The Lords' Day (retail) (43 page)

The Royal Family went through one of their occasional bursts of popularity. The Queen was raised almost to sainthood, while Charles’s offer to take the place of the other two sons was seen
as being the dotty act of an evermore eccentric man, but one who was now admired for his peculiarities rather than reviled. The period of royal popularity proved to be prolonged.

President Edwards ran for re-election and won. Robert T. Paine was buried with full honours, his suicide the result, it was claimed, of the unbearable stress brought on by his heroic defiance of
the terrorists.

Harry got himself both a George Cross, the highest civilian award for gallantry, and a divorce. The new Prime Minister offered him a Cabinet post, but he declined. The speculation was that he
was too busy spending time with outrageously unsuitable women.

Hastie and Tibbetts also got medals and promotions, but despite a whole paragraph in the Royal Commission’s report praising his dedication, Daniel never got his parking space. They might
change the world but, it seemed, never the BBC.

Statues to Archie and Celia were placed either side of Pugin’s entrance to the House of Lords, just as statues of Churchill and Lloyd George guarded the entrance to the chamber of the
House of Commons. The day after the siege, a national newspaper began a campaign suggesting that the two of them should be buried together. Celia’s family gave their enthusiastic approval,
but despite several days of searching for relatives, no one could be found to speak for Archie. So they were interred side by side in Westminster Abbey. The Queen, President Edwards, and several
hundred thousand ordinary people attended. They closed down the centre of London for that, too.

T
HE INSPIRATION FOR THIS
book began with a visit I made many years ago to the House of Lords. It was a private tour, and I
was fascinated with the architectural glories of the place. But one anomaly stood out. As I stood amidst all the sumptuous detail I noticed a well-hidden door, one of two set into the gilded canopy
behind the throne. I assumed these doors guarded deep secrets, but when I was given permission to look, I discovered secrets of an entirely unexpected kind. By now you will know what I stumbled
upon, but the discovery tickled my sense of humour. I decided that one day I would write a story set around those two cupboard doors.
The Lords’ Day
.

Yet, there has been a darker side to this work. In the wider research for it I uncovered what I thought were alarming lapses in security around the State Opening, and since I was working solely
from public sources the potential consequences of this worried me. We live in disturbing times and the laws of terrorism aren’t suspended simply because the British are having a bit of a
royal jamboree.

So, many months before its publication, I wrote to the Home Secretary to warn her of what I thought I had discovered. Naively I expected a prompt response, yet nothing happened, not even an
acknowledgement, so I wrote to others who have responsibility for these security matters. At the time this caused a considerable fluttering in the dovecotes at Westminster. It was suggested that
the book was irresponsible, that there were literally dozens of security breaches in the book, which to my mind rather missed the point. All these so-called breaches were in the public domain, and
if I was able to discover that walking into the State Opening was easier than getting on to a domestic flight at Gatwick, so could others who had much darker intentions than me. If the Home
Secretary chose to ignore my warnings, what else was I supposed to do?

It has all turned out for the best. The changes required to the security of the ceremony have been or are in the process of being made. Future State Openings will go ahead with a much greater
degree of safety and without any lessening of the fun. The book has, I hope, done its job and will now remain what it was always intended to be, a work of fiction.

Yet, as a result of the controversy, there are many who have helped me with this book who are still serving in and around Westminster who may not wish to be counted publicly. They know who they
are; I am deeply in their debt. However, one man I can include is Major Peter Horsfall. After his retirement from an illustrious career in the Coldstream Guards spanning thirty-four years, Peter
became the Staff Superintendent in the House of Lords, where he assumed the awesome responsibility for keeping the place running smoothly. This he did with huge success and humour. He and his
delightful wife, Mary, were my hosts that evening many years ago when I first discovered those two doors. Mary is no longer with us, but Peter remains a staunch friend. He has known nothing about
the writing of this book – I suspect he might be horrified that anyone would want to do harm to an institution he loved and served so loyally – but I hope he will accept my thanks for a
friendship that I have found inspiring in many ways.

I have also leaned on other former members of the British armed forces. The character of Harry Jones was largely stirred by my old friend, Ian Patterson, who has helped with many books, but none
more than this. His friend (and mine), David Foster, has also been extremely supportive, and I owe a considerable debt to Justin Priestley, who was introduced to me by my cousin, Peter Dobbs. If on
the military side I have got any of the technical bits wrong, is it simply because I am not bright enough to follow the sharp minds of these extraordinarily resourceful, retired officers.

Another former Army officer who has unwittingly helped is Colonel Tim Collins. I have plundered the glorious yet perceptive words he gave to his men on the eve of their action in Iraq to inspire
one of Harry’s own speeches.

Fellow graduates from the Fletcher School of Law & Diplomacy have shown their friendship and support in all sorts of ways. The name of Andrei Vandoros appears frequently in my roll calls of
thanks, and once again he has been the best of supporters, introducing me to Andrew Popper who guided me through many of the financial bits. Mian Zaheen is another Fletcher classmate who has been
splendid in trying to make me understand the extraordinarily complex nature of the Afghan-Pakistan frontier region, as has been his exceptionally graceful wife, Adi, and her mother, Mamoona
Taskinud-Din. Rear Admiral Jim Stark, a retired senior US Navy officer and yet another Fletcher friend and graduate, also threw himself into the ring on my behalf, and brought with him other former
senior colleagues from the US military, Captain Bill Cameron, Rear Admiral Phil Anselmo and Major Ed Dogwillo. With their help I hope I have been able to describe the flight from Diego Garcia to
Afghanistan with reasonable accuracy.

As for information about Diego Garcia itself, I am deeply indebted to another former US military man, Ted A. Morris Jr., a self-styled Yankee Air Pirate (retired) and President of the
People’s Provisional Democratic Republic of Diego Garcia. He now lives in New Mexico (a state governed by yet another Fletcher graduate, Bill Richardson). New Mexico is a long way to go to
take up Ted’s offer of a cold beer, but at some stage in my life, I intend to make the trip.

Daniel Brittain-Catlin helped me to speculate about what might happen to the BBC’s parliamentary affairs producer throughout such a crisis, and he should know, for he has been the man
himself. I am indebted to his enthusiasm and sense of mischief.

Many others deserve my thanks for their unstinting enthusiasm, such as Jane Chalmers, Dilwyn Griffiths and Colonel Cliff Walters of the Royal Signals. I hope I have been able to do justice to
their expertise.

Inevitably I have taken dramatic liberties with some details – for instance, the role taken by Mike Tibbetts would almost certainly be split between two officers. Moreover, the State
Opening is
never
held on the 5th of November. The ghost of Guy Fawkes is still at large. There are many other such instances for which I hope my friends and informants will forgive me.

Finally, I’m delighted that we have been able to raise a very substantial sum of money for charity through the new book. I was speaking at a fundraising dinner last Christmas for the
benefit of Students’ Partnership Worldwide (www.spw.org) and ZAMCOG, charities that undertake educational work in the developing world, when a wonderful lady named Linda Harrison Edwards
asked if she could help. Linda is a direct descendant of the two President Harrisons, and I was just about to embark upon sketching out the character of my fictional President. So, in recognition
of her very generous support for the charities, I have named my character after her daughter, Blythe. That is the only reason why I have made my President a woman. I am not in the business of
gambling on election results.

Michael Dobbs,

Wylye.

www.michaeldobbs.com