And Thereby Hangs a Tale (20 page)

The man looked up and gave the stranger who
had dared to interrupt his game an unwelcoming gaze.

'Are you Captain Campbell?' Percy enquired.

'Who wants tae ken?' asked the bearded man suspiciously.

'My name is Forsdyke,' said Percy, and then,
to the astonishment of everyone in the pub, delivered a short, well-rehearsed
speech at the top of his voice.

When Percy came to the end, the bearded man
placed his double four reluctantly back on the table and, in a brogue that
Percy could just about decipher, asked, 'An wur exactly dae ye expect mi tae
tak' ye?'

Percy opened his map and spread it out on the
table, propelling dominoes in every direction. He then placed a finger in the
middle of the North Sea. Four pairs of eyes looked down in disbelief. The
captain shook his head, repeating the words 'Nae possible' several times, until
Percy mentioned the figure of five hundred pounds. All four of the men seated
around the table suddenly took a far greater interest in the Englishman's
preposterous proposal. Captain Campbell then began a conversation with his
colleagues that no one south of Inverness would have been able to follow without
a translator. He finally looked up and said, 'Ah want a hundred pound up front,
noo, an' the ether four hundred afore ah let ye oan ma boat.'

Percy extracted five twenty-pound notes from
his wallet and handed them across to the captain, who smiled for the first time
since they'd met. 'Bi stannin' on the dockside ae Bonnie Belle at five tamorra
moarnin', said Campbell as he distributed the cash among his mates.

'Once I have the ether four hundred, I'll
tak' ye to your island.'

Percy was standing on the quayside long
before five the following morning, an overnight bag, his battered old school
trunk and a ten-foot pole at his feet. He was dressed in a three-piece suit,
white shirt, his old school tie, and was carrying a rolled umbrella.

Standard FCO kit when one is posted to some
foreign field. He braced himself against the biting wind as he waited for the
captain to appear. He felt both exhilarated and terrified at the same time.

He turned his attention to the little
fishing vessel he'd chartered for this expedition, and wondered if it had ever
ventured outside ter-ritorial waters, let alone into the middle of the North
Sea. For a moment he considered returning to his hotel and abandoning the whole
exercise, but the vision of his father and grandfather standing on the dock
beside him strengthened his resolve.

The captain and his three mates appeared out
of the early morning mist at one minute to five. All four of them were dressed
in exactly the same clothes they had been wearing the night before, making
Percy wonder if they'd come straight from the Fisherman's Arms. Was it a
seafarer's gait they displayed as they strolled towards him, or had they spent
his hundred pounds on what the Scots are most celebrated for?

The captain gave Percy a mock salute, and thrust
out his hand. Percy was about to shake it, when he realized that it was being held
palm upwards. He handed over four hundred pounds, and Captain Campbell ordered
his crew to carry Percy's luggage on board. Two of the young men were clearly surprised
by how heavy the trunk was. Percy followed them up the gangway, clinging on to
the pole which never left his side, even when he joined the captain on the
bridge.

The captain studied several oceanographic charts
before confirming the exact location at which Percy had asked to be abandoned and
then gave the order to cast off. 'Ah think it'll tak' us at least a day an' a
night afore wi reach oor destination,' said the captain, 'so perhaps,
laddie, it might bi wise fur ye tae lay doon. The waves cin bi a wee bit choppy
wance wi leave the shelter ae the harbour.'

They had only just passed Wick lighthouse when
Percy began to appreciate the true meaning of Captain Campbell's words, and to
regret having had a second helping of porridge that morning. He spent most of
the day leaning over the railing, depositing what he'd eaten the previous day
into the waves. It wasn't much different during the night, except that it was
dark and the crew couldn't see him. He declined the captain's offer to join
them for a supper of fish stew.

After thirty hours of Percy wishing the ship
would sink, or someone would throw him overboard, the first mate pointed
through the mist and hollered, 'Land ahoy!' But it was some time before the
blurred dot on the ho-rizon finally turned into a piece of land that might
just have been described by an assiduous cartographer as an island.

Percy wanted to cheer, but his voice became muffled
as the little vessel continued to circle the island in a valiant attempt to
find a landing place. All they could see ahead of them were treacherous rocks
and unassailable cliffs that didn't require a 'no entry' sign to warn them off.

Percy sank down on to the deck, feeling that
the whole exercise simply mirrored his career and would end in failure. He
bowed his head in despair, so didn't see the captain pointing to a cove that
boasted a small beach.

The crew were experienced at landing far more
slippery objects than Percy, and an hour later they left him on the beach along
with all his worldly goods. His parting words to the skipper as he climbed back
into his small dinghy were, 'If you return in ninety... one days and take me
back to the mainland, I'll pay you a further thousand pounds.'

He had anticipated the captain's response, and
without waiting to be asked handed over two hundred pounds in cash; but not
before he had confirmed the exact date on which the Bonnie Belle was to return.

'If you turn up even one hour before the ninety-first
day,' he said without explanation, 'you will not be paid another penny.'

Captain Campbell shrugged his shoulders, as he
was past trying to understand the eccentric Englishman, but he did manage
another salute once he'd pocketed the cash. The crew then rowed him back to his
little fishing vessel so they could go about their normal business on the high
seas, though not until they were back within the 150-mile legal limit.

Percy placed his feet wide apart and tried
to steady himself, but after thirty hours on the Bonnie Belle it felt as if the
whole island was swaying from side to side. He didn't move until his former
companions were out of sight.

He then dragged his belongings up the beach on
to higher ground before he went in search of a suitable piece of land on which
to pitch his tent. The relentless wind and squalls of rain did not assist his
progress.

The flattest piece of land Percy came across
during his initial recce turned out to be the highest point on the island,
while the most sheltered spot was a large cave nestled in a cliff on the west
side. It took him the rest of the day to move all his belongings from the beach
to his new home.

After devouring a can of baked beans and a carton
of long-life milk, he climbed into his sleeping bag and spent his first
night on Forsdyke Island. He missed Horatio.

Most people would find trying to survive for
three months on a small, uninhabited island in the North Sea somewhat daunting,
but having spent thirty years in the basement of the Foreign and Commonwealth
Office, Percy Forsdyke was equal to the task.

Moreover, he knew that his father and grandfather
would regard it as nothing more than character building.

Percy spent his first full day on the island
unpacking his trunk and making his new home as comfortable as possible. He
stacked all the food at the coldest end of the cave and placed his equipment
neatly along the sides.

For some weeks Percy had been planning the routine
he'd follow on the island. He would begin the day with a bowl of cornflakes, a boiled
egg (until he could bear them no more) and a mug of tea while listeninÙwhie wee
QÙwhie weg to the Today Programme on Radio Four. This would be followed by a session
of digging on the highest point of the island, weather permitting. Lunch,
usually spam and baked beans, would be followed by a siesta. Not that Percy was
avoiding the heat of the sun, you understand; he was just tired.

When he woke, Percy would spend the rest of the
afternoon exploring the island until he was familiar with every nook and cranny
of his kingdom. Once the sun had set, which was very late at that time of year,
he would prepare his dinner: more spam and baked beans. It didn't take long for
Percy to regret his lack of culinary imagination.

After listening to the ten o'clock news and reading
some Shakespeare by candlelight, he would climb into his sleeping bag and carry
out the last ritual of the day, bringing his diary up to date. He would detail
everything he'd done that day, as it would be part of the evidence he
would eventually present to the Foreign Office.

Percy had selected his ninety days of
isolation carefully. He was able to follow the ball-by-ball commentary of all
five Test matches against Australia, as well as the seven One Day
Internationals. He also enjoyed thirteen plays of the week, and sixty-four
episodes of The Archers, but he stopped listening to Gardeners' Question Time
when he realized it didn't provide many useful tips for someone living on a
small island in the North Sea.

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 23 September 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 favourite speeches from Henry V, while checking his
watch every few minutes.

At eleven o'clock, Percy lifted the flagpole
on to 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.