'
Another person who was coming and going, a lot, was Richard Holland who visited Crystal at least once every day. He was considerate, cheering and apparently devoted. On his return to duty in Crystal's apartment Jeff often saw him, arms full of flowers, books, DVDs and small cuddly animals.
'He's laying it on,' Jeff thought with a vehemence he didn't recognise, 'Good and thick.'
As Crystal recovered Richard began to take her out into the garden where they'd sit and he'd amuse her with accounts of parties and who was seeing who. His knowledge of the city's high life was phenomenal and he was very good at telling a story. Obviously Crystal adored him and was anxious to be healed so they could continue their relationship. For the moment Richard was tender and affectionate, nothing more.
Jeff watched Richard, considered and waited. It was some weeks later when he had what he wanted. He reported and was given his orders: to see Richard and deal with him.