The day dragged on. Even 20/20 cricket matches took a long time. The crowd in the VIP tent thinned. Kumari excused herself to go to the toilet and on the way back, she spotted someone familiar. Ruby? She did a quick double-take. Yes, it was Ruby, standing next to Greg Frankish. Should she say hello? She changed course to go towards them. As she approached, she realised that they were holding hands. Something about this nagged at her. She stopped to work out what it was.
Ruby was going out with Greg. One by one things clicked into place. Ruby was going out with Greg. Greg was a photographer, not above doing something like . . . waiting for Kumari and taking photos of her using a long-range lens when she was entering a private club. Lucy had mentioned that Ruby kept popping round. Kumari had a sudden image of the message pad in the kitchen of the flat. She had written down the name and postcode of the club and the date and time. She hadn’t bothered to hide it. Why would she? If Ruby had been in the flat, she could have seen it.
The timeline fell into place. Ruby, who was the only other person to have reason to suspect that Kumari was seeing Benedict, must have told Greg when and where she would be meeting Ben. Greg had taken several photos. One as she arrived and one as she and Ben left. He had deliberately released the blurry photo first to whip up interest. And then, when everyone was wondering who she was, he sold the clear photo. Since every newspaper then reprinted his original photos of her and Ben at the charity event, he must have been paid for those again too.
Because of the greed of two people, she had been chased out of her home and her parents had been harassed. She stormed towards them.
‘It was you,’ she said, coming to halt beside Ruby.
Ruby jumped. ‘Kumari. Hi.’
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Kumari hissed in an undertone. ‘You told him and he revealed my identity to the press.’
Greg turned. ‘Hello, Kumari. Nice to see you.’ He smiled. ‘Surely, you don’t begrudge me the chance to make a little money by doing my job. I am a journalist first and foremost.’
She bit back a comment on what else he was and focused her attention on Ruby. ‘I thought we were friends.’
Ruby had the decency to look uncomfortable. ‘I went to so much trouble to line up PR for the charity event and all the papers wanted to talk about was you. No matter what I did, your story stole the limelight.’
‘So you thought you’d get your own back? By throwing the full horror of the media spotlight on me? Have you any idea what you’ve done?’ said Kumari. ‘We hadn’t got the security arrangements in place when it broke. My parents were harassed. They had to be rescued by their neighbours. I had to leave my job and move out of my flat. Lucy had to have security on standby. What the hell did you have against my parents? Or Lucy?’
Ruby’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. ‘I didn’t—’
‘You didn’t think!’ said Kumari. ‘To you it was just a game. A stupid tit for tat.’
‘Don’t be such a sanctimonious cow,’ Greg hissed. ‘So, you had to move out of your place and into a luxury apartment at the royal family’s expense. Oh boohoo. You’re going out with a prince, sweetheart. The press goes with the territory.’ He grinned. ‘Speaking of which . . .’
Before she could react he had lifted his camera and taken her photo.
‘You—’
‘What?’ said Greg. He took a step closer to her.
Danielle stepped up so that she was between Kumari and Greg. She didn’t say anything, but her mere presence made Greg step back.
Kumari’s gaze went from Greg to Ruby. ‘I hope you’re pleased with yourselves,’ she said. She nodded to Danielle, turned and walked away.
A few seconds later, she heard a breathless, ‘Kumari.’ She turned to see Ruby, looking worried.
‘What?’
‘You aren’t going to tell the charity, are you?’
Kumari looked beyond Ruby’s shoulder and recognised the man who had come to wish Greg luck the night they did their initial pitch. The chairman of the Better for All board and his wife.
‘How come Greg is so close to the chairman?’ she asked.
‘Alumni of the same school,’ said Ruby. ‘Greg did some portrait photos for the chairman’s wedding anniversary and he invited us to this as a thank you.’ She glanced over her shoulder, looking worried. ‘Seriously, Kumari, are you going to tell them? Because it won’t look good on me, but, more importantly, it’s not right that a stupid mistake on my part should have an impact on Greg’s project.’
‘It’s not just a stupid mistake on your part, is it?’ said Kumari. ‘I bet he offered you something. What was it? Did he offer to take you with him if he won?’
Ruby’s face reddened, but she didn’t reply.
‘Oh, Ruby,’ said Kumari. ‘You know he was just using you. He made a lot of money from selling those photographs. And, if he got you to go around slagging me off within the charity, he would be making sure his project got funded too.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Ruby. ‘Greg and I are in love.’
‘You keep telling yourself that,’ said Kumari.
‘It’s not relevant anyway,’ said Ruby. ‘What is relevant is what you’re going to do.’
Kumari sighed. ‘Nothing. I’m not going to stoop to your level. All the projects shortlisted are great causes. The proposals went in last week and if my project gets funded, it has to be on its own merit. So you’re safe. Don’t worry. I just wish I could say the same about my friends and family.’ There was a cheer from the viewing stand. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’
She walked away again. This time, Ruby didn’t follow her. Danielle fell into step beside her. ‘Are you OK, ma’am?’
‘Yes.’ Kumari looked at the other woman and smiled. ‘Thank you for intervening.’
‘It’s my job.’
‘Even so,’ said Kumari. ‘I appreciate it.’
Danielle gave her a tiny half-smile and dropped back a step to follow her at a distance again.
Chapter 20
The Aurora Post
Prince and Kumari go to Frieze Art Fair, amidst rumours of an imminent royal engagement
Prince Benedict and his girlfriend, Kumari, have been to the opening of this year’s Frieze Art Fair. They were seen together, unusually for a royal couple, holding hands. Kumari wore an orange and russet dress with Indian-inspired detailing designed by a relatively unknown designer, Sheena Kass, paired with shoes and a hat from the high street store Zara. The couple seemed relaxed and happy and were even spotted kissing.
Rumours abound that an engagement will be announced soon.
Amma and Thatha finally came to visit for the weekend. Ben had invited them to stay in his apartment, and Kumari temporarily moved into the smaller, third bedroom, so that she could be with them. They had decided against her staying in Ben’s room, which is where she normally stayed. How strange that she still felt that way. She and Shane, as a married couple, had shared a bedroom when they visited her parents, so why would she feel odd about sharing with Ben? She shook her head. Best not to dig too deep.
Ben was out when they arrived, so Kumari had a few minutes alone with them before they met him.
They stood in the sitting room, holding their bags, looking hopelessly out of place in the large room. Kumari suddenly felt the immense awkwardness of the situation. It was so painful to see their discomfort that she wanted to cry. ‘I’ll show you round,’ she said.
‘This bag has food,’ said Amma hesitantly, pointing to a large cool bag. ‘I brought your favourite.’
The feeling of wanting to cry intensified. Her eyes hurt with the effort of holding back tears. ‘I’ll put it in the kitchen.’ She grabbed the bag and carried it through. They followed her, padding quietly in their socks.
‘Oh, my word,’ said Amma when she saw the kitchen. This room, with the adjoining open-plan dining room, was as big as their whole house. Kumari had got so used to it now, she’d stopped noticing.
&
nbsp; Thatha looked like he was trying not to touch anything. They both looked so uncomfortable. She had to do something. She put the kettle on. ‘Tea? Was the journey OK?’
‘Yes,’ her mother said. ‘It was very kind of Ben to send a car. Thank him for us.’
‘He’s at a meeting,’ she said. ‘He’ll be back soon.’ She opened the fridge and put the food in, packed carefully in Tupperware and used margarine tubs. The bag smelt of her years at uni, when her parents would swoop by to visit, bringing enough food to feed her for a week. Or when she was married to Shane, he was always delighted when she had food from home. And later, when she and Shane split up, she had always been sent home with a backpack full of food parcels that she froze to eat when she came back off a night shift and couldn’t be bothered to cook. Her entire life history was punctuated with these meals from home. And now, for the first time, she was in a place where they didn’t fit.
She turned back to them and they were standing exactly where she’d left them. Still not touching anything.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes. This is very . . .’ Amma waved a hand. ‘Posh.’
‘It is,’ she said. Because it was. ‘But it’s OK.’ She felt strange saying that. ‘Please, sit down. Please.’
Her father seemed to snap out of his trance. He pulled a tall stool out for her mother and then took one himself.
Kumari made them tea, in mugs rather than teacups because they looked like they needed a proper cuppa.
They discussed the journey down and the arrangements that had been made to keep an eye on the house while they were ‘down south’. Then the conversation slowed to silence. They sipped tea to cover up the gap where conversation would normally flow.
Kumari heard the buzz of the front door unlocking. She had never been so happy to hear anything in her life.
‘That’s Ben,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go and check everything’s OK.’ She fled to the front hall.
Ben had hung up his coat and was pulling off his gloves.
‘Are they here?’
She nodded. Her eyes filled with tears. Ben threw his gloves onto the side table and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘It feels so weird. They look so out of place and . . . it’s weirding me out a bit.’
He looked puzzled, but made no comment. ‘Let me come and say hello.’ He took her hand. ‘Come on. It’s bound to be a bit strange at first.’
He was charming with them, like he was with everyone. He shook hands and made small talk, leaning against the counter. He told them a joke about the meeting he’d been in that afternoon. Kumari made him a tea and watched her mother be charmed. Her father, ever the thoughtful one, was reserved and polite. Slowly, slowly, the knot of tension in her chest loosened and the urgent need to cry drained away.
*
That evening, they decided to eat Amma’s food. Kumari found dishes and helped her mother take everything out of the boxes to heat it up. Ben gave Kumari a curious glance when he saw the margarine tubs.
‘Amma brought dinner,’ she told him.
He popped the lid of one of the containers and peered inside. ‘Home-made curry?’ he said, eyes shining.
‘Yes,’ said Amma.
‘Brilliant!’ He opened another one. ‘What’s this one?’
‘Brinjal,’ Amma said. ‘Sorry, you call it aubergine.’
He examined the tub. ‘How did you make it?’ He sniffed. ‘Smells amazing.’
Amma launched into the basic recipe. Ben asked questions, his love of cooking coming to the fore. Soon they were discussing the merits of adding just a touch of puréed garlic right at the end of cooking.
Kumari glanced over at her father, who was watching Ben talking food with Amma. He gave her a small smile.
‘Do we need cutlery?’ Amma asked, when Kumari handed a stack of warmed plates to her father.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Thatha. He glanced at Ben. ‘We should.’
‘How would you normally eat?’ said Ben. ‘With fingers?’
Kumari nodded.
‘Let’s do that then. You’ll have to teach me how to do it without making a mess.’
The Senavakas looked at each other. Kumari felt the deep discomfort returning. ‘I don’t know . . .’
‘Oh, come on. I’m sure it tastes better when eaten the proper way,’ said Ben.
Kumari hesitated. Her father said, ‘It does actually taste better. Things get mixed better, if you see what I mean.’ He made a mixing motion with his hands to illustrate.
Ben slipped into a chair. There was a brief moment of stasis when Kumari gestured to her parents that they should serve themselves first. They both glanced at Ben, who said, ‘Excuse me a minute. I forgot to get some water for the table.’
Kumari suppressed a smile. It was a neat way to avert an awkward situation.
Amma served the rice for Thatha first and herself, just like she had done for as long as Kumari could remember. Kumari let Ben sort his own dinner out.
Ben had a good go at mixing the curries in with the rice.
‘But how do you stop it falling apart?’ he said, mashing his food together with a look of earnest concentration.
‘Here, like this.’ Amma demonstrated.
He took it in good spirit, being coached on eating technique by three people who had never had to worry about how to do it. He managed quite well, even if his place setting looked as if it had been attacked by a toddler by the end of the meal.
Kumari used her clean hand to rub his back. ‘Pretty good going for a first-timer,’ she said. ‘You’ll improve.’
‘We’re going to have to practise,’ he said. He picked up his plate, that had been polished clean of any food. ‘That was delicious. I thought I’d had curry before, but that was out of this world.’
Amma looked pleased. Ah Ben. Always so quick with a kind word. Kumari’s heart swelled.
By the time they went to bed, everyone seemed to have unwound a little, although there was still a wariness about her parents and Kumari couldn’t fully relax. She went to check that they had everything they needed.
‘He is a very nice young man,’ Amma said.
‘I’m glad you like him.’ It was a relief that they did. Amma didn’t reply. Instead she took Kumari’s face in her hands and pulled her down so that she could kiss the top of her head. ‘Thunsaranai, my baby,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’
Kumari felt the urge to cry return.
Her parents were so ill at ease, it was clear that they didn’t fit in. They would not be comfortable here. At the same time, Ben made no effort to take them round the palace. It was as though he sensed how misplaced they were and didn’t want to make things worse. It occurred to her, briefly, that he might be hiding them from his wider family. Or perhaps protecting them. She couldn’t be sure which.
The next evening he took them to a club for dinner. They had a private room. It was stiff and formal and strange. All in all, Kumari was glad when the visit was over. She loved her parents and she loved Ben. Seeing how far apart their two worlds were tied her up in knots.
When they called to say they’d got home safely, she asked Amma what she thought. Amma said, ‘He clearly makes you happy. And he seems to love you very much. If this is what you want, my Kumari, you should take this with both hands.’
Kumari could sense the words that weren’t being said.
‘Amma. What’s bothering you? Something is. I know.’
‘We don’t fit in that world, darling, you can see that. When you marry him, we will lose you. With Shane, we could pretend we were gaining a son-in-law, rather than losing a daughter . . . but with Ben, it’s impossible. We will lose you.’
‘But why? You can visit—’
‘But you could never visit us. How would that work with the security necessity? We could come to you and stay in a room in your mansion and play with your children without ever meeting his side of the family. But your children could never come to
stay with us. We would be the forgotten grandparents.’ She sighed. ‘Please don’t misunderstand. I haven’t got anything against Ben. Or your choice to be with him. I’m just pointing out what’s bothering us. Because you asked.’
She had no response to that because she was pretty sure they were right. She said her goodbyes, hung up and put her head in her hands. Tears slid between her fingers. Ben found her like that, sitting on the bed. He gently gathered her up in his arms and held her until the sobs subsided.
When she explained to him what was wrong, he hugged her closer, but had nothing to say that would make her feel better.
Chapter 21
The Witness Reporter
Royals open new hospital for wounded service personnel
Princess Helena and Prince Benedict today opened a hospital with a wing specialising in physiotherapy and the rehabilitation of soldiers wounded while on active duty. The prince was shown the state-of-the-art physiotherapy suite and spoke at length with the mental health support team. The hospital is funded by the Princesses and Prince Foundation and by three charities that work together to support wounded members of the armed forces.
The princess, in her opening speech, spoke of the importance of coordinating medical services while her brother, himself once a serving soldier in the army, spoke about the key role played by mental health services in preparing soldiers who had endured trauma in battle to return to civilian life.
The evening after her parents left, Kumari called Lucy.
‘Oh, hello, stranger,’ Lucy said. ‘How’s life among the glitterati?’
Kumari sighed. ‘Not as glittery as you’d think.’ She looked around the kitchen in Ben’s apartment. She had barely been out of this place for weeks. Even when she did it was with someone to mind her. She didn’t need a minder.
‘Do you want to meet for a drink?’ she said. ‘Please?’
‘Are you allowed?’
‘That’s the very reason why I have to come out and meet you.’
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