Christmas at the Palace

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Christmas at the Palace Page 10

by Jeevani Charika


  Her mother gave a little laugh. ‘Your tone when you say “Prince Benedict” is different to how you say “Ben”,’ she said. ‘It’s almost as though you’re talking about two different people.’

  ‘I am,’ she said. ‘Ben . . . my Ben, is different to the guy you see on telly and in the newspapers. He doesn’t drink nearly as much for a start.’

  ‘Well, I must admit that is a relief to hear,’ her mother said.

  ‘And he’s nice. You’d like him.’

  ‘Can we meet him?’ Her father’s frown was back. ‘I suppose we’ll have to come to London.’ He cast a glance around their small house. It was cosy and comfortable, but very small. ‘He can’t come here.’

  ‘No. We’d have to go to him. To Ben’s place in Kensington Palace, maybe.’ She paused to look at their faces. They both looked a little stunned. She grinned. ‘I’m sorry, you both look so surprised. It’s funny.’

  ‘Well,’ said her mother, ‘we can’t all throw around phrases like “Prince Benedict’s place in Kensington Palace” in everyday conversation.’

  Kumari smiled. ‘Obviously, I don’t need to tell you not to tell anyone,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ said Amma. ‘Of course not.’ She caught Thatha’s eye. ‘Can you imagine?’

  He smiled. ‘Imagine if Sonali Aunty found out.’

  Amma started to laugh. ‘She’d want to come and visit immediately. You’d have a hell of a time keeping her out of Kensington Palace.’

  Kumari could picture her Sonali Aunty and the tide of other aunties swarming in Ben’s big apartment, investigating everything, taking pictures so that they could tell everyone that they knew Prince Benedict personally, and had been to his house. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Definitely don’t tell anyone. Especially the aunties.’

  *

  At the end of the evening, before she went to bed, Amma said, ‘Remember that we’re always here for you if you need us. No matter what happens, there will always be a safe place for you here.’

  While Kumari really hoped she wouldn’t need to take them up on that again, it was still nice to know. ‘I’ll remember that,’ she said.

  ‘We just want you to be happy.’

  Kumari gave her mother a tight hug. She had been right to come home and talk to her parents. They were in her corner no matter what happened. It made everything feel more manageable.

  Chapter 10

  Fast Light News

  Adorable pictures of Princess Francesca as she turns five!

  Buckingham Palace has released official photographs of Princess Francesca’s fifth birthday. The young princess is pictured in a formal pose with her parents, HRH Princess Helena and the Duke of Tewksbury, and her grandparents. The photograph that will melt the nation’s hearts, though, is the one of Princess Francesca holding the hand of her eighteen-month-old sister, Princess Maria. The two princesses are third and fourth in line to the throne respectively.

  Photo captions: The birthday girl with her sister. Photo caption: Informal photograph of the younger royals, Princess Francesca sits in between her mother, Princess Helena, and her aunt, Princess Ophelia, while little Princess Maria is on the shoulders of her uncle, Prince Benedict.

  ‘Are you sure this looks OK?’ Kumari checked herself in the mirror yet again. She was wearing a long, cream skirt and a loose-fitting blouse, gathered at the waist.

  Ben appeared behind her, dressed in jeans, a shirt and a jumper. He looked impeccably groomed, like a catalogue model for Boden. He put his hands on her waist and kissed her cheek. ‘Relax, you’re going for tea, not a ball.’

  She side-eyed him. ‘Easy for you to say. They’re your family. To me, they’re the famous people I’ve only ever seen on TV before.’

  ‘So was I, until you got to know me,’ he said. ‘I’m not so bad, right?’

  ‘No. Fine. OK.’

  He picked up the bottle of wine and the small pack of gifts that Kumari had got for the children.

  ‘It’s nothing fancy,’ she said, now worried about the gifts. ‘They’re just things that my friends’ kids like.’

  ‘Helena’s kids get all kinds of expensive nonsense that they’re not interested in. The last time I went over, we played a ridiculous game involving lining marbles up on the weave of a wicker chair. I don’t think they care about how expensive toys are.’

  ‘But their mother might.’

  ‘Nah.’ He ushered her out of the apartment.

  ‘So, is this bit of Kensington full of apartments and houses belonging to members of the royal family?’ she asked, as they wandered through the building.

  ‘Yes. And some of the staff.’ He said hello to a butler who let them out through a side door. ‘There are comm—regular people’s apartments on the other side.’ They were in a small quadrangle now. A man in uniform who was having a smoke hastily extinguished his cigarette and saluted. Ben acknowledged him. They walked across the quad into another building.

  ‘So it’s like some sort of royal enclave,’ she said.

  He gave her a stern glance. She smothered a giggle. ‘Oh, come on, Ben. You’ve got to admit it’s funny. It’s like those places in Sri Lanka where the patriarch has built several homes on the same humongous piece of land and everyone there is related to each other.’

  ‘If you say so,’ he said. His eyes twinkled, but he didn’t laugh. The further they got from the apartment, the more tense he seemed to become.

  More corridors. Kumari felt the odd sensation that someone was following them. She turned to see that Ben’s bodyguard, Dave, and a colleague had appeared behind them. How did he do that? Dave nodded to her.

  They finally emerged through a side door into a kitchen garden. He led her through, nodding to the gardeners, who all paused in their work to greet him. An opening through a high box hedge led to a lovely enclosed garden where a table was set with a white tablecloth and food. There were finger sandwiches and plates filled with little square cakes. It was a proper afternoon tea. A few chairs were dotted around. A little girl, around five years old, was being chased around by a toddler. As soon as the older child spotted Ben, she changed course and ran straight to him. ‘Uncle Ben!’

  Ben handed Kumari the bottle of wine and scooped up the little girl and, meeting her sister halfway, scooped her up too.

  Feeling a little lost, Kumari followed him as he walked across the lawn, a child in each arm.

  Princess Helena stood up. ‘Hello, Benedict.’ She offered her cheek for him to kiss, then turned to Kumari.

  ‘And you’re Kumari. I’m so pleased to meet you. Benedict has told us so much about you . . .’ She glanced at Ben. ‘Actually, that’s not totally true. He’s kept you very much to himself until last week, and he hasn’t stopped talking about you since. So I suppose it evens out.’

  Kumari curtsied as she’d been taught.

  ‘Oh thank you. Presents for the children,’ she said, noticing the parcels Kumari was carrying. ‘How lovely. Ben, put the girls down so they can open them.’

  Ben put the children down. Princess Helena introduced them – princesses Francesca, the older one, and Maria, the toddler. Kumari bent down to their level and both children solemnly shook hands with her. She gave them their gifts and after a swift glance at their mother to check it was OK they opened the little bags. Kumari watched self-consciously as they each pulled out a toy made of a stick with paper furled around it so that when they ‘threw’ it, the paper unfurled into a cone and then shrank back again. It took a couple of goes before the older one managed it with a shriek of laughter. Princess Helena helped the toddler with hers. Soon the kids were running around ‘throwing’ the paper cones at everyone.

  Ben put his arm around Kumari’s waist as they watched them.

  ‘Well, that should keep them happy for a while,’ said Princess Helena. She had the strange upper-class accent that made words sound like they had odd vowels in them. ‘Please sit down, Kumari. Let’s have a cup of tea.’

  They sat at one of the tables t
hat had been set and the princess poured tea. ‘How do you take it?’

  ‘Milk, no sugar,’ Kumari said.

  ‘See that, no sugar, Benedict.’ Helena raised her eyebrows at her brother. ‘You should listen to the good doctor.’

  He rolled his eyes.

  ‘So, Benedict tells me you worked in Africa vaccinating children, Kumari,’ she said. ‘Tell me more.’

  Kumari told her about the vaccination programme and the plight of women and children there. Helena listened to her, seemingly very interested. Every so often, she would ask a question. Kumari wondered if effective listening was something else the royals were trained in. Ben did it too. A sort of intense concentration, as though they could think of nothing better than to hear what you had to say. Surely no one could be that interested in anything. She made a note to ask Ben about it.

  After a few minutes, Ben slipped off to play with his nieces, leaving Kumari with the princess. She watched him leave. When she turned back, Helena was watching her.

  ‘My brother is very taken with you,’ she said carefully. What was she supposed to take from that? ‘Oh. Thank you,’ she said politely.

  ‘More so than I’ve ever seen before,’ she added. ‘He is, I believe, in love with you.’

  Kumari felt the colour rise in her cheeks.

  Helena leant forward. ‘How do you feel about him?’

  That was easy. ‘I love him.’

  Helena’s eyes searched hers. ‘Tell me, Kumari, how do you like the life here in Kensington? It must be different to the life of a doctor.’

  ‘I am still a doctor,’ Kumari said. ‘But life here is very different to what I’m used to.’

  ‘Do you think you could become used to it?’

  Kumari’s eyes strayed towards Ben, who was throwing the younger child in the air. ‘To be with him . . . yes.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Kumari got the impression that Helena didn’t approve of her. Or rather, that she hadn’t made up her mind whether Kumari was an acceptable match for her brother or not. Ben cast a worried glance in their direction. This afternoon was more important to him than he let on. Kumari took a sip of tea from the delicate china cup. All she could do was be herself. If the princess didn’t approve, then she and Ben would have to handle it as best they could.

  The little Princess Francesca ran up to her mother.

  ‘Can I show Kumari the new pond?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. You must. You can show Uncle Ben too.’

  ‘Oh.’ Kumari put down her tea and took the pudgy little hand that was offered to her. The little girl reached for Ben with her free hand and walked them both down to the end of the picturesque garden.

  The pond was slightly raised, with brand new brickwork.

  ‘The gardeners put frog spawn in it,’ Francesca informed them. ‘So we’ll have frogs to look for soon.’ She pointed out various bits of interesting greenery, that meant very little to Kumari. Like Ben, she feigned interest. He kept shooting glances at her over the golden head of his niece.

  Finally, when Francesca had exhausted the delights of the pond, she announced she would race them back and set off at a run. A nanny, who had been hovering not far away, set off after her.

  Ben took Kumari’s hand. ‘How did it go with Helena?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s very polite, but I don’t think she likes me much.’

  ‘Oh, she’s very protective of me. It’s a big sister thing. Give her time, she’ll defrost.’

  Kumari nodded. She didn’t have big sisters, so maybe this was normal.

  ‘Don’t be too hard on Hel.’ Ben looked at his feet. ‘When our mother died, Hel was seventeen. She . . . stepped up. Worried about me and Ophie. Helped Dad keep us in line. Made us feel loved and looked after.’ He cleared his throat. ‘She’s a bit formal, but I think she finds the ritual helps. She’s a kind soul underneath.’

  They walked a few steps in silence. Kumari tried and failed to imagine a world where she didn’t have her parents as her safety net. Ben had been thirteen when his mother died – cancer didn’t care who you were. She squeezed his hand.

  Ben’s other sister arrived a little later, with their father and stepmother. Ben introduced them all to Kumari. They were a lot warmer towards her than she’d expected.

  ‘It’s splendid that Benedict has finally met someone,’ the Prince of Wales said, smiling. ‘Yes, yes, Francesca. I’m coming.’ He gave Kumari an apologetic shrug as he and his wife were dragged off by Princess Francesca to see the new pond.

  ‘And this is my other sister, Ophelia,’ said Ben.

  Ophelia was a whirlwind of energy and fashionable colour. She kissed Kumari on the cheek and said, ‘So you’re the mystery woman who’s got our Ben all loved up. So lovely to meet you. I’ve never seen him so loopy over anyone before.’

  Ben gave Kumari a look that said he was mortified by this description. Kumari liked Ophelia immediately.

  ‘You must call me Ophie.’ Formality was dismissed. Ophelia was much more like Ben in her attitude. She sat down next to her sister and was immediately sat upon by the toddler princess, who was given Ophelia’s clutch bag to play with. ‘Oh, there’s nothing in it,’ said Ophelia. ‘Just a hanky and some cough sweets.’ She shifted the child into a more comfortable position and leant across to Kumari.

  ‘So, how are you finding it? Is it frightfully stiff around here for you?’

  ‘It . . . er . . . is a bit of a learning curve,’ Kumari said diplomatically.

  ‘I bet it is,’ Ophelia replied. ‘A lot of the stuff we’re used to must look like complete nonsense to an outsider.’

  ‘Ophelia.’ Helena gave her sister a stern glare, which she ignored.

  ‘So you and Benedict met at a charity thing, is that right?’

  ‘I fell in love with her pretty much at first sight,’ said Ben. ‘But she was a little distracted at the time and I had to do a bit of work to get her to come on a date with me.’

  ‘And then?’ said Ophelia, expertly manoeuvring around her niece to pick up her tea.

  Ben sat on the arm of Kumari’s chair. ‘Then I had to work even harder to get her to agree to meet me again. And the rest . . . worked out pretty well.’

  Kumari looked up at him and smiled. Ophelia was so friendly it was hard not to relax. She could see that they were more similar in outlook than the austere Helena, despite Helena and Ben being similar in looks. Mind you, Helena was the oldest and would have been groomed to be heir at some point, whereas the other two were, as Ben had once put it, ‘the spares to the heir’.

  They were still talking when Ben suddenly jumped. He swore loudly and doubled up, a hand clutched to his eye.

  Francesca, who was just running back from the pond, was horrified. ‘Mama, Uncle Ben said—’

  ‘Yes, yes, darling. Ben, what is the matter?’

  ‘Blasted thing flew into my eye.’ More cursing.

  Kumari stood up. ‘Let me see.’

  He pushed her away, still muttering.

  Without thinking, she slipped into doctor mode. ‘Please can someone get me some plain water?’ She turned to Ben. ‘Sit down. Let me look.’ She turned him so that there was a chair behind him and pressed him down firmly. He sat.

  She spoke softly and soothingly. ‘It’s OK. I won’t hurt you. Let me see.’ He stopped swearing and let her move his hand away from his eye.

  ‘Look up.’ She pulled his eyelid up, keeping up a steady monologue in a soothing tone. There was a small insect in his eye. Someone handed her a glass of water. She glanced at it to check that it was OK and used it to rinse the bug out of his eye. He pulled away from her.

  ‘Don’t rub it.’ She caught his hand. With her free hand she cupped the side of his face. ‘Now blink. That’s it. Now, how is it?’

  He blinked carefully and looked up at her with a look of such pathetic gratitude that she melted just a little. She gave him a quick kiss. ‘OK now?’

  Ben mouthed, ‘Thank
you,’ and put his hand over hers. Somewhere behind her, Ophelia said, ‘Well, she seems a practical sort. Let’s keep this one.’

  Chapter 11

  The Times Echo

  Is Prince Benedict finally settling down?

  Prince Benedict, the liveliest member of the royal family, is well known for his love of a good party, but keen Benedict-watchers will have noticed that he hasn’t been in the news for some time. The prince who, in the past, has been linked to a series of high society ladies, and been a familiar face at top-end nightclubs has been keeping a low profile of late. Rumour has it that the prince has finally found love.

  But who is this mystery woman who is said to have captured the prince’s heart?

  Photo caption: Prince Benedict dances at Cowes last year.

  Kumari checked the address on the page she’d ripped out of the message pad in the kitchen. Yes, this was the place all right. It appeared to be an ordinary townhouse with a white door. She ran up the steps and rang the doorbell. She was let in by a man wearing a suit and gloves. He took her name and asked for some ID, which he checked against a book on the desk behind him. Clearly, he found her name there because he said, ‘May I take your coat, Dr Senavaka?’

  She handed over her coat. To her surprise, she was also asked to hand over her mobile phone. A sign on the wall told her that mobile phones were prohibited. She sighed and handed it over and filled in the small card to go with it. The man gave her a receipt with the model of the phone and the phone number written on it.

  He led her through to a lounge with faded, cloth-covered sofas and William Morris wallpaper. She was reminded of a well-used stately home. ‘The gentlemen are waiting for you in here, madam.’ He indicated a door, through which she could see a polished bar.

  Ben was standing at the bar, with his back to her, chatting to another man in a suit. When she walked in, the other man’s head rose.

  Ben turned. ‘Kumari.’ He came over, kissed her cheek and wrapped an arm around her. ‘This is Rhodri, a friend from university,’ he said. ‘Rodders, this is Kumari.’

 

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