After a ten-minute session for the photographers on the steps of the church, the Rolls Royce carried the newly married couple back to the Metcalfes’ house in Lincoln. Harvey and the Countess of Louth took the second car, and the Earl and Arlene, Anne’s mother, took the third. Stephen, Robin and Jean-Pierre followed some twenty minutes later, still arguing the pros and cons of bearding the lion in his own den.
Harvey Metcalfe’s Georgian house was magnificent, with an oriental garden leading down to a lake, great beds of roses and in the conservatory his pride and joy, his collection of rare orchids.
‘I never thought I’d see this,’ said Jean-Pierre.
‘Nor me,’ said Robin, ‘and now that I have, I’m not too happy.’
‘Let’s run the gauntlet,’ said Stephen. ‘I suggest that we join the receiving line at well-separated intervals. I’ll go first. Robin, you come second, at least twenty places behind, and Jean-Pierre, you come third, at least twenty places behind Robin, and act naturally. We’re just friends of James’s from England. Now, when you take your places in the queue, listen to the conversation. Try and find someone who’s a close friend of Harvey’s and jump immediately in front of them. When it comes to your turn to shake hands, Harvey’s eyes will already be on the next person because he won’t know you and will want to talk to them. That way we should escape.’
‘Brilliant, Professor,’ said Jean-Pierre.
The queue seemed interminably long. A thousand people shuffled past the outstretched hands of Mr and Mrs Metcalfe, the Earl and Countess of Louth, and Anne and James. Stephen eventually made it and passed with flying colors.
‘So glad you could come,’ said Anne.
Stephen did not reply.
‘Good to see you, Stephen.’
‘We all admire your plan, James.’
Stephen slipped into the main ballroom and hid behind a pillar on the other side of the room, as far as he could be from the multi-story wedding cake in the center.
Robin was next and avoided looking Harvey in the eyes.
‘How kind of you to come all this way,’ said Anne.
Robin mumbled something under his breath.
‘Hope you’ve enjoyed yourself today, Robin?’
James was obviously having the time of his life. After being put through it in the same way by Anne, he was relishing the Team’s discomfiture.
‘You’re a bastard, James.’
‘Not too loud, old fellow. My mother and father might hear you.’
Robin slipped through to the ballroom and, after a search behind all the pillars, found Stephen.
‘Did you get through all right?’
‘I think so, but I don’t want to see him ever again. What time is the plane back?’
‘8 pm Now don’t panic. Keep your eye out for Jean-Pierre.’
‘Bloody good thing he kept his beard,’ said Robin.
Jean-Pierre shook hands with Harvey, who was already intent on the next guest as Jean-Pierre had, by shameless queue-barging, managed to secure a place in front of a Boston banker who was obviously a close friend of Harvey’s.
‘Good to see you, Marvin.’
Jean-Pierre had escaped. He kissed Anne on both cheeks, whispered in her ear, ‘Game, set and match to James,’ and went off in search of Stephen and Robin. He forgot his original instructions when he found himself face to face with the chief bridesmaid.
‘Did you enjoy the wedding?’ she asked.
‘Of course. I always judge weddings by the bridesmaids, not the bride.’
She blushed with pleasure.
‘This must have cost a fortune,’ she continued.
‘Yes, my dear, and I know whose,’ said Jean-Pierre, slipping his arm around her waist.
Four hands grabbed a protesting Jean-Pierre and unceremoniously dragged him behind the pillar.
‘For God’s sake, Jean-Pierre. She’s not a day over seventeen. We don’t want to go to jail for rape of a juvenile as well as theft. Drink this and behave yourself.’ Robin thrust a glass of champagne into his hand.
The champagne flowed and even Stephen had a little too much. They were all clinging to their pillar for support by the time the toastmaster called for silence.
‘My lords, ladies and gentlemen. Pray silence for the Viscount Brigsley, the bridegroom.’
James made an impressive speech. The actor in him took over and the Americans adored it. Even his father had a look of admiration on his face. The toastmaster then introduced Harvey, who spoke long and loud. He cracked his favorite joke about marrying off his daughter to Prince Charles, at which the assembled guests roared heartily as they always do at weddings, even for the weakest joke. He ended by calling the toast for the bride and groom.
When the applause had died down, and the hubbub of chatter had struck up again, Harvey took an envelope from his pocket and kissed his daughter on the cheek.
‘Rosalie, here’s a little wedding present for you, to make up for letting me keep the Van Gogh. I know you’ll put it to good use.’
Harvey passed her the white envelope. Inside there was a check for $250,000. Anne kissed her father with genuine affection.
‘Thank you, Daddy, I promise you James and I will use it wisely.’
She hurried off in pursuit of James, whom she found besieged by a group of American matrons:
‘Is it true you’re related to the Queen...?’
‘I never met a real live lord...’
‘I do hope you’ll invite us over to see your castle...?’
‘There are no castles in the King’s Road,’ said James, relieved to be rescued by Anne.
‘Darling, can you spare me a minute?’
James excused himself and followed Anne, but they found it almost impossible to escape the crowd.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘Quickly.’
James took the check.
‘Good God — $250,000.’
‘You know what I’m going to do with it, don’t you?’
‘Yes, darling.’
Anne hunted for Stephen, Robin and Jean-Pierre, which was not an easy task as they were still hidden behind a pillar in the far corner. She was eventually guided to the spot by the subdued but spirited rendering of ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire?’ issuing from behind it.
‘Can you lend me a pen, Stephen?’
Three pens shot out for her use.
She took the check from the middle of her bouquet and wrote on its back, ‘Rosalie Brigsley — pay Stephen Bradley.’ She handed it to him.
‘Yours, I believe.’
The three of them stared at the check. She was gone before they could even comment.
‘What a girl our James has gone and married,’ said Jean-Pierre.
‘You’re drunk, you frog,’ said Robin.
‘How dare you, sir, suggest that a Frenchman could get drunk on champagne. I demand satisfaction. Choose your weapons.’
‘Champagne corks.’
‘Quiet,’ said Stephen. ‘You’ll give yourselves away.’
‘Well now, tell me, Professor, what’s the latest financial position?’
‘I’m just working it out now,’ said Stephen.
‘What?’ said Robin and Jean-Pierre together, but they were too happy to argue.
‘He still owes us $101 and 24 cents.’
‘Disgraceful,’ said Jean-Pierre. ‘Burn the place down.’
Anne and James left to change, while Stephen, Robin and Jean-Pierre forced down some more champagne. The toastmaster announced that the bride and groom would be leaving in approximately fifteen minutes and requested the guests to gather in the main hall and courtyard.
‘Come on, we must watch them go,’ said Stephen. The drink had given them new confidence and they took their places near the car.
It was Stephen who heard Harvey say, ‘God damn it. Do I have to think of everything?’ and watched him look around his guests until his eyes fell on the trio. Stephen’s legs turned to jelly as Harvey’s finger beckoned him.