And Thereby Hangs a Tale Read online

  If Percy had one regret, it was that he hadn’t been able to bring his ginger cat with him. Not that Horatio would have appreciated exchanging his warm kitchen for a cold cave. He had left clear instructions with his housekeeper that she should feed him every morning, and before she left at night.

  Percy had more than enough food and drink to survive for ninety days, and was determined to revisit the Complete Works of Shakespeare, all 37 plays and 154 sonnets, by the time he returned to the mainland.

  By the end of the first month, Percy felt he was well qualified to appear on Desert Island Discs, even though that nice Mr. Plomley was no longer in charge.

  On a more practical level, Percy learned to catch a fish with a sharpened stick. To be accurate, he speared his first fish on the thirty-ninth day, by which time he considered himself a fully domiciled resident.

  On the sixty-third day, he completed digging a five-foot hole at the highest point of the island. One of the problems Percy hadn’t anticipated was that whenever he visited his hole each morning, it would be full of water, as hardly a day went by when it didn’t rain. It took Percy about an hour to scoop out yesterday’s water with his plastic mug before he could start digging again, sometimes longer, if it was still raining. He then roamed the island searching for large stones, which he lugged back and deposited by the side of the hole.

  On the morning of the eighty-ninth day, Percy dragged his pole slowly up to the summit of the island, some 227 feet above sea level, and dumped it unceremoniously by the hole. He then returned to the cave and listened to Woman’s Hour on Radio Four before having lunch. He’d learned a great deal about women during the past three months. He spent the afternoon shining his shoes, washing his shirt, and rehearsing the speech he would deliver on behalf of Her Majesty.

  He retired to bed early, aware that he needed to be at his best for the ceremony he would be performing the following day.

  Percy rose with the sun on September 23, 2009, and ate a light breakfast consisting of a bowl of cornflakes and an apple while he listened to Jim Naughtie discuss with Mr. Cameron whether the three party leaders should take part in a television debate before the election. Percy didn’t care for the idea: not at all British.

  At nine o’clock he shaved, cutting himself in several places, then put on a white shirt, now not quite so white, his three-piece suit, old school tie, and shining black shoes, none of which he’d worn for the past three months.

  When Percy emerged from the cave carrying his radio, he had a pleasant surprise awaiting him on this, the most important day of his life. The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, and what a blue. When he reached the top of his hill, there was not a drop of water in the hole. God clearly was an Englishman.

  He checked his watch: ten twenty-six. Too early to begin proceedings if he intended to keep to the letter of the law. He sat on the ground and recited his favorite speeches from Henry V, while checking his watch every few minutes.

  At eleven o’clock, Percy lifted the flagpole onto his shoulder and lowered one end into the hole. He then spent forty minutes selecting the stones that would secure it firmly in place. Having completed the task he sat down on the ground, exhausted. Once he’d got his breath back he turned on the radio and still had to wait for some time before Big Ben struck twelve times and the sun reached its highest point. At one minute past twelve, Percy stood to attention, slowly raised the Union Jack up the flagpole and delivered the exact words required by the Territories Settlement Act of 1762: “I claim this sovereign territory in the name of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, to whom I swear my allegiance.” He then sang the “National Anthem,” and ended with three rousing cheers.

  The ceremony completed, Percy fell to his knees and thanked God, and all his ancestors, that like them he had been able to serve the British Empire.

  He then picked up his telescope and began to search the high seas for a bobbing fishing vessel. As each hour passed, he became more and more anxious as to where the Bonnie Belle, Captain Campbell, and his three shipmates might be. He feared they were in the Fisherman’s Arms, spending his money.

  Once the sun had set on this part of the British Empire, Percy restricted himself to half-rations before spending a sleepless night wondering if he was destined to spend the rest of his days on Forsdyke Island, having fulfilled his mission, but without anyone realizing what he had achieved.

  He rose early the following morning, skipped breakfast, missed the Today Programme, and climbed back up to the highest point on the island, where he was delighted to see the Union Jack still fluttering in the breeze.

  He picked up his telescope, swung it slowly through 180 degrees, and there she was, plowing determinedly, if slowly, through the waves. Not usually a demonstrative man, Percy leaped up and down, shouting with joy. He ran back to his cave, packed his overnight bag with all the evidence he needed to support his claim, then made his way down to the beach. He left everything else in the cave, including his trunk, in case anyone should require more proof that he really had been a resident for ninety days.

  Percy waited patiently on the beach, but it was another three hours before the little dinghy came ashore to collect the unappointed ambassador who wished to be transported back to the mainland, having served his tour of duty.

  Captain Campbell showed no interest in why Mr. Forsdyke had wished to spend ninety-one days on a deserted island, and left him in his cabin to rest. Although Percy was just as sick on the voyage back to Wick as he had been on the way to Forsdyke Island, his heart was full of joy.

  Once the captain, the three crew members, and their passenger had disembarked from the Bonnie Belle they all went to the nearest bank, where Percy withdrew eight hundred pounds. But he didn’t hand over the cash until Captain Campbell and his first mate had signed a one-page document confirming that they had taken him to Forsdyke Island on June 25, 2009, and hadn’t picked him up again until September 24, 2009, when they had accompanied him back to the mainland. The local bank manager witnessed both signatures.

  A taxi took Percy to Wick station, from where he began the slow journey back along the coast to Inverness before boarding the overnight train to London. He found his first-class bunk bed uncomfortable, while the clattering wheels kept him awake most of the night, and the fish served for breakfast had unquestionably left the North Sea some days before he had. He arrived at Euston more tired and hungry than he’d been for the past three months, and then had to hang about in a long taxi queue before he was driven back to his home in Pimlico.

  Once he’d let himself in he went straight to his study, unlocked the center drawer of his desk, and retrieved the unsealed envelope containing his detailed memorandum and the copy of the 1762 Territories Settlement Act. He placed Captain Campbell’s sworn affidavit in the envelope along with two maps and a diary, then sealed the envelope and wrote on the front, in capital letters, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.

  Despite his impatience to fulfill his dream, Percy didn’t leave the house until he’d checked that his one-eyed, three-legged cat was sound asleep on the kitchen boiler. “I did it, Horatio, I did it,” whispered Percy as he left the kitchen. Once he’d locked the front door, he hailed a passing taxi.

  “The Foreign Office,” said Percy as he climbed into the back seat.

  When the taxi drew up outside the King Charles Street entrance, Percy said, “Please wait, cabbie, I’ll only be a minute.”

  The security guard at the FCO was about to prevent the disheveled tramp from entering the building when he realized it was Mr. Forsdyke.

  “Please deliver this to Sir Nigel Henderson immediately,” said Percy, handing over the bulky envelope.

  “Yes, Mr. Forsdyke,” said the duty clerk, giving him a salute.

  Percy sat in the cab on the way back home chanting the “Nunc Dimittis.”

  The first thing Percy did on returning to Pimlico was to feed the cat. He then fed himself and watched the early evening news on television. It was too early for any announcement abo