Christmas with the Queen

Chapter 32 Jack

Chapter 32

Jack

C hristmas came swiftly once the queen and her entourage—Olive included—had disembarked for their planned events and festivities in Auckland. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Olive yet. Her surprise visit had been a real treat, a breath of fresh air. She’d seemed to enjoy herself, too. She had a carefree way about her away from home and out on the water, and I couldn’t help but see the young woman I’d first met on VE Day. Truth be told, I’d have liked her to stay with us for the rest of the tour, but she had her daughter to get home to. It was clear from the way she spoke about Lucy, that she was the most important thing of all.

I wondered, sometimes, what it would be like to be a parent, how that intense connection of love and responsibility changed a person. I’d witnessed it in my friends, and in Andrea’s family. I’d never seen myself as a father until Andrea’s longing to be a mother had consumed our lives. Now, I couldn’t imagine the privilege would ever be mine.

We celebrated Christmas in our own way on the ship. The crew enjoyed the favorite traditional English dishes that Max, Mason, and I prepared along with the rest of the kitchen staff. We piled our plates with turkey, roast potatoes, braised carrots, and plenty of gravy, then rounded off the meal with a platter of local fresh fruits. When we’d finished, we poured coffees and took a brandy each to accompany our Christmas pudding.

“To our good health, first and foremost,” Max said as we raised our glasses for a toast.

“Here, here,” we replied and drank.

“To new frontiers and sunny horizons,” Mason added.

I held my glass aloft. “To good friends. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“To good friends!” we all repeated and clinked our glasses together.

We drank and ate, groaning over our full stomachs, telling jokes and tall tales and laughing until our cheeks hurt. When we began to clear the plates, Mason cornered me.

“So?”

“So... what?”

“It was nice to meet Olive,” he said, his face playful and teasing. “I’d heard a little about her from Ryan, but that was a long time ago now. She fit right in with us.”

“She sure did,” I replied, thinking again of her contagious laugh and her bright smile.

“She’s rather pretty, too.”

“She’s a friend,” I replied. “That’s all.”

“I know, I know.” Mason waved his hand dismissively. “Just a friend. But one day, maybe more than a friend?”

I was about to reply that I didn’t deal in maybes and was happy to take things day by day, when one of the crew stepped into the galley. “It’s time!”

We set aside the rest of the dirty dishes for a moment and gathered around the wireless to listen to the queen’s Christmas broadcast. One of the crew turned up the volume as we caught the end of the announcer’s introduction.

“ This Christmas, we celebrate with Her Majesty and His Royal Highness from the South Pacific. Summer skies and New Zealanders have welcomed their monarch with joy and exuberance. It has been a truly memorable coronation year for Her Majesty, and we look forward to all that her reign will bring in the new year, and beyond. Happy Christmas to all our listeners around the world, from all of us at the BBC World Service. ”

We all stood as the national anthem was played and a rousing chorus of “God Save the Queen” rang around the ship. It had been a memorable year. In fact, I couldn’t believe how far I’d come, and how much had changed over the last twelve months. I had met new friends and reconnected with old, my cookbook was in the making, and I was doing a job I enjoyed. I also had the spark of an idea for a potential partnership with Mason, when and if the timing was ever right. I still thought of Andrea every day, but the sadness was gentler now, and bright tendrils of hope wound through me along with the Christmas wine.

It was late when a handful of household staff returned to the ship, while the others remained at Government House with the queen and the duke. I was surprised when an equerry handed me an envelope. Inside was a single page of writing paper from a hotel in Auckland, and on it, a short message:

Dear Jack,

It was such a pleasant surprise to see you—again! It seems that we are destined to bump into each other once a year, at Christmas time. But if you were serious about meeting again when you’re back in London next summer, then I would love to hear from you. I’ve written my home address at the bottom of this note. Perhaps you could send a postcard or two in the meantime as you sail around the world, just so that I know you haven’t fallen overboard!

Keep cooking, chef. I look forward to trying more of your recipes.

Until then, happy Christmas.

Your friend,

Olive

X

PS I didn’t really like the gumbo. I was just being polite!

I laughed aloud, and in that moment, I realized that I was already looking forward to seeing her again. As the cheerful banter of the others swirled around me, I promised myself that I would definitely call by her house or send her a note, as soon as I was in London again.

I smiled as I reread Olive’s note, folded it, and joined in the merriment as we sang our way—badly—through a list of Christmas carols to end an almost-perfect Christmas Day.