The Windsor Caper

Table of Contents

The Windsor Caper

Gerda Weissmann Klein

Author’s note

COMING TO ENGLAND

The penny introduces the adventure

Will Julie’s dream come true?

Julie heads for England

The royalty game

London gobsmacks Julie

England – at last!

Julie’s new uniform

The English school

Julie and Alysa share a secret

The Cotswold cookies

The Runnymede effect

INTO THE CASTLE

A dark dank castle

First glimpse of the castle

Inside the castle

A doll’s house for a Queen

A secret garden

Alone and trapped

The king’s armor

A table for sixty

Face to face with Her Majesty

Moving pictures

SINISTER CHARACTERS?

Man hops from picture

Alysa chooses a king

The tale of Queen Elizabeth I

Alysa shows off her history

Julie meets Henry VIII

Julie’s weird new teacher

A strange new language

The tools of war

Strange animals on shields

Mildest is wildest

More scary beasties

The seeds of knowledge

A lion struts his stuff

The medieval shield test

A very weird animal

Another tough test

Three heads too many

A wild dance

RUDE AWAKENING

A puzzling conversation

The man in the wall

A good kick in the shins

The kindly clock man

Old Ben talks clocks

Another close call

A fairy-tale ride

Home at last, but what to say?

Julie almost slips up

Girls guard their secret

A scary phone call

The mystery deepens

Unraveling dreams

The girls finally tell all

A CROOKED LANGUAGE?

Back to the castle

Too many doors unlocked

Julie makes a shocking discovery

The key to the mystery

The code revealed

Completing the puzzle

Celebrity thief catchers

Pensive penny’s last thoughts

Penny thoughts

The Windsor Caper

Gerda Weissmann Klein

First published in serial format by The Buffalo News, 1987

This paperback edition first published 2013

Copyright © 2013 Gerda Weissmann Klein

Published by Martin Good

Gerda Weissmann Klein has asserted her moral right to be identified as the author of this workin accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publishers.

ISBN 978-0-9576554-2-3

Produced by Cambridge Publishing Management Limited

Illustrations by Tim Oliver

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Gerda Weissmann Klein

Gerda is a powerful campaigner for tolerance and human rights. Raised in Bielsko, Poland, from age 15 she suffered six years under the Nazis, first confined to the basement of her home, then in the local ghetto, followed by a series of slave labor camps. This culminated in a 350-mile forced march in the winter of 1945. Of the more than 2,000 women who began the Death March, fewer than 120 survived. She was eventually liberated by a US Army officer, Kurt Klein – himself a refugee from Germany – who later became her husband. She is the subject of One Survivor Remembers, an intensely moving HBO film that received an Academy Award for best documentary. In 2012, the film was selected by the Library of Congress to be entered into the National Film Registry. A powerful writer, her autobiography All But My Life, first published in 1957 and now in its 68th US edition, is an inspiring testament to hope, friendship and love. Gerda is still writing at age 89 and her published books span the spectrum, from a biography of a Southern philanthropist who played a key role in combating racial discrimination in the segregated South in the 1960s, to books that help children understand autism and those who are developmentally disabled.

Gerda is a charismatic public speaker who has delivered her messages across the US and much of the world – focusing not on the horrors she experienced but, rather, on the uplifting dimensions of the human spirit. An illustrative example of her humanitarian work, Gerda and her late husband were invited to help the children and families of Columbine High School, following the tragedy in that community. President Bill Clinton appointed her to the governing board of the US Holocaust Memorial Museum. In 2008 she founded Citizenship Counts, which promotes education for tolerance, engaged citizenship and service to the community. Gerda is the recipient of numerous honors: President Barack Obama awarded her the Presidential Medal of Freedom – the nation’s highest civilian honor. For more information see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerda_Weissmann_Klein.

Gerda has always had a passion for English history – first aroused when, as a young girl, she read about her contemporary, Princess Elizabeth. Her interest was further deepened by a lifetime of immersion in the history of the monarchy and her gratitude for England’s actions during World War Two. In the 1980s she wrote The Windsor Caper in more than 60 weekly episodes as a serial in a Buffalo, New York newspaper. The story has never been published since, but remains one of her proudest achievements. Delightful, gentle and magical, it demonstrates her talents as a writer and her love for, and empathy with, children.

Author’s note

Ever since childhood I have had a love of and fascination with English history, especially as it relates to the royal family. As an adult I had the pleasure and privilege of applying my interest when I was engaged by The Buffalo News in 1977 to cover Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee. My fascination with history and fairy tales found its culmination – literally the jewel in the crown – at Windsor Castle. With The Windsor Caper I hoped to capture the majesty, brilliance and magnificence of England’s many treasures and infuse them with wizardry, drama and a parade of splendid out-of-this-world beasties. I must also express my appreciation to my late, beloved husband Kurt for all the rhyming verses in the book.

In the time-honored tradition of fairy tales, princesses sleeping in enchanted castles are awoken by gallant princes into a new and different world. This story, which I typed on an old Smith Corona typewriter, slept for decades in a dust-covered box in my attic. It came to life again as a result of a visit by my distinguished, urbane British cousin. On the subject of my obsession with English history, my cousin Martin Good and my daughter Vivian Ullman, the family’s discriminating connoisseur in decorative and written art, joined forces to bring it forth into a world of computers and modern technology. In awe of what I see, I desperately wish that my beloved late husband, typesetter and editor, would see the beasties, which he so ably and colorfully rhymed, coming to life magically in print and on computer screens. To Martin and Vivian, my deepest profound gratitude and love. I want to share this educational treasure trove with my eight grandchildren Alysa, Julie, Andrew, Melissa, Lindsay, Jennifer, Jessica and Lexi, and my three young great-grandsons Elias, Jonas and Tyler, as well as with all children and all who are children at heart!

COMING TO ENGLAND

The penny introduces the adventure

The penny in the piggy bank was pleased to have gained majority approval for telling the story of his unusual adventures. Without further ado, he launched into details, allowing himself a few theatrical gestures to underscore

various points of his narrative. His resonant voice, just a little on the pompous side, came across as a mixture of benevolent uncle and great orator.

My good friends, he began, you will, I hope, bear with me while I try to set the stage, so to speak, for what’s to come. That way, you will have some background and better understanding of the characters involved …

Oh oh. He knows he’s got a captive audience, said a voice from deep in the coin pile.

Undeterred, the penny went on, I shall spare you the story of my early life.

Thank heavens for small favors, the voice could be heard again over the narration.

"My story begins in England in the 1980s, where I was with my long-time owner, an actor at the ‘Old Vic,’ the home of a famous Shakespearean troupe that had been on tour in the United States, where he acquired me. He was very fond of an old ‘mac’ he owned … no, I don’t mean a ‘Big Mac,’ just an old, beat-up but indispensable mackintosh, as raincoats are called in England. You see, I was stuck in that raincoat pocket when my owner, while entering a theater one day, made a dramatic gesture, and that’s when I found myself dislodged and flung under a seat near an aisle. The cleaner did not find me, much to my relief. That evening, at a superb performance of the musical Cats, a pretty woman put down her purse near me.

"When the lights went on during intermission, she bent down to retrieve her bag and spotted me. I could tell right away I was among Americans when she exclaimed, ‘Look, Jim, look! I found an American penny. Isn’t that great? We’ll give it to Alysa for good luck!’

"When the couple came home later that evening, the lady put me on her dresser in a tastefully furnished bedroom. The next morning, three children burst into the room clamoring for their parents’ attention and I was convinced the lady had forgotten all about me.

"There were two girls and a boy, and I couldn’t help wondering which of the girls was Alysa. But late that afternoon my new owner took the eight-year-old to her room, reached for me and said ‘I found a penny last night, Alysa, that I think you’ll be interested in.’

"‘But Mummy, this is not a penny,’ the little girl answered with an unmistakably British accent, ‘there’s no picture of the Queen.’

"‘No, Alysa, this isn’t an English penny. It’s one of our own from home. You probably don’t remember what our coins look like, do you? You can see this one has a picture of Abraham Lincoln on it and I don’t have to tell you who he was.’

"‘No, but was he like the Queen is here?’

"‘Well, not exactly. Presidents are more like prime ministers are here – like Mrs. Thatcher.’

"It became obvious that Alysa had been away from home for quite a while and her mother filled her in on President Lincoln’s history.

"Her voice showed how proud she was to be an American and there was a touch of homesickness about the things she related. She wound up. ‘You’ve heard of pennies being lucky – well, let this be your good luck penny. You can wish on it or rub it for good luck, and anyway, it’s a reminder of home. Show it to your friends Livy and Cornelia, or anybody else in class. Just don’t lose it.’

"‘I won’t, Mummy, I won’t,’ the American girl sang out with her English lilt.

"Going to her room, Alysa sat for a moment in the broad, round window seat that looked out on a rock garden. Relaxing her tight grip, she examined me with her enormous, beautiful blue eyes.

"‘Mr. President, I’m glad you’re here; it’s an honor to have you,’ she said with conviction, then put me into a small, open box that housed some of her other treasures.

I was in the company of a delicate gold chain, a couple of barrettes, several ribbons, a Mickey Mouse ring and a king-size Yorkie bar, which, I’m sure you don’t know, was Princess Diana’s favorite candy. She was the mother of Prince William and Prince Harry and was so popular all over the world! Now we all adore William and his gorgeous wife Kate. Oh and by the way, there was also a great big plastic button that said ‘I Love Maryland.’

Hear, hear, an enthusiastic voice interrupted the narration. Long live Maryland, my favorite state.

The half-dollar who acted as moderator was obviously on edge about the interruption. He toppled on his back with a loud clink to get attention, then sternly ruled that there were to be no further interruptions, lest the story get too confusing.

The penny continued. "Pleasant as it was in Alysa’s room, I hadn’t counted on winding up as part of a collection. It was just too boring.

Before we get any further, said the penny, you must understand that many things were different back in the 1980s, when all this happened. There were no cellphones, com­puters, smartphones, iPods, video games, Facebook, Google … there wasn’t even something called the Internet. We all had to rely on making telephone calls from fixed phones and writing letters.

Will Julie’s dream come true?

The cat was out of the bag. Julie, curled up in her cozy bedroom in Nevada, was reading a letter from her cousin Alysa. It said that her uncle and aunt, currently staying in England, had invited her to spend at least part of her summer vacation with them.

Realizing that somehow she had to overcome her dad’s initial reaction, which had been all negative, she flung herself into a campaign of persuasion that would have done justice to a seasoned politician.

After a few days of exemplary behavior and much pleading, she thought she detected a chink in her mother’s armor. The latter had aligned herself with her husband’s position, although her arguments against the trip were never as vehement. Julie sensed an opening and used one of her mother’s admonitions to state the case in her favor.

Mom, you always say that I’m the oldest and should have enough sense not to fight with my sister, and that I should be responsible when it comes to taking care of the baby. So, if all that’s true, then how come I’m not responsible enough to spend some time in England?

Her mother was hard put for an answer and resorted to the old delaying tactic of We’ll see. But Julie knew she had scored some points. Julie’s mother was indeed wavering. That evening