by Earl Nelson
Princess Caroline thanked me for my hospitality and took her mother's hand and left. Less than a minute later a beefy looking guy in a suit and tie set down next to me.
“That was nice of you to look out for the children. May I ask your name?”
“Sir Richard Jackson. I’m here at the invitation of the band for their setup.”
“I thought it might be something like that. Thank you for being cooperative.”
I didn’t give it another thought, but the telephone must have been ringing off the hook. The band finished up and we were back in the hotel within the hour.
Waiting at the front desk was an invitation to the Prince’s Palace to a performance by the Beatles this evening.
The dress was a sports coat and tie, very informal. My packing the same turned out to be genius. Well, lucky, anyway.
The boys were up and having a late lunch in the restaurant so I joined them as I hadn’t anything since breakfast.
They wanted to know if I wanted to go to L’Oxford with them this evening. I told them I had another engagement so couldn’t join them.
They wanted to know who she was so I told them it was a young lady named Caroline. They fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I couldn’t wait until the trip home.
Chapter 8
I had to take a cab separately to the Palace for the performance because the band wanted to double-check the setup. One thing I admired about them was their work ethic. To many, they appeared to be a classic drugged-out group but nothing could have been further from the truth.
When they partied it was hard, but when they worked they were professional.
My invitation got me into the Palace with no problem. I had to wait a few minutes as enough guests assembled.
I was really glad I had packed a sport coat and tie, I fit right in.
Five minutes before the concert the royal family walked in. They were dressed like the rest of us, except for Princess Caroline. She had on a ‘Feed the Puppies,’ T-shirt.
I was on an end seat in the aisle so she walked right by me.
I said, “I love your T-shirt.”
“This is part of the Mary Jackson collection. She is the absolute best.”
“I think so too.”
Her Mum was standing right there and made a sound of disagreement.
“What’s wrong with the Mary Jackson Collection?”
“The clothes are very nice and well made, but they are not what a young Princess would wear on many an occasion. But if it isn’t from Mary Jackson, Caroline won’t wear it.”
“What types of clothes aren’t in her collection?”
“What a young lady would wear on a formal occasion.”
“Hmm, I’ll talk to her about that.”
A wide-eyed Caroline who had been listening to the exchange asked, “You know Mary Jackson?”
“She is my little sister.”
About this time the band was ready to start so they moved on, but I knew that I would be hearing more on the subject.
As soon as the band had finished for the night a four, almost five years old came running up to me.
“Are you her big brother?”
“Yes, I am.”
“She is the neatest! I love her ads on ‘Feed the Puppies.’ Her clothes are the bestest.”
“I will tell her that.”
Princess Grace caught up with her child.
“Your Majesty, I have had a thought that I would like to discuss with you.”
“What is that?”
“Maybe Mary needs a Princess Collection. To do that she would need some royal motherly advice.”
“I would be glad to comment if it would get Caroline into proper clothes. However, I cannot commercially endorse anything.”
“You wouldn’t have to. In my experience, that sort of thing comes out anyway and is all the better for being a ‘discovered’ secret. I also know another Princess that loves Mary’s clothes.”
“Who would that be?”
“It would be Princess Anne of England.”
“I’ll ring up Elizabeth and we will see what we can do.”
“I will let Mary know the opportunity. She can talk to her clothing company to see if they would be interested. I don’t see it as a high volume line, but more for the prestige.”
“I think you will be surprised about how many young ladies would love to wear clothes that Princesses wear.”
“I will call Mary tonight as it won’t be her bedtime when I get back to the hotel. Thank you for inviting me for the evening, I have enjoyed it very much.”
About that time Princess Caroline asked for my autograph. I pulled out one of my publicity pictures and signed it, Sir Richard Jackson, Mary’s big brother to her fan Princess Caroline.”
I knew who got top billing on this one.
Returning to the hotel I called the US. It was midnight here and three in the afternoon there. I told Mary where I had been and who I had met.
Being the little business shark she is, she immediately started to talk about the possibilities. I gave her Princess Grace's number and told her I was now out of it.
She thanked me then asked how much of a commission I expected. I pretended I was wounded that she thought her big brother would charge her for help.
I had forgotten that Mary was only six. She immediately started to cry. At first, I thought she was faking it, then realized I had upset her.
About that time Mum stepped in and I had to explain myself. I received a lecture on the tender sensibilities of young ladies. She also thought the Princess Collection was a wonderful idea and would make certain that Mary followed through.
Knowing the shark as I did I wasn’t concerned about her following through. I still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t faking the whole thing. I know the upshot was that there was no more talk of a commission. Dang! I wanted a new car cover for the Aston-Martin.
I was asleep less than an hour when the phone rang. My good buddies needed bailing out of jail.
It appears after a night of drinking they decided to get some souvenirs from Monaco. They thought a license plate would be nice. They were rare as there weren’t that many cars in Monaco.
There had been so many stolen over the years that they didn’t use the normal method of attaching the plate with screws. They mounted them with pop rivets.
My good buddies didn’t know that, so messed around making enough of a racket the police were called. They were now in custody.
They needed someone to come down and post bail for them or they would be stuck in jail until Monday morning.
I gave serious thought to letting them sit but realized that they would have no way to get home, and they didn’t need to miss Monday's classes.
A taxi dropped me off at the station. I requested the driver wait while I bailed my friends out. The desk sergeant or whatever his title was had questions for me. Like was I with them and got away?
“No Sir, I wasn’t with them this evening.”
“Where were you?”
“At the Palace attending a band performance.”
He took the time to call the Palace Security to confirm my story. He also wanted to look at my identification. My diplomatic passport settled the issue. I was allowed to post bail.
Steve, Tom, and Bill were brought out. What a sad looking group. I hustled them into the waiting cab and got them back to the hotel.
I wasn’t the happiest person in the world right then so at four in the morning I told them to be packed and ready to go to the airport for the trip home. No one argued.
They were sitting in the lobby when I came down at nine o’clock. I had my sleep out. Did I mention that I wasn’t happy with them?
There were no complaints. They knew they had screwed up. I walked over to the concierge's desk and paid for a package they had waiting for me.
Returning to my chums I opened it and gave each of them a coveted license plate cover that
had been purchased this morning at a local shop.
We then started for the airport. We had to delay leaving the hotel as Bill had to make an urgent trip to the WC to throw up.
They wouldn’t forget last night for a while. At the airport, among my preflight items, I double-checked that we had a dozen air sickness bags on board.
They were needed before we got back to England. It seemed that we had to go through every bumpy cloud along the way. Did I mention I wasn’t happy?
As they dropped me off at my garage they all apologized. I accepted the apology but told them they still had to pay me back the bail money.
It was only like twenty-five dollars American so they could afford it. It was very much the principle of the thing.
Heads hung low, they promised. I then asked a question that I had wondered about on the trip but didn’t ask as I wasn’t speaking to them.
“Did you have a good time at L’Oxford?”
This livened them up as they assured me they had a wonderful time. I was asked about my evening and told them it turned out to be a business deal for my little sister.
They looked bewildered and nodded at that but they didn’t follow up.
I drove home to The Meadows and took a nap. After lunch, I called the US and talked to Dad. He told me that they would be contacting me for Mary's company, meeting Nina and the other new models early Monday as a trip to Switzerland in two weeks was being put together.
The trip was a combination of business meeting models and putting together the Princess Collection with some professional Princess advice.
I was invited as I was the one person who knew all the major players. It promised to be an interesting meeting.
Chapter 9
The school week was a normal boring week. The highlight was when my friends came to apologize and repay their bail money. I let them off easy. No Way! I lectured them until Tom poured a pint over my head. All was well in our world.
I skipped classes Friday and headed out to Switzerland.
Friday afternoon I landed at Flughafen Zuerich. Mary and company were already there. I knew it as I taxied in. There was a DC 8 parked there with huge letters, ‘Feed the Puppies,’ on its side.
I caught a cab to the hotel we were all using. As I walked into the front door I was attacked by a wonderful armful of Nina.
She had me checked in so we headed right for my suite. After our reunion, she helped me unpack. After that, we headed down for dinner in a private dining room. Mary, Mum, and about thirty other people were already there.
Family hugs all around. We were barely settled when in walked Princesses Grace and Caroline accompanied by their entourage.
We went through all the greetings only to have Queen Elizabeth and Princess Anne walk in. It was quite a crowd.
Again it took about fifteen minutes for all the greetings to occur. The new people I met were the President and some of the staff of Mary Jackson Clothing. The original company had changed their name since Mary’s collection was by far the mainstay of their business.
Numerous introductions passed right by me, photographers, business agents, marketing people, and many others. They were the working portion of this whole clothing business.
Nina was also accompanied by five young ladies who would help model the collection.
I noticed that Princess Caroline and Mary had hit it off at once. The odd one out was Princess Anne, as she was eleven or twelve and didn’t fit with the younger girls.
I nudged Nina and quietly pointed this out. She immediately brought Anne into the circle of older girls. From her face, this was the right thing to do.
It was almost amusing to watch the dynamics of the girls surrounding Nina. She was the social influencer that they now looked up to. I was happy for her.
I just hoped she didn’t get a swelled head. Of course, I could always burst that bubble. All I had to do was remind her of a bra lost one-night parking in Hollywood.
It had her name embroidered in it and she was scared that someone might find it. I had trashed it ages ago but it was still fun to bring it up occasionally.
All I had to say was, “I wonder what happened…”
The meal was fun with all the talk around the table. It was such a mixed group. Imagine two very young girls seriously discussing the plight of puppies in war-torn Africa, next to a gay photographer discussing the cost of perfumes with the Queen of England.
You could tell the Queen had no idea what he was talking about. I knew that she had her fragrance made and reserved only for her. This would be ordered by the Palace and she would have no idea of the cost. Still, she was polite. Comes with the territory I suppose.
As dessert was being served a man burst into the room holding a camera and snapping pictures like crazy. Security people who had been discreetly standing at the sides of the room had him in hand, film out of the camera, and out of the room in a flash. Ah, the life of a papa-rats-eye.
After dinner, everyone split up to go to their rooms. I had the ridiculous hope that Nina would be able to go to mine. One look from Mum had Nina and me say good night before she returned to her dorm.
“Rick, I’m not ready to be a Grand Mum yet.”
“Yes, Mum.”
What else could I say?
The next morning the groups had a buffet breakfast and then split up into their working teams. There were three basic groups, those taking pictures for the older girls' collection, that being Nina and her friends. Then the Princess group, the Royals, Mary, and several designers. Finally, the business team from the dress company trying to put all of this together.
About the only one with nothing to do was me. I had made the original introductions and now was at loose ends.
I went back to my suite and went over the lecture notes of those classes I had missed in the last week. It seemed almost a bother to attend class anymore. I had given up on a degree, though I supposed it would happen. I was now learning for the sake of learning.
It would be business classes for my future and other stuff for the fun of it. Because of this, none of my classes seemed a chore. I could dig into each one as deep as I wanted.
I went down for lunch but found it to be an empty room. The various groups either were having working lunches or skipping it altogether. The only one I saw was the gay photographer from last night, and I had no desire to talk about perfume prices.
I heard a bit of a commotion out front of the hotel so I went out to see what was going on. A fashion shoot had been set up with Nina and her friends.
The police had set up barricades around them to keep back the watching crowds. I found a good spot next to the hotel entrance to view the proceedings.
A guy next to me said, “So, the Ricky Jackson Circus is in town.”
When I got a good look at him I realized he was with the press.
“No, this is the Mary Jackson Extravaganza, never to be confused with a Rick Jackson Circus. Notice, this is grace and beauty. If it were my production it would be brash and over the top.”
“May I quote you on that?”
“Please do.”
“I see what you mean about grace and beauty. I didn’t realize you meant Grace and beauty.”
Princess Grace had chosen that moment to step out of the hotel to look at the modeling.
I had to chuckle at the fortunate timing.
“Yes, and I suppose I should have added Her Majesty.”
“I thought the Princess was referred to as ‘Your Grace.”
“She is, a wonderful play on words, I was talking about Her Majesty,” as Elizabeth and my Mum joined Grace.
They were almost the same age and looked to be as thick as thieves. I hated to think about what they might dream up for me.
It didn’t take long as I was summoned by Her Highness, Mum.
“Rick, the girls need a male to play off of. I’ll have your clothes brought down so you can change outfits as needed.”
> I boldly stated, “Mum I only brought a few casual clothes for the weekend.”
Well, it came out more like a squeak.
“You are so predictable. I had Mr. Hamilton ship your wardrobe that is being prepared for your chartered airplane. That is a very good idea by the way.”
Cornered like a rat, I whined and whinged but knew I was lost.
I hadn’t noticed it but the girls would change outfits in a luggage closet right at the entrance. I wondered where I would change. I found out quickly.
The clothes racks were pushed into a small square and I was expected to change there. Any modesty I may have had was lost that afternoon.
I hated every minute of it. I would never want to do this for a living. It would take a stupid boy to do so.
Like all things, this came to an end. I had to use all my acting skills to keep a smile but I managed. Nina and her friends were over the moon about the day.
From what I could make out, half the people in the crowd were from their school eating their hearts out, the beauties because they weren’t having their picture taken, the snobs because they couldn’t hobnob with a Queen and Princesses.
I did get a chance to talk to Mary. I asked her what she liked most about the day.
“Caroline and I got to sneak off and take a nap.”
I was glad to see her priorities were in the right place.
Mum told me that the Princess Collection was going to be real. The Royals all thought it would be fun. They were even going to model some of the clothes. Their portion of the profits would go to ‘Feed the Puppies.’
I tried to picture the Queen in a ‘Feed the Puppies,’ T-shirt and it didn’t work. As far as I know, she never wore one, even though she loved her Corgi’s.
Chapter 10
From everyone’s point of view, the weekend was a rousing success.
The Royal mothers had their daughter's clothing under control. It would also put them up in the Royal snobbery sweepstakes as the guiding force behind the clothing all self-respecting princesses would now wear.