Chapter 25
On the impending matrimonial front the wedding gifts started to arrive. A number of large rooms had been set up to receive them. Jeff marvelled as tables covered in linen that stretched for hundreds of metres slowly filled with all manner of gifts. Every one was tagged, registered, acknowledged and displayed. The wedding gift team operated like a military machine. It began in the post office that operated under the Palace.
A rail line connected the Palace to the mail network. Trolleys of mail bags and parcels travelled on the well used tracks to the mail room where they were sorted: ordinary mail, personal mail for members of the family, and mail from people who had something to tell the Queen or ask of her came in and was distributed.
After the engagement announcement the cards of congratulations arrived in their thousands. Every one was opened and read. Crystal and Jeff went through hundreds every day before returning them to the staff to be acknowledged with a note of thanks on Palace notepaper.
Jeff and Crystal asked people to donate to charity rather than buy them wedding gifts, but in vain.
When the gifts started to arrive more staff were assigned to receive and sort them. It was a tricky business because it was seen by certain members of the entrepreneurial community as an opportunity to display their wares. All the gifts of questionable taste, including sex toys and equipment that formed the basis of monthly 'sexpros' around the country, including some very inventive leather items, went back, politely declined,
'But,' Jeff pleaded, 'the possibilities…'
'No buts,' Crystal said. 'We say thank you for your thoughtful gift which is greatly appreciated but we cannot accept commercial gifts from manufacturers or distributors.'
Jeff smirked, enjoying this tussle of wills with the protocol machine,
'But, some of them come from individuals, how do you get around that?'
She smiled back,
'We say thank you, blah, blah, blah....however HRH and Mr Davis are unable to accept any gift that may be perceived as endorsing a particular practice, custom, principle or perception.'
'What does that mean?'
'I have no idea but it's worked for the last hundred years so we're sticking to it.'
The gifts from heads of state on behalf of their countries were all accepted but when it came to the jewellery from potentates and billionaires who wanted something Crystal was overwhelmed.
They opened velvet box after velvet box filled with priceless parures of jewels: tiaras, necklaces, earrings, brooches and bracelets, all dripping with diamonds and coloured precious stones: rubies, emeralds, turquoise, sapphires.
'We can't accept all this,' she said to her grandmother, the Queen, who wisely advised her,
'The trouble is how do you refuse? It's seen as a personal insult to the ruler and a national insult to their country if you do. We'll put it all in the vault and you can wear it if and when you visit the country that gave it. Until then forget all about them. The ones from the rich and grasping we send back.
'It's such a pity: some of them are spectacular,' Crystal said. '
But my dear, you already have lovely things. That ring from Jeff is wonderful, so old. I wonder; where did it come from?'
'His great-grandmother, apparently.'
'Interesting. We must look them up because that's no ordinary ring.'
Everything to do with the wedding preparations was, as the English say, 'going along swimmingly.' The Palace machine was spinning at a prodigious rate, settling the million details that go into a royal wedding in the capital. Everyone was happy about it: courtiers, the government; the press and the public. Only two people were not looking forward to the spectacle of a wedding under the microscope, Crystal and Jeff. Their ideal wedding as Crystal described it would be,
'In Scotland with our families: no press; no carriages; no soldiers on horseback, just us in the chapel.'
'A fond dream,' Jeff said.
'Completely out of the question would be more accurate.'
They didn't fight the inevitable but it made Jeff more determined that ever to make sure they had privacy on their honeymoon. That started to look like a dream as well when he made enquiries about a number of destinations. The government of the country he considered had to be informed, diplomatic cables were exchanged, security forces would be deployed to assess risk. In the end so many people knew he wondered if they'd get as far as the airport without their destination being published. He went on, determined to surprise Crystal with a wonderful honeymoon, alone.
The press was everywhere. The Palace received requests and demands for interviews and photo sessions every day. If they couldn't get into the Palace the reporters waited wherever Jeff and Crystal went. They ignored them as best they could. Jeff concentrated on leaving security to their minders and learning his new role of supporting Crystal.
She wasn't the heir to the throne; she had an uncle who was, but she supported her grandmother whenever she was required to do so. When they went out to a number of events for the first time as a couple Jeff felt he was slacking because he wasn't doing something to protect Crystal from them.
'You have to meet and greet now, not watch the crowd,' Crystal said. 'Go on and shake some hands, they love you. Look at those young girls, they're just about swooning.'
The reason for the swoons were obvious. Jeff was in common parlance a hunk. It was no wonder the girls wanted a piece of him, he had beautiful clear blue eyes and filled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt like Marlon Brando. Embarrassed, he did his job and worked the crowd. People pressed flowers, cards and gifts into his hands which he quickly passed to two of Crystal's ladies in waiting. Girls grabbed him and kissed him; one even tried to drag him across the crowd barrier. His detail stepped in and he was saved but he felt ridiculous.
One of the protection officers, who Jeff had worked with until recently, made it worse when he said, nearly laughing,
'We've got you sir, not to worry.'
Jeff decided to have him hung, drawn and quartered later. Down the line the crowd began to thin a little where the press had set themselves up to shoot them as they left. Jeff was about to finish and he could see Crystal was nearly at the car when a woman reporter pressed a note into his hand,
'It's important,' she said, looking him in the eye. He looked down at the note and when he lifted his head she was gone. Jeff kept the note as he waved, another new experience for him, and walked back to the car. Inside they both laughed and heaved a sigh of relief.
'What's that?' Crystal asked, 'Fan mail, a girl's phone number?'
He opened it, read the short message and passed it over. Crystal went white as she read it,
'No, it's a tip off,' Jeff said. 'Or so they say.'
During the afternoon the team went to work, following up the information. Angry, Jeff didn't believe it was true but the note said one of the tabloids had a source ready to confess to supplying Crystal with drugs. Crystal was in tears,
'It's so awful for my grandparents. They shouldn't have to deal with this now.'
'Listen to me,' he said, 'this looks like a try on. The only two people who could have talked are in prison and have nothing to gain from telling anyone this. They'll get more time inside if they say anything. There might be money but is it worth it? I'm not sure it is.'
She wiped her wet face with the hankie Jeff gave her,
'I'm frightened Jeff. I know I shouldn't have used drugs but I don't want to be publicly crucified for it.'
'You won't be, if we handle this the right way. I'm going to talk to some people. Have a bath, I'll come back and scrub your back.' He kissed her and she tried to smile. 'Ring for Jessie. Try not to worry.'
Jeff went to Her Majesty's Private Secretary and they had a long talk. The Secretary then knocked on the door to Her Majesty's study and went in. Jeff waited outside, but not for long. Crystal's grandfather came to the door,
'Come in Jeff.' After about half an hour a plan had been made. That evening Crystal and
Jeff would give an interview at the Palace with a trusted reporter who would ask Crystal about being young and smoking pot. It was the American cure-all for scandal: bare your soul and cry a little; but Jeff felt it would be effective and deny the tabloids a fully blown expose. The Palace had to face the problem and deal with it, quickly.
'If we don't they'll run it anyway and we'll look as though we're covering it up. She used a small amount for a short time. The girl who sold it to her is in prison; so is her supplier, they wouldn't talk. The other thing is I'm going to have all the phones checked and have Special Branch check for taps. She could have been hacked and they're covering it up with a phony source.'
'We agree Jeff, but is she up to it?' the Queen asked.
'Yes Ma'am, she is. She's made of strong stuff.'
They understood each other.
Crystal took the knocks when the interviewer went slightly off script and needled her about the level of her remorse but she didn't waver and stuck to what they'd decided to say,
'I'm sorry.' No more, no less.
It was Jeff who controlled the content. When it came to the drugs he stepped in and talked about it from a policing point of view, saying that a small quantity for personal use was not against the law. He said he'd indulged himself, before he joined the force. That stopped a few hearts but they moved on and got through it.
Afterwards he had to give Crystal a glass of wine and a hug, but it was over. She came out of it as a privileged, rather spoiled, silly young woman who'd grown up and got lucky: she'd found herself a wonderful man with plenty of common sense. His maturity, although Jeff was only twenty eight, balanced her youth. The fallout seemed to be minimal and the tabloids lost their scoop.
Many things changed at the Palace after the interview, including the family's personal phone numbers. Staff backgrounds and their current activities were checked again and some interesting things turned up. One butler was earning a lucrative sum playing poker online and losing it just as fast betting on the horses. That was considered his business. A woman working in the laundry was building a collection of royal underwear, specialising in bras but she'd take boxers or knickers that she hoped to auction online. She was encouraged to find other work and did, after returning the underwear.
On the night of the interview Jeff worked late with the protection service on the phone hacking; Crystal lay on her bed, cuddling a warm Archie and Terri, who'd watched it on television.
'You were so brave,' Terri said.
'I didn't feel it,' Crystal said, 'if it hadn't been for Jeff I would have passed out.'
They agreed he was a rock but Archie also said,
'No you wouldn't, you would have done what you always do: you cope. Don't forget we've been with you through lots of things that were worse than this. You never felt sorry for yourself or complained. You might have been young and, forgive me, a bit silly at times, but we never doubted you were strong and brave.'
Crystal was so touched she hugged them even harder,
'Careful,' Archie said, 'you'll split my seams.'
'Sorry,' she said, but she was cheered by their support. She decided to be happy and just deal with things as they came. She couldn't change what the media said or printed and anyway Jeff and the Palace staff were quite capable of dealing with them. She said to Archie and Terri, 'How about a movie?'
'Oh yes please, you choose.' Terri said.
So they went into her sitting room and watched Made of Honour until Jeff came in and took Crystal away to bed.
'He's so manly,' Terri said, hoping for a particular response from Archie, which she got. They spent the rest of the night on the couch which they found very soft.
In the morning Jessie overheard them discussing the possibility of a soft lining for their drawer which she went away and asked the Queen's seamstress, Constance, to make.
'Bliss,' they said on their first night in the padded drawer, 'Utter bliss.'