Nautical DelightsPrologue
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Nautical DelightsChapter 15: Summons free porn video
When the letter arrived at the offices of Parker, Wilkinson and Partners, Solicitors, in Oxford it caused something of a stir. It had been posted in Kobekistan and read:
To Thomas Parker-Wilkinson, Esq.,
Senior Partner,
Parker, Wilkinson and Partners,
Sir,
I have need of legal representation in the city of Oxford and have been recommended to your good self. Please telephone the above number, make yourself known and ask to speak to me.
It was signed, apparently, by His Magnificence, the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah of Kobekistan, and the simplest of inquiries established that the telephone number quoted was that of the Kobekistani Embassy in London.
Having discussed with his junior partner, and with his wife the pros and cons of making the telephone call, Thomas Parker-Wilkinson decided that if it were a joke, it was an expensive one, and that he had little to lose by complying. The Embassy switchboard operator would be the only one who would know of his embarrassment when, as he fully expected they would, they refused to connect him. Thus it was that he dialled the number on the letter at nine thirty one morning.
"The Embassy of the Emirate of Kobekistan. How may I help you?" said a voice with only a trace of an accent.
"My name is Thomas Parker-Wilkinson and I was asked to telephone the Emir."
"Of course, sir; one moment please."
The line went silent for a few seconds only, then a pleasant, but unmistakably English young male voice said, "Thank you for ringing, Mr. Parker-Wilkinson, how soon could you come here to see me?"
"Who is that?" asked Thomas, now very suspicious.
"I am known here as His Magnificence, the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah, but in England I was called David Ransome. You are undoubtedly thinking that this is some undergraduate joke. Speak to Dr. Alan Jones at the University and ask him what happened to David Ransome, then telephone the Embassy again and we will take it from there."
The line went dead and Thomas leant back and thought, hard.
A few enquiries established that Dr. Alan Jones was Reader in Topology, a fairly senior post at the University. A telephone call to him established beyond doubt the authenticity of "David Ransome" as the Emir of Kobekistan and so a further call was made to the Embassy in London in an attempt to arrange a visit to the Emir, whom Thomas assumed to be in London.
He was staggered to discover that he was expected to fly to Kobekistan for the meeting and that he was to do so in a somewhat clandestine fashion. He was to bring his wife and baby daughter with him and the meeting would be on the Emir's private yacht, the Imperial Voyager. All expenses would be paid, and a fee of £1,000 had already been deposited in the bank account of Parker, Wilkinson and Partners, but the Emir wanted him there very soon; could he fly in two days' time?
The Embassy agreed to make all the arrangements and said that a car would collect Thomas and his family at half past seven in the morning to take them to the airport for their flight. Tickets and so forth would be provided, and it would be unnecessary to purchase any Kobekistani currency, as that too would be provided.
At home, he and his wife, Emma, discussed the trip at length. Three or four days, the Embassy had said, on the Emir's private yacht. Emma, somewhat to Thomas's surprise, was keen to go.
"When else will I ever get the chance to meet a king?" she asked, "And a private yacht sounds luxurious. How big do you think it is?"
"A good deal larger than the gin palace boats we saw at Henley last year," her husband replied, "Fifty or sixty feet long, I imagine, perhaps more. These Middle Eastern types don't stint themselves with their oil money you know."
It was with a mixture of disbelief and relief that Thomas and his wife, Emma, saw the Rolls-Royce pull up outside their home at the appointed time. As they were ushered in to the car by the chauffeur they realised that a crib had been fitted to the bulkhead behind the driver's seat and it was into this that their baby daughter, Kate, went for the journey.
At Heathrow they were escorted to the VIP lounge and then on to the Air Kobekistani jumbo jet where they were given first class seats and again a bassinet had been fitted in place of one of the seats. Thomas had a shrewd idea that someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure their comfort on the flight. A partition placed round the area where they were sitting, giving them privacy during the flight, confirmed their importance, as did the stewardess who seemed to have no other duties than to attend to their needs.
Then a thought struck Thomas and he asked the stewardess, "What happened about customs and passport control and so on?"
"All taken care of, Master. You are travelling as the guests of the Emir."
Admiral Henry Hargreaves had three hours notice of the arrival of the Emir and "some friends from England" and was rather nervous. He had never actually met his employer in person and wondered what he would be like. Of course, he had been told that this was a young new Emir, English educated, and not much given to holidaying on the Imperial Voyager.
He was on deck when the Emir's Rolls-Royce pulled up at the foot of the gangplank and stood to attention, saluting as His Magnificence was piped aboard. The other officers and any crew within a hundred feet or so performed deep obeisance. However, Henry was determined to start as he meant to go on. The owner might be coming aboard and might be the sovereign ruler of this country, but he was coming aboard Henry's ship, and the Captain remains Captain, even if the owner is aboard.
Lianne
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Nautical DelightsChapter 1 England
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Nautical DelightsChapter 2 Kobekistan
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