‘It must be hard for him,’ Amma continued. ‘He’s a prince. You’re just a regular person. You don’t understand the conflicts that affect him and he won’t understand the conflicts that affect you. My parents felt that your father wasn’t right for me until we proved them wrong. He wasn’t from the same station in life as them. He wasn’t known in their circles. Things that were important to them and their social circle weren’t important to him. They wanted me to find someone who would fit seamlessly into their lives and the plans they had for me.’ She sighed. ‘It’s never fun when your family are disappointed in your life choices.’
Disappointed. That was such a loaded emotion. Suddenly, the weariness in Ben’s voice made sense. No wonder he was hurt. And here she was giving him grief about her work.
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘When I used to cry about missing my family, your Thatha used to say to me that people cling to the things that give them meaning. Ben’s family have had power and money for generations. In the past they will have married to make sure of more power and money. Just like my family did. It is what is expected of them, by everyone around them.’ She sighed. ‘It took my family years before they accepted change. They didn’t even meet you until you were ten years old. At least Ben’s family are trying to help you fit in, rather than trying to push him out. It seems to me they’ve come further, and faster, than would have been possible thirty, or even twenty years ago. Maybe they’re trying their best.’
‘Do you think it’s reasonable, that if Ben and I stay together and get married, I’d have to give up my job? I can’t give up my job. I’ve worked so hard to get here, I’d feel like I was throwing it away.’
‘I don’t know, darling. Only you can decide that.’
That was no help at all. ‘When you had to choose,’ said Kumari, ‘how did you decide?’
‘I tried to imagine myself in the future. A future without your father was too painful to contemplate.’
‘Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you’d chosen differently?’
‘Of course I have and no, I don’t regret it for a minute. I have you and I have your father. My family came round eventually and now I have them too.’
Kumari could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. She knew that her choice was already made.
There was the sound of her father speaking in the background.
‘Thatha says, “What’s the most important thing about being a doctor?”’ Her mother passed the message on.
‘Healing people. Making the world a better place for the sick and the suffering.’ That was easy. She’d had to think about this a lot when she applied to work with Better For All.
‘Maybe that’s what you should focus on,’ her mother suggested.
They were still chatting when Ben let himself in. Kumari said, ‘I’ve got to go, Amma, Ben’s home.’
‘Oh, say hello to him,’ Amma said. She used to say that to Shane, back in the day. It was her way of saying she accepted him.
‘I will. I love you. Bye.’
Her mother repeated the blessing she always did, ‘Thunsaranai.’ It meant ‘three blessings’. A Sinhalese Buddhist blessing that was a comfort, even though Kumari was firmly agnostic. Her father often pointed out that being Buddhist and being agnostic were not mutually exclusive, but Kumari had never given either much thought.
‘My mum says hello,’ she said to Ben while she hung up.
‘We should get them to come down and visit.’ He kissed her. ‘How have you been?’
Her gaze drifted towards the pile of newspapers.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You saw. I asked them not to deliver the papers today. I didn’t want you to get too upset.’
‘I’m not a child, Ben. Anyway, I went downstairs and asked for a paper.’
He pulled her to him and held her for a minute. ‘Oh, Kumari. I hate that this is happening.’
‘Me too.’ She buried her face in his shoulder and breathed him in. Her conversation with her mother was still resonating in her mind. She had assumed that he had nothing to lose by being in a relationship with her, but maybe she had been short-sighted.
‘Ben,’ she said, ‘are your family giving you a hard time about us . . . well, about me?’
He drew back, frowning. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Just wondering.’ She caught his gaze and held it. ‘Tell me.’
She could see that he considered lying to her but then he seemed to dismiss the thought.
‘They were a bit surprised,’ he said. ‘But considering some of the insane things I’ve done in the past, I think they were just relieved. Why? Has anyone been nasty to you?’
‘No. They’ve been the epitome of good manners,’ she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her, which was kind of sexy.
‘Good manners can be wielded like a weapon in skilled hands. I’ve seen Helena eviscerate a man with a well-aimed remark.’
‘Don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I’d have noticed.’ A moment of doubt. ‘Wouldn’t I?’
‘You. You would know. Some incredibly dense people might not, but you would.’
‘Thanks. I do try not to be incredibly dense.’
He laughed and kissed her nose.
‘So,’ he said, letting go of her. ‘Want to come and see the rooms I’ve secured for you?’
‘Sure. Let me just put my stuff in a bag.’
A few minutes later, they were walking out through the entrance to Ben’s building. He had suggested that walking around the outside would give her a better idea of where it was. They walked past the road that led to the gatehouse and around the building. When they reached the entrance to the gardens, now devoid of tourists, Ben produced a key and let them in, locking the gate carefully behind him. They walked hand in hand through the dark, silent gardens until they came to smaller gate that led to a wide walkway, with green hedges to one side and a tall wall on the other. Kumari realised from the traffic noise that beyond the wall was a busy road. She tried to mentally position herself on a map.
They came to another gatehouse and another building that was a less grand version of the one Ben lived in.
A concierge sat behind a desk. He sprang to his feet when he saw them.
‘Hi. Is there a packet of keys for me to pick up?’ Ben asked.
The concierge found an envelope containing keys and paperwork and handed it over. Ben thanked him and ushered Kumari up the stairs.
The corridors were less opulent here, but still plush. Ben took her to a door on the third floor. It had a keypad next to it. ‘Here we are,’ he said. He opened the envelope and tipped the contents into his hand. Three keys slid out. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘These are yours – two garden gate keys and the keys to the great door. Your rooms will have a passcode that should be . . . aha. Here we are.’ He keyed in the code and the door clicked open.
Kumari stepped into a small sitting room. There was a desk, some shelves and a small table with two comfy chairs pulled up in front of a gas fire. Having got used to Ben’s rooms, this place looked tiny, but Kumari reminded herself that her own flat was pretty much the same size as this.
‘That’s the bedroom,’ Ben said. ‘And there’s a toilet just there. It’s not brilliant, but it’s safe and warm and I hope it’ll do.’
Kumari crossed the room and checked the bedroom, which was through a thick oak door. It was a nice room. Cosy. There was a double bed, a wardrobe and a small dressing table. It was, essentially, a small flat. It was like an old-fashioned, two-roomed set with all the dark wooden panelling, but it was more ‘normal’ than Ben’s huge apartment.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘It’s lovely,’ said Kumari. She sat on the bed and looked around. ‘I like it.’
‘There are shared kitchen facilities, I believe,’ said Ben. ‘But really, if you need anything, you can always get it from mine.’
‘It’s only for a short while,’ she said.
/> He nodded. ‘Thank you for compromising. I know you didn’t want to move in here.’
‘It’s OK. It was the sensible thing to do.’ She smiled and held her hand out to him. He took it and she pulled him onto the bed next to her.
A slow smile spread across his face. ‘Cheeky,’ he said and brought her in close for a kiss.
Chapter 14
The Witness Reporter: Comments
Black-and-blue blood!
Prince Benedict has turned his back on the high-born ladies he normally dates and is now dating Sri Lankan émigré, Kumari Senavaka. The two met at a charity event that went viral when the petite doctor was seemingly so overwhelmed by meeting the prince she fell into his arms. Clearly, this piqued his interest so much that he asked a friend to arrange a date with the exotic doctor soon after.
Sources close to the couple say that they have not been out of each other’s presence since. ‘They are apart only when one of them goes to work,’ a close friend said. ‘They seem joined at the hip. I’ve never seen infatuation like it.’
Senavaka comes from West Yorkshire, an area with a large South-East Asian population. Not somewhere a prince would usually tread.
Kumari jumped when the doorbell rang. She was in Ben’s flat after having come round for breakfast. As Ben had left earlier, he’d said, ‘I told Ophie you were bored. She said she might come round later this morning. Hope that’s OK.’
Even though it was unlikely to be anyone else, Kumari checked through the peephole before opening the door.
‘Hello, darling.’ Ophelia breezed in, bringing a waft of something pleasant and expensive with her. ‘Ben tells me you’re bored out of your lovely little mind. I’m free today, so I thought we could hang out a little.’
‘Er . . . sure.’ She followed Ophelia into the first reception room.
‘Oh,’ said Ophelia, looking around. ‘You haven’t added any touches to this place at all.’
‘I don’t actually live here,’ Kumari said
‘I’ll see if I can send some flowers over. You need something to make it less . . . blokey.’
Kumari looked at the old-fashioned sofas. They didn’t look even remotely blokey to her. She shrugged.
Ophelia put her hands together with a clap. ‘I thought it would be nice for us to get to know each other better. I’ve booked us both into my favourite spa to be pampered for a bit. I gather you’ve had a beastly time with the press. You’ll need something to take your mind off things for a bit.’
‘Oh. Right. Thank you. That sounds . . . very nice.’ She didn’t remember the last time she’d been to a spa. Actually, she did remember. She and her two bridesmaids had gone to a spa for the weekend for her hen do. It had been a tipsy, fun affair. But she’d known the girls very well. One of them was Lucy. She eyed Ophelia, with her impossibly glossy hair and permanently perky smile. She barely knew this woman.
Ben had once told her that Ophelia, underneath that upbeat smile, had a mind like a steel trap. Kumari assessed her chances of second-guessing what was going on. Not great. She was out of her depth with the social politics game. So she went for the straightforward approach. ‘What’s this all about?’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than babysit me. So why?’
Ophelia put her head to the side and gave her a thoughtful stare. The perkiness dimmed by a few notches, but remained in place. ‘OK. Since you want a direct answer . . .’ She took a step towards Kumari. ‘Contrary to whatever you might have read in those,’ she said, pointing towards the newspapers, ‘I love my brother. He is determined that you and only you can make him happy. And making you happy, makes him happy. That being the case, I want to help him. There is an ulterior motive here, Kumari. That is to make you a little glossier, a little brighter, a little bit more . . . establishment. Think of it as armour. You’ve done pretty well so far. Daddy likes you. That’s not an easy thing to have managed. But you need help. There will be a lot of people who will offer to help, but you don’t really know any of them or the games they’re playing. Whereas with me, you can be sure of one thing: I will never, ever do anything that will hurt my brother. You can trust me on that.’
The first thing that Kumari noticed was what Ophelia didn’t say. She hadn’t offered any assurance that she wouldn’t hurt Kumari if it meant it would protect Ben. That was oddly reassuring. So long as Ben loved Kumari, Ophelia would be on Kumari’s side. The moment Ben no longer needed her, she would be out. At least Ophelia was telling her the rules of engagement upfront. It was more than she was going to get from anyone else.
She smiled. ‘Let me grab a jumper and a coat.’
Ophelia beamed. ‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘I can see we’re going to be great friends.’
Funnily enough, Kumari thought so too.
*
Kumari lay in a flotation pod, in the dark. The air and water in the tank were at blood temperature. The salts in the water made her float. It was like lying in nothing. Weightless. Ophelia had assured her that it was the most relaxing experience ever. Right now, it just felt weird. It was a good job she wasn’t claustrophobic.
She closed her eyes against the darkness and listened to the watery thumps and bops in her ears. Her conversation with her mother from the day before floated into her mind. What was it that Thatha had asked? ‘What’s the most important thing about being a doctor?’
She genuinely believed her answer was an honest one. She did want to make the world a better place for the sick and the dispossessed. To lift people out of suffering. She did that every day at work – relieving pain, giving someone the means to cope with an injury until it got better, sometimes simply stitching broken skin back together. In Lesotho, she had done it in an environment where the effect was more obvious. The child whose fever broke when the antibiotics took effect. The mother who wept when her poor, dehydrated baby came back to life after being on a drip for a few days. These individual highs made up for all the sleepless nights and long hours and aching feet. She, Kumari, had made someone’s life better.
But then she thought of the queues that never got shorter, the patients who had to be seen in corridors because there were no rooms to see them in when A & E was too busy. One night, a few years before, she’d lost a patient. A young woman who could have been saved if only she’d been seen earlier. That incident affected Kumari deeply and made her question her place in the world. It was that, more than anything, that had made her join Better For All. That young woman had suffered because there weren’t enough people to help in time. There weren’t enough people because there wasn’t enough money. People wanted to help. There just weren’t enough resources in the right places. In some ways England and Lesotho suffered from the same problems.
The point of getting Benedict to come to the pitch event at Better For All was to get more media attention. To get more people to see the charity, so that more people would give and there would be more money to send resources to people who needed it. Raising awareness. Letting in the light so that the hidden problems were seen. That’s what Benedict did. In his charity work Benedict firmly believed that he was making a difference.
She moved her head and the water in the tank sploshed in the dark. The movement made her body rock gently. Shaking her and lulling her. Did Ben’s work alleviate suffering? It almost certainly did. They had often talked about the causes they felt strongly about. Hers were humanitarian and medical. His were to do with mental health, post-war reconstruction and looking after those damaged by war, be they soldiers or civilians.
She supported her charities by giving a few pounds when she could. He could support them with far more tangible grants. He could make the people who ran the initiatives account for what they spent. He could walk into a room and bring the attention of the world in with him. If she was with him, she could do that too.
Ben’s mother, when she had been alive, had been a great humanitarian. She had understood the power of a photo opportunity. The right photo of a delicate
British princess, crouching to help a refugee child pull on a pair of warm gloves, with the war-wasted landscape in the background, spoke to people in a way that a million words couldn’t. Advocacy. Scrutiny. Diplomacy. These were powerful weapons too, in the right hands.
She opened her eyes. That’s what Ben had been trying to tell her. She had more to give than her medical skills. She could make this work. Yes, this world that Ben lived in was scary and full of complex rules she didn’t understand, but it was just a system to learn. She hadn’t been born knowing how to set a broken arm. She’d learnt it. She could learn this too. She breathed in a lungful of warm air and breathed it out again. Her breath sounded loud and made the air move above her.
All right then. There was still time left for her to be in this tank. She knew she merely had to knock on the lid and they would open it for her. But Ophelia had paid for an hour. No point wasting it. She closed her eyes again and gave in to the sensation of being held. Eventually, she may even have fallen asleep.
*
‘Thank you so much, Ophelia. It’s been a lovely afternoon. I really appreciate it.’ She meant it. They were sitting in the kitchen of Ben’s apartment, because he had agreed to meet them there. She had offered Ophelia tea, and then had a momentary panic about tea sets before deciding that Ben’s usual teapot and cups would do. She had offered to bring it out into the sitting room, but Ophelia had followed her in and pulled up a stool at the breakfast bar, as though she was completely at home with the place. Since it was her little brother’s house, she probably was.
‘Oh, don’t mention it. It was a pleasure. I love a good project.’ Ophelia got out her phone and started tapping at it.
Kumari looked up from where she was filling the teapot.
‘Project?’
Ophelia nodded. ‘Of course.’ She looked up and caught her eye. ‘Did you think I was just being friendly?’
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