Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  ‘I’m bored,’ she said. ‘I need to be doing something.’

  ‘Maybe you should see if your parents want to come down to see you,’ he said. ‘I’d like to meet them, and the schools are still off, so your father’s not working. Plus, you going back to work now might be too soon.’

  She stopped grinding things. Amma had mentioned several times that she would like to meet this man she’d heard so much about. They had to meet at some point. Why not get it done sooner rather than later? Like ripping off a plaster – it would be better done fast.

  ‘But what’s your schedule like?’

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘Not too bad. Most evenings are free.’

  ‘OK.’ She gave the garlic paste one last grind and passed it across to him. ‘Shall I call them now and see if they can make it?’

  He nodded, picked up the kitchen knife again and resumed chopping.

  She picked up the white phone that was hanging on the wall, dialled nine to get an outside line and phoned home. To her surprise, her mother answered the phone after one ring.

  ‘Hi. It’s me,’ Kumari said.

  ‘Oh. Kumari. Er . . . can I call you back? We’re waiting for the police to phone us back and I don’t want to miss them.’

  Questions about why and what was going on crowded her mind, but the tension in her mother’s voice was enough to tell her that getting off the phone was more important right now. ‘OK. Call me as soon as you can. On my mobile.’ She added, ‘Are you OK?’, but her mother had already gone. She briefly caught her father’s voice before the connection cut out.

  When she turned round, she saw that Ben had paused mid-chop. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘She said she’s waiting for the police to call her back. She didn’t say why – she was anxious to get off the phone.’ She pulled her own phone out of her pocket and sent a text asking what was happening. ‘Hopefully, they can answer my text while they wait.’

  Ben frowned. He strode over to the phone and dialled a number. ‘Anton. What’s happening at Kumari’s parents’ house? Find out, please.’ He listened for a bit. ‘OK. Keep me updated. I’ll be here.’ His gaze flicked to Kumari. ‘She’ll be here too.’

  Kumari stared at her phone, willing it to buzz with a text message. Anxiety began its slow burn in her chest. Ben came over and put his arm around her.

  ‘Anton thinks the press may have found out where your parents live. He’s been working with our legal team to squash some defamatory headlines and articles from going out, but we can’t stop them publishing facts.’

  ‘Will they be OK?’ She thought of the shock of suddenly being mobbed and kept in her workplace. Were her parents trapped in their house? Were they sitting in the living room with the curtains drawn?

  Her phone finally buzzed. The text from Amma read: We are fine. Photographers and a TV van outside the close, getting in the way. There were people in the back garden. Police on their way to clear things up. We are both fine.

  She felt some of the panic drain away. They were OK, just inconvenienced. ‘It’s not fair,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m the one they should be harassing. Not my parents. I’m hiding here while my parents and the hospital are being mobbed. It’s not right.’

  Ben’s mouth was a compressed line. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s not right.’

  Kumari retrieved her drink and tapped her fingers against the work surface while she watched her phone. Ben cooked, his movements more precise and controlled than normal. He kept looking over at her phone, as though he too was waiting for it to ring.

  When it finally rang, Kumari was setting the table. She raced over to the breakfast bar and grabbed it.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she said, without preamble.

  ‘Yes, yes. We are fine,’ said her mother. ‘The police have made the press people go away now, and Mrs Webb offered to get her grandson to go to the shops for us if we need anything. The police said they’ll have a patrol car come round every so often.’

  Kumari breathed out slowly. ‘That’s good. So, what happened?’

  Ben waved at her, wanting to know what was going on.

  ‘Amma, would you mind if I put you on speakerphone? So that Ben can hear you too?’

  There was a pause, then, ‘Of course. It would be nice to speak to him too.’

  She put the phone down, speaker phone on. ‘OK.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Ben. ‘This is Ben. It’s nice to speak to you.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Amma. ‘Um . . . Your Highness?’

  ‘Oh, no need to call me that. Just Ben will do.’

  ‘OK . . .’ Kumari could almost hear her fighting the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end.

  ‘So, what happened?’ asked Kumari, anxious to get the conversation back on track.

  ‘Well, I went to work this morning. Everything was normal then. Your father went into town mid-morning and stayed until it was time to pick me up. When we came home, there were people – not many, just a cluster of people – at the top of the road and they started taking photos. We had to get the shopping out of the car and these two men, one with a microphone and the other with a camera, came up and started trying to talk to us about you. They asked if we were your parents. I said yes. Then Thatha said not to talk to him and we went inside. They banged on the door . . . and there have been people banging on the door every so often all evening.’

  Kumari glared at the phone. How could they harass two innocent people like that? She looked up at Ben and saw that his jaw was clenched so hard that a muscle was twingeing in his cheek.

  ‘Was there anything else?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Um . . . a couple of men jumped over the fence into the back garden and tried to look in through the windows. I opened the curtain and there were two cameras pointing at me. We called the police again and they said this time they could do something.’ Her voice got tighter and tighter, until, by the end of the sentence, she sounded high-pitched.

  Kumari sensed there was more.

  Thatha’s voice came on. ‘Kumari, are you safe? If it’s like this for us, I dread to think how much they’re hounding you.’

  ‘I . . . I’m not at home. I’ve rented a room so that they leave Lucy alone. I’m staying in Kensington. It’s very safe here.’

  If her father had any opinions on that, he didn’t voice them. ‘There’s all sorts of people talking about you and us on the telly. There was even a bit on North News. There are people claiming to know us who I’ve never heard of.’

  Kumari looked up at Ben, who had gone very still. His eyes were narrowed and focused. He looked a little scary. His gaze met hers briefly.

  Ben said, ‘I’m sorry you’ve been put through this. I genuinely am. I’m going to see if I can call in some security to keep people off your close, at the very least.’

  ‘There was . . . something else,’ said her father. ‘Sometime while we were out, someone put things through the letterbox.’

  ‘Things?’ said Kumari.

  ‘A racist note . . . uh . . . and some poo.’

  ‘What?’ Kumari bit back the swear word that first came to mind. Thirty years of not swearing in front of her parents and she wasn’t about to start now.

  ‘Did you hand it over to the police?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Well, not the poo . . . we put that in the bin.’

  ‘Perfectly reasonable,’ said Ben. He caught Kumari’s eye and seemed to be asking something. She frowned, puzzled. Ben did a small eye roll.

  ‘I was wondering,’ he said carefully, still maintaining eye contact with Kumari, ‘would you like to come and visit us?’

  Finally Kumari understood. This would get them away from their home. People would lose interest in a few days. It would also allow Ben to get to know them.

  ‘In . . . Kensington Palace?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘I have access to rooms you can stay in.’ There was silence from the other end of the line. They must be thinking about it.

&nb
sp; ‘Maybe, if you have a conversation about it and speak to Kumari,’ Ben said. ‘I think it might be a good idea for you to get away as soon as possible and stay out of the public eye for a few days.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Thatha said. ‘That is a very kind offer. Let us get back to you.’

  Ben excused himself and Kumari took the phone off speaker and spoke to her parents alone.

  ‘He seems very nice,’ her father said. ‘Your mother wants to know if you’ve spoken to Lucy.’

  ‘Not since yesterday.’ Oh God. If they’d found her parents, what if they’d found Lucy too? ‘I’ll call her as soon as I’ve finished speaking to you.’

  By the time she hung up, she could hear Ben on the phone in the kitchen. He was asking Anton to arrange security for her parents, as promised. Then he started talking in hushed tones and took the phone with him into the bedroom and shut the door. What was that all about?

  She quickly called Lucy and was relieved to hear all was well with her. When she’d finished, she heard Ben say, ‘I know it’s not protocol, but I must insist.’

  She stepped out into the corridor, wondering whether she should really be eavesdropping. While she dithered, half in, half out of the kitchen, he said, ‘What, now? OK, yes. Informal, yes? Thirty minutes.’

  She took a step firmly into the hallway, so that she was standing outside the room when he marched out.

  ‘What’s in thirty minutes?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ve got five minutes to spruce up and then we’ve got to get across to the main palace. We’re going to see Grandma.’

  Kumari gave a little squeak. She was in jeans and a button-down shirt. ‘I can’t meet the queen dressed like this!’

  ‘You have to. She has a window in her schedule. She’s willing to meet us. We won’t get this chance again.’ He went back into the room and ran a comb through his hair and tucked his shirt in.

  Kumari hastily did the same.

  Ben was practically jumping up and down with impatience. He grabbed her hand.

  ‘Do we need coats?’

  ‘Grab one, you can put it on in the car.’ He pulled the door shut behind him and set off at a pace. The car was waiting for them at the gatehouse.

  When they got to Buckingham Palace, Ben jumped out and rushed in, barely stopping to acknowledge the staff, as he normally would. Kumari had to almost jog to keep up. They speed-walked through corridors, which all looked identical to her.

  Eventually, they arrived at the foot of the enormous main staircase. She had seen this on TV.

  A man in a suit stood at the top, looking at his watch. ‘Two minutes to spare, Your Highness,’ he said to Benedict. ‘Well done.’

  Both Ben and Kumari were breathing heavily from having run there. Ben raised his hand to ask for a minute, then said, ‘Is she able to see us?’

  ‘Yes.’ The man turned and walked away. Kumari followed Ben up the wide stairs, fighting the overwhelming urge to stare at the opulence of it. The man led them into an oak-panelled room with two sofas and an enormous flower arrangement in it.

  ‘Please. Do take a seat.’

  Kumari sat and tried to catch her breath, willing herself not to break out into a sweat.

  ‘I hate that guy,’ Ben muttered. ‘He’s incredibly efficient, but he still treats me like I’m ten.’

  ‘Ben, what’s going on?’

  He looked strung out. Nervous in a way she’d never seen him before. ‘I’m asking for a formal statement to be made asking the press to stop the more racist aspect of their reporting and to give you and your family a break. Before I do that, I need my granny’s permission to . . . well, formally be associated with you.’

  ‘You say the most romantic things.’

  He managed a tiny smile. ‘I’m sorry. I realise it’s weird. Some things, just are.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s tradition. Right?’

  Before he could answer, the door to the adjoining room opened and the same man as before came in. ‘Her Majesty will see you now.’

  The room was lined with books from floor to ceiling. There was a fireplace, which had another enormous flower arrangement in it. There were a couple of comfy chairs. At the far end of the table was an huge desk. The queen sat behind it, reading paperwork. She smiled when they entered.

  Benedict bowed. Kumari curtsied.

  The dogs came up to greet them. One of them put his paws on her leg so Kumari could scratch his head, as though he knew she was an old friend.

  The queen seemed to note this with some amusement. She didn’t ask them to sit, so they remained standing. Clearly, she intended this to be a formal meeting. She picked up her pen and said, ‘So, Kumari. How are you finding your time in Kensington?’

  Caught off guard, Kumari glanced at Ben before saying, ‘It’s very nice, thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘Nice? Anything more?’

  She took a deep breath. Well, if she was going to be pushed on it. ‘Very safe and secure. But also a little restrictive.’

  She nodded. ‘I don’t disagree.’ She put her pen down and levelled her gaze at Kumari. ‘Tell me, my dear, what religion are you?’

  Next to her Ben winced and closed his eyes.

  ‘I don’t have one, ma’am. Although I was brought up Buddhist.’

  ‘Atheist, eh?’

  ‘Agnostic. I don’t have enough faith to be an atheist.’

  Ben gave a soft groan.

  The queen glanced at her grandson. ‘Not enough faith to be an atheist?’ she said.

  ‘To be an atheist I’d have to believe that there isn’t a God. As an agnostic, I’m not sure either way. I’m ambivalent about the existence of a God and I don’t much like the trappings of organised religion.’

  ‘But you’ve chosen Benedict. He is the grandson of the Defender of the Faith.’

  Kumari shot a glance a Ben. ‘I don’t hold that against him.’ There was a moment of tense silence. One of the dogs huffed. The queen’s mouth twitched. ‘I see Benedict has chosen a partner in the image of his mother.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kumari saw Ben breathe out and smile. She had clearly passed some sort of test. She smiled too.

  The queen’s gaze turned to Ben. ‘Your suggestion, Benedict. We have here the message you left. This is unorthodox, but given the circumstances . . . a good idea.’ She turned her attention back to Kumari. ‘It has been a pleasure to see you again, Kumari.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Was she being dismissed?

  ‘If you would wait in the next room for two minutes, please,’ she said. ‘We would like a word with young Benedict.’

  ‘Of course.’

  The dog, who had settled at her feet, yapped at her. She gave it a quick pat and left the room.

  The anteroom was empty, so she sank into one of the sofas and tried to work out what had just happened. Whatever it was, it had gone well. She looked at her hands and saw they were shaking. The beads of sweat that had been threatening since she got there broke out and trickled down the nape of her neck. The door opened and Ben reappeared. He closed the door quietly, took a few steps towards her and grinned.

  Kumari stood up.

  ‘You were amazing.’ He closed the space between them and hugged her.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.

  ‘Marry me?’ he asked.

  She laughed.

  ‘Actually,’ Ben said, as he took her hand in his. ‘I’m not joking.’

  ‘Oh.’ Kumari’s heart galloped in her chest. Was this it? Even though they’d joked about it, part of her hadn’t really believed it could happen.

  Ben cleared his throat and went down on one knee. He was still holding her hand. His eyes met hers. Kumari felt her knees weaken.

  ‘I don’t have the ring ready yet, but, Kumari Senavaka, will you marry me?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, of course I will.’ She leant forward and kissed him. He stood up, still kissing her back. It was a fe
w minutes before they parted. Kumari felt as though her whole body was made of bubbles. Happiness fizzed and popped in her veins.

  A discreet cough made them pull apart. The same man as before was standing in the doorway.

  ‘Yes, yes, we’re going,’ Benedict said. He paused. ‘Just one second.’ He rushed back and, despite the protest from the man in the suit, opened the door and popped his head round it. ‘She said yes,’ he said.

  Kumari heard the queen laugh and say something. Benedict returned, grinning. ‘Her Majesty says congratulations,’ he said. He slung his arm around Kumari and drew her close. Together they walked back to where the car was waiting for them.

  Chapter 17

  Fast Light News

  ‘Leave my girlfriend alone,’ says prince

  Prince Benedict has released a statement to the press saying that he is increasingly alarmed by the racist nature of press coverage relating to his girlfriend, Kumari Senavaka. Like his decision to date the divorced doctor, this statement is a break with tradition. The prince explained that he felt it was warranted due to the intrusive nature of the press’s behaviour towards his girlfriend and her family and friends. ‘The level of intrusion and the tone of reporting has been indefensible. These people should be allowed to live their lives,’ he said.

  [Link: Read the statement in full]

  The Times Echo

  Prince Benedict’s unprecedented request to the press to stop harassing his girlfriend

  A statement released by Kensington Palace on behalf of the prince, who is sixth in line to the throne, requests that the press and public respect the privacy of those connected with the thirty-year-old doctor, who was unable to go to work due to the disruption caused by press and members of the public attempting to get a glimpse of her outside St Kildare’s Hospital.

  Dr Senavaka has had to close down all her social media accounts because of the number of abusive messages and death threats she was receiving.

  ‘These people should be allowed to live their lives,’ the prince said in his statement.

  Princess Ophelia was asked by well-wishers how she felt about her brother’s new flame. She smiled and said she was simply delighted. Speculation is rife that there may be a royal engagement very soon.