Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  ‘It must have been heartbreaking seeing all those people who need help and not being able to help them all.’

  ‘But you’re—’

  ‘I’m what? Rich? Famous?’ He sighed. ‘But I’m so limited in what I can do. I go out there, take the eyes of the world to these places, show them what’s wrong, and I try to help. But for every one person I help . . . there’s a thousand that I can’t.’

  She understood that sentiment. She had been overwhelmed by it in the first weeks in Lesotho. Every night, when the clinic closed, and the warmth leached away, the queue of people would dissipate back to wherever they were camping out. No matter how many children they treated, no matter how many food parcels they gave out, the queue never got any shorter. ‘I know,’ she said quietly.

  Ben’s gaze met hers and she saw genuine sadness. Something passed between them. She had thought they had nothing in common. Maybe she was wrong.

  Ben stirred his drink and grimaced. ‘And after all that, I have to turn round and come back to this.’ He waved a hand to encompass the subdued surroundings and his expensive drink. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with this,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s great. It’s just . . .’

  ‘It’s overwhelming and opulent, but you’re used to it, surely?’

  ‘Most of the time I’m used to it, but sometimes, when I’m just back from somewhere, I notice how extravagant it all looks.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘And don’t call me Shirley.’

  That was a terrible joke. She shook her head and tried not to laugh.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s a family joke. We all love the Airplane movies.’ He gave her a sheepish grin. Something else you never saw. Prince Benedict looking sheepish. He looked like a normal guy. A very good-looking normal guy, with perfectly straight teeth and amazing eyes . . . but a normal guy. Kumari felt her shoulders unbunch a little bit. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  But whatever had passed between them had gone. He had killed it with a badly timed joke. There was an awkward silence.

  ‘What about you, then?’ she said, a little emboldened by the fact that even princes told terrible jokes. ‘How come you’re so down on being in London?’

  ‘I’m not down on being in London. I live here,’ he said. ‘I’m just down on the sadness in the world that I can’t change.’

  ‘OK . . . in that case, what’s your favourite bit of London?’

  ‘That’s easy,’ he said. ‘My place.’

  ‘Buckingham Palace?’

  ‘No. My flat. Sheesh. You really do believe everything you read in the papers.’ He leant his elbows on the table. ‘I’m not that guy. Honestly.’

  ‘So the drinking and dancing naked . . .’

  ‘OK, that bit is true,’ he said. ‘But I was back from active service. A few of the guys and I were just blowing off steam.’ He raised his glass of tomato juice. ‘But I’ve mended my ways, see.’

  ‘And your girlfriend?’

  ‘Who is it meant to be this week? I lose track.’

  She couldn’t remember. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Despite what the newspapers say, I’m currently definitely single,’ he said, looking straight at her.

  Wow. How to cut to the chase. She wasn’t sure whether she liked that or not. ‘Uh . . . me too.’ As a second thought, she added, ‘In the interests of full disclosure, I should say that I used to be married. I got divorced about three years ago.’

  ‘You must have got married when you were . . . what . . . sixteen?’

  ‘Ha ha. Twenty-one actually. It all went wrong after about four years.’

  ‘What happened?’ He was watching her carefully, like he was genuinely interested.

  ‘Our careers took off and we never saw each other. Then, when we did, we realised we’d changed.’ She shrugged. ‘The usual story. Too young and stupid.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Yeah. I was young. He was stupid.’

  He laughed out loud. He had the sort of laugh that belonged to a bigger man. It suited him somehow and made her want to laugh too.

  As they chatted, Kumari relaxed a bit more, and conversation flowed easily. They discussed politics and food and wildlife and the books they both kept meaning to read. Ben was charming. She worked with enough doctors to know charm when she saw it. She knew guys who were genuinely nice and ones who could turn it on and off like a tap, being warm and kind to the patients and hell on wheels to the nurses. Shane, her ex-husband, had been charming.

  But this guy was a prince. Charming was practically part of the job description.

  She looked at her watch. Two hours had passed. How had that happened? ‘I’m really sorry, but I have to go,’ she said apologetically. ‘I’ve had a really nice time, but I have to work tomorrow.’

  He looked disappointed. ‘Oh. OK. Not a bad idea, I suppose. I have to work tomorrow, too.’

  She itched to ask what sort of work it was. Opening a new building? Playing football with orphans? Princely duties. She kept her mouth shut.

  There was an awkward silence. She bent down to pick up her handbag and get out her purse.

  ‘Oh don’t worry about that.’ He put his hand up. ‘They put your drinks on my tab.’

  ‘I can’t let you do that.’

  ‘Of course you can. I chose this ridiculously expensive place. I can’t make you pay for your drinks. That would be . . . very wrong.’

  It suddenly occurred to her that she may well be paying for her own drink through her taxes. ‘Yes, but who pays your tab?’

  He sighed. ‘I do.’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘I can assure you, that’s paid with my own money. I am, I believe the phrase is, “independently wealthy”. So even a dedicated anti-monarchist can’t object to my buying her a drink.’

  She opened her mouth to argue. She wasn’t a dedicated anti-monarchist. She was ambivalent about the monarchy.

  ‘I must insist,’ he said. There was a certain finality to his words.

  She put her purse back.

  ‘You know,’ he said, smiling. ‘Most women don’t bother asking about these things.’

  She could well imagine they didn’t. Those blue eyes, not to mention those lovely broad shoulders . . . they could be pretty distracting. She pulled her gaze back to her hands. Not that she was distracted. No, no. ‘I’m not most women.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Clearly not.’ He leant forward. ‘Kumari, I had a nice time this evening.’

  ‘Me too.’ She was surprised to find she meant it. She had been on far worse blind dates than this. She stood up.

  ‘I’d like to see you again,’ he said.

  ‘You would? Why?’

  ‘Because I like you,’ he said. ‘Obviously.’ He rose too.

  ‘But—’

  ‘It’s the prince thing, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Is that what’s bothering you?’

  She started to say no and realised that was a lie. It was the prince thing. ‘Look . . . Ben. I don’t understand what’s going on here. I’m a doctor. I work stupid hours and . . .’

  ‘You’re also interesting and sharp and caring,’ he said. ‘I like that.’

  They stared at each other. Part of her was scared and overwhelmed by the urge to run away. Another part of her was charmed. He waggled his eyebrows at her. She couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘OK, fine,’ she said. ‘One more date.’

  He grinned at her. ‘Excellent. When are you not working?’ She pulled out her diary.

  ‘You have a paper diary?’ he said. ‘I love that.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He pulled out his phone and came to stand next to her. He smelt amazing. It made her think of woodland and summer. How could a man smell of woodland and summer? She focused on her diary. Pull yourself together, Kumari.

  She suggested some dates and they found an evening when they were both able to meet.

  ‘I’ll send a car for you,’
he said. ‘I know somewhere where we can eat a nice meal without too much fuss.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘I can tell you don’t do fuss.’

  He was standing very close. So close that if she moved a tiny bit, she could lean her head on his shoulder. He did smell very nice. She looked up and her gaze found his eyes. For a millisecond she stared into them and felt the magnetic pull of him. Then she remembered herself and looked away.

  Chapter 5

  Cause Celeb Magazine

  My wild nights with the prince: exclusive interview

  Cause Celeb Magazine brings you an exclusive interview with model Emily Twist (29) who dated Prince Benedict for a short time while she was working as a society hostess in Monte Carlo. Twist was 27 when she met Prince Benedict at a party. The pair hit it off immediately and dated for around a month. Emily Twist now reveals the truth about what happened during those weeks. Turn to page 6 for the extraordinary revelations about wild toga parties, decadent excess and the now famous vodka-tasting party that led to photos of the prince dancing naked on the beach.

  Lucy was lying in wait for Kumari when she got back. ‘How did the blind date go?’ she said, not bothering to sit up from where she was lying on the sofa. ‘Was he nice?’

  Kumari didn’t reply immediately. Ben had got a taxi to take her home. She had sat in the back of the car in a daze, wondering how on earth she had ended up having a cosy evening chatting to a prince. Not just any prince. The ‘most eligible bachelor in the country’ prince. It was bewildering and intoxicating. But she couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d made a bit of an idiot of herself. On the other hand, he did want to see her again.

  ‘Kumari?’

  ‘What? Sorry. I was miles away.’

  Lucy bounced up off the sofa. ‘So, what was he like?’

  ‘He was . . . very nice. Charming, in fact.’

  ‘So, you liked him?’

  Did she like him? He was a prince. A bloody prince. She had no place hanging out with someone like that. She was a doctor. The daughter of an overworked teacher and an equally overworked nurse. She’d grown up in a small, terraced house in Yorkshire. None of these things were compatible with going out with royalty. But did she like him?

  ‘Yes. I liked him.’

  Lucy clapped her hands like a cheesy YouTube sensation. ‘Are you going to see him again?’

  ‘Yes.’ But only because he’d done that thing with his eyebrows. She’d always had a soft spot for a guy who didn’t take himself too seriously. Mind you, that’s what she’d found attractive in Shane and look how that turned out.

  ‘You have to tell me everything.’

  Kumari hung her coat up and flopped down on the sofa.

  ‘Well . . .’ There was one big piece of information that would blow everything out of the water. Except she couldn’t tell Lucy about that. It was too precious a fact to talk about yet. Besides which, he’d asked for discretion. ‘His name is Ben. He’s tall. Nice shoulders. Blue eyes.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Sounding good so far. What does he do?’

  What did he do? Royal things. Cut ribbons, give speeches, that sort of thing. ‘He . . . works for a charity.’

  ‘What, like that Ruby woman?’ Lucy and Ruby were the very definition of a personality clash.

  ‘No. Not really.’

  ‘What sort of a charity?’

  She thought of the things he had talked about.

  ‘Poverty alleviation in Africa, wildlife preservation, that sort of thing.’

  Lucy gave her a dig in the ribs. ‘So, you guys have lots in common, then.’

  They did, which was weird, considering they came from such different worlds. ‘I suppose.’

  Lucy made encouraging motions with her hands. ‘And . . .’

  Kumari smiled. ‘I’m not sure how well suited we are yet, but he’s a nice guy so . . .’

  ‘The crucial question though, Kumari, is do you fancy him?’

  She had to think about that one. ‘He’s good-looking,’ she said. And he smelt amazing. And his eyes were the most incredible blue. And there was something about that smile that did funny things to her.

  ‘Ooh, I know that face,’ said Lucy. ‘Are you going to see him again? You are, aren’t you?’

  Kumari grinned. ‘Yeah.’

  Lucy squealed and ran over to give her a hug. Kumari laughed and hugged her back.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ she told Lucy.

  ‘Yeah. Me too.’ Lucy grinned and gave her an excited little pat on the shoulder.

  Kumari made it as far her room before Ruby called her.

  ‘Well? How did it go? Are you going to see him again?’

  She was about to give her the same answer she’d given Lucy, but something didn’t feel right. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said.

  ‘Aww. Did it not go well? That’s a shame.’ Ruby didn’t sound overly disappointed. In fact, she sounded pleased.

  ‘Ruby, I’m tired. I’m heading off to bed.’ She wondered if she was going to get a thank you for going on the date. She was, after all, doing Ruby a favour.

  ‘You sleep well, hon,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Benedict.’

  ‘Hmm.’ So, no thank you then. ‘Cheers.’

  *

  The next week passed in a tired haze of hospital beds and patient records. By the time her date with Ben came round, Kumari was a bag of nerves. She had never been interested in the lives of the royals before, but now she found herself picking up the newspapers in the staff room and leafing through for a glimpse of him. One of his sisters had worn a fuchsia coat and that week’s news seemed to be more about that than anything else.

  She leant her elbows on the work surface and sipped her coffee. She was in her dressing gown after coming in from a night shift. Lucy came in, all tied-up hair and sensible shoes.

  ‘Looking forward to your date with the mysterious Ben tonight?’ she said, dropping bread into the toaster.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Nervous?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘It’s no good. You have to tell me more about him.’ She leant against the cupboards and crossed her arms. ‘Please.’

  ‘There isn’t a lot to tell. He seems nice. He travels a lot and does . . . actually, I’m not sure what he does. Stuff to do with charities.’

  ‘Ooh. Non-specific job description. Should that ring alarm bells?’ said Lucy.

  No. It didn’t. Everything he did was all over the media. If only she had time to read it all. Lucy would know. She would know all about the fuchsia coat and all about Benedict. The trouble was, if Kumari let on who Ben was, Lucy would probably go into orbit and Kumari would never hear the end of it.

  The toast popped. Lucy turned around to pick it up.

  ‘Have you googled him?’ she said, over her shoulder. ‘He is who he says he is, right?’

  Kumari had to suppress a giggle. He was who he said he was all right, only maybe a little less smooth than his public image. ‘Yeah. I googled him.’

  ‘Did you find anything juicy?’

  She hid her face behind her coffee. ‘No. Nothing unexpected.’

  Lucy frowned at Kumari. She pointed a corner of her buttered toast at her. ‘I think you like this mystery man more than you’re letting on.’ She bit into the toast with an air of finality.

  ‘I’m confused, is what I am,’ said Kumari. ‘I don’t know how I feel about him. He’s nice. He’s good company. But I don’t think we’re compatible. He’s busy. I’m busy. It’ll never work. That was pretty much what went wrong the first time. Shane was busy. I was busy.’

  ‘Busy is just a state of mind, Kumari. You can work things out if you really want to . . .’

  ‘Evidence would suggest otherwise.’

  ‘You and Shane were never meant for each other. He refuses to watch any of the Star Wars movies, for a start. That’s not the behaviour of a normal human being.’ Lucy put two more slices into the toaster. It always baffled Kumari how m
uch Lucy could eat without actually putting on any weight.

  ‘Granted,’ said Kumari.

  ‘You’ve been very sketchy on details about this guy,’ said Lucy. ‘This is another reason I suspect you like him. I know what you’re like. You don’t give things up if they’re precious to you.’

  Kumari shook her head. ‘There really isn’t much to tell. Look. Let’s change the subject.’

  ‘OK.’ Lucy took a bite of toast and waved the rest of the slice at her. ‘Your mother called.’

  Amma always called the flat instead of her mobile. Her rationale was that she didn’t want to disturb Kumari if she was at work. Kumari suspected it was really because she wanted to chat to Lucy. Amma loved Lucy. The two of them would gossip for hours. Amma shared a bit of Lucy’s royal obsession too. Kumari had sat through the highlights of Princess Helena’s wedding with the two of them and it had been excruciating.

  ‘And . . . ?’ Kumari narrowed her eyes. ‘Tell me you didn’t let slip that I have a date tonight.’

  Lucy pulled an apologetic grimace. ‘I’m really sorry. She was talking about how she was worried about you not getting over Shane and I kinda said you were dating again. I said there was no one specific. She was just happy to hear you weren’t pining over Shane.’

  ‘I was never pining over Shane. Seriously.’

  ‘I know,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m sure your mum knows that too. She’s just worried about you, that’s all.’

  *

  Later that evening, a car arrived to take Kumari to the restaurant. It was another upmarket place that she wouldn’t normally have gone to. She’d done some fine dining when she was with Shane and though she might have appreciated it back then, now she’d much rather have a takeaway and a glass of wine at home. Mind you, it had been a while since she’d been on a date. The last actual date she’d had before Ben . . . oh, it had been with another expat doctor in Maseru. It was more of a farewell dinner than a date. It hadn’t gone much further than dinner.

  She was met at the door by a waiter who took her to a private room. To her surprise, she had butterflies in her stomach. Really? At her age? She told herself to be sensible. This relationship wasn’t going to go anywhere. She was only here because she was curious.