None of Gerald’s friends would have described him as an extravagant man and even his wife was surprised at the whim of vanity that was to follow. At nine o’clock the next morning Gerald rang his office to say he would not be in to work that day. He then traveled by train to London to visit Bond Street in general and a famed jeweler in particular.
The door of the Bond Street shop was opened for Gerald by a sergeant from the Corps of Commissionaires. Once he had stepped inside Gerald explained his problem to the tall, thin gentleman in a black suit who had come forward to welcome him. He was then led to a circular glass counter in the middle of the shop floor.
‘Our Mr. Pullinger will be with you in a moment,’ he was assured. Moments later Asprey’s fine-gems expert arrived and happily agreed to Gerald’s request to value the Order of the Peacock (Third Class). Mr. Pullinger placed the chain on a black velvet cushion before closely studying the stones through a small eyeglass.
After a cursory glance he frowned with the disappointment of a man who has won third prize at a shooting range on Blackpool pier.
‘So what’s it worth?’ asked Gerald bluntly after several minutes had elapsed.
‘Hard to put a value on something so intricately—’ Pullinger hesitated, ‘unusual.’
‘The stones are glass and the gold’s brass, that’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it, lad?’
Mr. Pullinger gave a look that indicated that he could not have put it more succinctly himself.
‘You might possibly be able to get a few hundred pounds from someone who collects such objects, but...’
‘Oh, no,’ said Gerald, quite offended. ‘I have no interest in selling it. My purpose in coming up to London was to find out if you can copy it.’
‘Copy it?’ said the expert in disbelief.
‘Aye,’ said Gerald. ‘First, I want every stone to be the correct gem according to its color. Second, I expect a setting that would impress a duchess. And third, I require the finest craftsman put to work on it in nothing less than eighteen-carat gold.’
The expert from Asprey’s, despite years of dealing with Arab clients, was unable to conceal his surprise.
‘It would not be cheap,’ he uttered sotto voce: the word ‘cheap’ was one of which Asprey’s so clearly disapproved.
‘I never doubted that for a moment,’ said Gerald. ‘But you must understand that this is a once-in-a-lifetime honor for me. Now when could I hope to have an estimate?’
‘A month, six weeks at the most,’ replied the expert.
Gerald left the plush carpet of Asprey’s for the sewers of Nigeria. When a little over a month later he flew back to London, he traveled in to the West End for his second meeting with Mr. Pullinger.
The jeweler had not forgotten Gerald Haskins and his strange request, and he quickly produced from his order book a neatly folded piece of paper. Gerald unfolded it and read the tender slowly. Requirement for customer’s request: twelve diamonds, seven amethysts, three rubies and a sapphire, all to be of the most perfect color and of the highest quality. A peacock to be sculpted in ivory and painted by a craftsman. The entire chain then to be molded in the finest eighteen-carat gold. The bottom line read: ‘Two hundred and eleven thousand pounds — exclusive of VAT.’
Gerald, who would have thought nothing of haggling over an estimate of a few thousand pounds for roofing material or the hire of heavy equipment, or even a schedule of payments, simply asked, ‘When will I be able to collect it?’
‘One could not be certain how long it might take to put together such a fine piece,’ said Mr. Pullinger. ‘Finding stones of a perfect match and color will, I fear, take a little time.’ He paused. ‘I am also hoping that our senior craftsman will be free to work on this particular commission. He has been rather taken up lately with gifts for the Queen’s forthcoming visit to Saudi Arabia so I don’t think it could be ready before the end of March.’
Still in time for next year’s Mayor’s banquet, thought Gerald. Councillor Ramsbottom would not be able to mock him on this occasion. The Mayor’s chain, fourteen-carat gold, had he said?
Lagos and Rio de Janeiro both had their sewers down and running long before Gerald was able to return to Asprey’s. And he only set his eyes on the unique prize a few weeks before Mayor-making day.
When Mr. Pullinger first showed his client the finished work the Yorkshireman gasped with delight. The Order was so magnificent that Gerald found it necessary to purchase a string of pearls from Asprey’s to ensure a compliant wife.
On his return to Hull he waited until after dinner to open the green leather box from Asprey’s and surprise her with the new Order. ‘Fit for a monarch, lass,’ he assured his wife but Angela seemed preoccupied with her pearls.
After Angela had left to wash up, her husband continued to stare for some time at the beautiful jewels so expertly crafted and superbly cut before he finally closed the box. The next morning he reluctantly took the piece round to the bank and explained that it must be kept safely locked in the vaults as he would only be requiring to take it out once, perhaps twice, a year. He couldn’t resist showing the object of his delight to the bank manager, Mr. Sedgley.
‘You’ll be wearing it for Mayor-making day, no doubt?’ Mr. Sedgley inquired.
‘If I’m invited,’ said Gerald.
‘Oh, I feel sure Ramsbottom will want all his old friends to witness the ceremony. Especially you, I suspect,’ he added without explanation.
Gerald read the news item in the Court Circular of The Times to his wife over breakfast: ‘It has been announced from Buckingham Palace that King Alfons IV of Multavia will make a state visit to Britain between April 7 and 11.’
‘I wonder if we will have an opportunity to meet the King again,’ said Angela.
Gerald offered no opinion.
In fact Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Haskins received two invitations connected with King Alfons’ official visit, one to dine with the King at Claridge’s — Multavia’s London Embassy not being large enough to cater for such an occasion — and the second arriving a day later by special delivery from Buckingham Palace.
Gerald was delighted. The Peacock, it seemed, was going to get three outings in one month, as their visit to the Palace was ten days before Walter Ramsbottom would be installed as Mayor.
The state dinner at Claridge’s was memorable and although there were several hundred other guests present Gerald still managed to catch a moment with his host, King Alfons IV who, he found to his pleasure, could not take his eyes off the Order of the Peacock (Third Class).
The trip to Buckingham Palace a week later was Gerald and Angela’s second, following Gerald’s investiture in 1984 as a Commander of the British Empire. It took Gerald almost as long to dress for the state occasion as it did his wife. He took some time fiddling with his collar to be sure that his CBE could be seen to its full advantage while the Order of the Peacock still rested squarely on his shoulders. Gerald had asked his tailor to sew little loops into his tailcoat so that the Order did not have to be continually readjusted.
When the Haskinses arrived at Buckingham Palace they followed a throng of bemedaled men and tiaraed ladies through to the state dining room where a footman handed out seating cards to each of the guests. Gerald unfolded his to find an arrow pointing to his name. He took his wife by the arm and guided her to their places.
He noticed that Angela’s head kept turning whenever she saw another tiara.
Although they were seated some distance away from Her Majesty at an offshoot of the main table, there was still a minor royal on Gerald’s left and the Minister of Agriculture on his right. He was more than satisfied. In fact the whole evening went far too quickly, and Gerald was already beginning to feel that Mayor-making day would be something of an anticlimax. Nevertheless, Gerald imagined a scene where Councillor Ramsbottom was admiring the Order of the Peacock (Third Class), while he was telling him about the dinner at the Palace.