Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  The wave of jealousy that coursed through her at that surprised even her. The idea of seeing photos of Ben standing on the famous balcony with some other woman made her feel physically ill. ‘He would?’

  ‘He’d have to,’ said Ophelia. ‘You don’t understand, Kumari. We had a chance to change things. You blew it for us all.’

  ‘I’m not a lab rat for your social experiment.’ Lab rat. That was what it felt like. Being watched and tested all the time.

  Ophelia swore. An incongruous sound when said in such a posh accent. ‘It’s not just about you, or us. Just think how you could have influenced things. You were a wild card. No one knew what you could have got away with. You could say things that I can’t say and Helena can’t even hint at. Your charities – educating girls, improving childhood survival rates in the Third World, better funding for midwives on the NHS. You could have influenced them all. Benedict wasn’t offering you trappings. He was offering you genuine power, if you had the balls to take it.’

  ‘I didn’t want to be with Ben because of any of those things. I was with him because I love him.’

  Ophelia gave a small huffing sound. ‘And you’re now running away from him because . . . ?’

  Kumari had no answer to that. She still loved him. She knew that and so did Ophelia, apparently. She had screwed up.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Ophelia. ‘Think about what you’re doing, Kumari. We’ll try to keep it out of the media for as long as we can, but it won’t be long. You don’t get a second shot at this.’

  ‘Tell Ben—’ She needed him to know she was sorry.

  ‘No. I won’t be telling him anything. He said he’d told you he wouldn’t contact you. You can trust him on that. Ben never goes back on his word, stubborn muppet that he is. If you want to tell him anything, you have to tell him yourself.’

  ‘I suppose that’s fair.’

  ‘Fair has nothing to do with it,’ said Ophelia.

  ‘Ophelia,’ said Kumari. ‘For what it’s worth, I genuinely enjoyed being your friend.’

  ‘Me too. Now think on it. Do the right thing.’

  *

  Kumari wasn’t sure how long she sat there thinking, telephone in hand and newspapers spread around her. The sound of the post dropping through the letterbox made her jump. Wearily, she got up to fetch it.

  There was more hate mail. She hurled it into the box. It tore at her that her parents had to go through this. They hadn’t even told her the scale of it until she showed up at home. They were willing to put up with it for her happiness. Ben was probably putting up with a lot too. Being made to look like a fool didn’t sound so bad, but when you saw it in the context where saving face was everything, it mattered a great deal.

  She looked at the photographs on the mantelpiece. Her graduation photo, a picture of her with a stethoscope around her neck. A photo of her laughing in a teashop the weekend after her divorce went through. A photo of her and the team at the vaccination clinic. Even a newspaper clipping of her at the Golden Globes. Her parents collected photos of her triumphs. She had done all of those things. None of them had been particularly easy, but she’d lived through them and got things done. What had happened to her?

  Ophelia was right. She had been given power and influence. She could use that to change the world. Wasn’t that the plan she’d had with such clarity at the spa? How had she lost sight of that? But had she left it all behind because she was too chicken to fully commit to it? Because she was too concerned about other people’s opinions to go and change the world?

  She thought of the postcards. ‘Go back to where you came from you Pakis.’ No. She was better than this. She wasn’t going to let them win.

  Would Ben take her back? Would the rest of the royal family? Ophelia, maybe. Helena would probably stake her for hurting Ben, but, when it mattered, she’d be there for her. For all their talk about the institution of monarchy being bigger than any of them, Ben and his family knew when to take a stand. They’d taken a stand for her. All she’d had to do was stand with them.

  She got out her phone and found a photo that she’d taken of Ben, sitting on the sofa reading, with his glasses on. He was looking at her sideways, amusement in his smile. She missed him so much she could barely breathe.

  She couldn’t call him. She wouldn’t be able to get any words past her closed throat. She pulled up his number and texted: Miss you.

  She stared at the text for a few seconds. After this, there would be no turning back. She would be stuck. Trapped in the palace, doing royal duties. But she would be with Ben. And she would be fighting from the inside.

  She hit send.

  She watched for a response for the whole day. There wasn’t one.

  Chapter 25

  Society Waves Magazine

  Official photographs from Princess Ophelia’s 35th birthday

  Formal photographs released from the palace show Princess Ophelia and the rest of the royal family, including the little princesses Francesca and Maria, and Princess Ophelia’s boyfriend Dominic Heatherton. The pictures were taken by the royal photographer at a private garden party held in Buckingham Palace yesterday.

  Prince Benedict’s girlfriend Kumari Senavaka was conspicuously absent from the event, prompting rumours that the royal family are not thrilled with Prince Benedict’s decision to discuss his private life in public.

  Kumari was sitting in her spot on the sofa, watching the news with Thatha. Her parents had tried to get her to eat something, but she couldn’t face it. All she could think of was the fact that she had texted Ben and he had ignored her. It was over. A flame of hope that she hadn’t even realised she was carrying was snuffed out. There was nothing left but darkness.

  Her parents exchanged worried glances, which she saw, but ignored. They tried to talk to her, to make her feel better. She ignored that too. She was only watching the news to see if she could catch a glimpse of whatever Ben was doing.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She felt a stab of hope and hated herself for it. It wasn’t going to be Ben. Why did she torture herself hoping it was? She pulled it out anyway. It was from Ben. Have been at formal event all day. Just got message. On my way.

  ‘Oh.’ She sat up.

  ‘What?’ said Amma.

  ‘Ben. Ben’s coming.’

  ‘What, here?’ Amma said. ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She texted back, but didn’t get a reply. ‘In a few hours, maybe. I don’t know.’

  Amma looked around. ‘We have to tidy up. And I have no food to give him.’

  ‘Calm down,’ said Thatha. ‘He’s coming to see Kumari. Not to look at us or the house. Or to eat the food.’ But he stood up too.

  Soon they were all frantically tidying up. Amma insisted on cooking enough chicken pilau to feed a squadron, ‘just in case’. Kumari helped, dicing garlic and ginger standing next to her mother, just as she had done in her teens.

  It started raining around eight o’clock. Kumari had heard nothing from Ben since the text.

  As it got later, Kumari helped Amma make up the bed in the small room for Ben. Around half past ten, her parents went to bed. Still no word.

  Knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep, Kumari curled up in her old spot on the sofa and put the TV on low. She watched a rerun of a crime drama, barely noticing anything. Because the sound was low, she heard the car turn into the close. She shot out of her seat and pulled the edge of the curtain back to look out.

  The car had pulled up between street lights, so that the man who emerged, his hood raised against the rain, was mostly caught in shadows. The man slung a backpack onto his shoulder and walked towards her house. She’d know that walk anywhere.

  She opened the door in time to hear Alfred’s, ‘You need something, friend?’

  Ben stopped and looked up. ‘Um . . .’

  Kumari stuck her head out of the door. ‘It’s OK, Alfred. We’re expecting him.’

  ‘Oh. Right you are, love.’ Above her, Alfred’s head rem
ained where it was. Ben opened the gate and slowly walked to the door. Alfred said. ‘It’s not . . . ?’

  ‘It’s raining, Alfred.’

  Ben looked up and gave Alfred a small salute. ‘I appreciate the security.’

  Kumari stepped back and let him step inside. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to face him. Ben was in her house. He was really here. She wanted to throw herself at him. Touch his beloved face, bury her face in the hollow of his neck and smell woodland and summer, to stroke him, to taste him. But she couldn’t do any of that because she’d let him down.

  Ben pushed his hood back. His face was wet from the rain. ‘Kumari,’ he said.

  ‘You came.’

  ‘I said I would, remember? I never break my word.’

  Her hand moved towards him, all of its own accord. It took all of her strength to pull it back.

  Ben sighed and shrugged off his coat. ‘I think we need to talk, don’t you?’

  There was noise upstairs and Amma’s head appeared over the banisters. ‘Is he here? Ben, putha, do you need anything? We have food.’

  Ben looked up, put his palms together and bowed his head to Amma. A small gesture of respect that cost him nothing, but made Amma smile. ‘No, thanks. I’m fine.’

  ‘I’ll make him a cup of tea,’ said Kumari.

  Amma nodded and went back to bed. Kumari ushered Ben into the living room. ‘Sit,’ she said. ‘Let me make you tea.’

  She left the room and he followed her. He looked enormous in her mother’s tiny galley kitchen. She put the kettle on and stared at him. He watched her and said nothing.

  ‘I screwed up, didn’t I?’ she said.

  ‘Yes. A bit,’ he said.

  ‘Only a bit?’ She shook her head. ‘No. I screwed up more than a bit. I hurt you. I embarrassed you. I let you down, I let Ophelia down . . . and Sinead . . . and . . .’ She waved an arm, encompassing the world in general. ‘I let everyone down.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Ben.’

  ‘Hey,’ he said gently. ‘I didn’t come all the way up here to watch you beat yourself up. Like I said, we need to talk. First things first. Did you text me because you wanted to come back? Or some other reason?’

  ‘What other reason could there possibly be?’

  ‘Don’t evade the question. Jeez. I should never have left you alone with Ophelia.’

  ‘Yes. I want to come back. I . . . panicked. I thought I was losing everything, but I’m not, am I?’

  He didn’t say anything, as though he was waiting for her to work her way to the end of the sentence.

  ‘I was gaining you. Us.’

  Ben nodded. ‘Yes. I was rather hoping that would be enough, but it is overwhelming, I understand. We – Helena, Ophelia and I – grew up with it and even we find it hard, so it must be so much worse for you. You told me you were scared and overwhelmed and I didn’t do anything about it. I let you down too.’

  They looked at each other across the two feet of lino that separated them.

  ‘So what now?’ he said.

  ‘Will you take me back?’

  ‘Wh—? Of course I will. Why do you think I’m here?’

  She did what she’d been wanting to do all along and threw herself into his arms, buried her face in the curve between his shoulder and neck, and breathed him in. He held her tightly.

  ‘One condition,’ he said. ‘You have to promise never to do this again. I don’t think I could stand it. I had to go out and perform my duties and smile when all I really wanted to do was hide in a corner and feel sorry for myself.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘Can you promise me you’ll make an effort to make my parents welcome wherever we end up living?’

  ‘I thought I did that already?’ He loosened his grip on her so that he could move back and look at her. When she shook her head, he said, ‘OK. I will try harder. I promise.’

  ‘Good.’ She reached up and stroked his cheek, now lightly bristled with stubble. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

  His blue eyes fixed on hers. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ he said. And kissed her.

  *

  The next morning, Kumari opened her eyes when she heard Ben’s footsteps, unfamiliar and heavy compared to her parents’ tread, going downstairs. She’d had only a few hours’ sleep. She and Ben had stayed up late talking, planning their future and just being together. Could she just leave them to talk to each other and go back to sleep? She rolled over. From downstairs, she heard the murmur of voices. No. She needed to know what was happening.

  She threw on some clothes and padded downstairs to find Ben sitting at the table talking to her parents. He had been given a mug of coffee and had a slice of toast in his hand. He looked over. ‘Morning!’ he said.

  ‘Morning.’ She fetched her own mug from the kitchen and poured herself a coffee. ‘What are we talking about?’

  ‘Just making plans,’ said Ben. ‘We were discussing the logistics of us getting married.’

  ‘Oh.’ Things had slotted right back on track, as though her running away had never happened.

  ‘Your dad has agreed to give you away,’ said Ben.

  Thatha nodded. Kumari searched his expression and found sadness, but no regret.

  There was a sharp rapping from the kitchen. The characteristic sound of Alfred’s wife, Mary, tapping on the back door with a broom handle because she wanted to talk to Amma.

  ‘That’s the neighbour,’ said Amma.

  ‘Alfred saw Ben coming in last night,’ said Kumari.

  ‘He’s been keeping a watch on everyone who comes down the path,’ Thatha said. ‘He’s called the police a few times. If he thinks it’s someone dodgy, he always phones and warns us.’

  Kumari felt the need to defend the nosiness of the people she’d known all her life. ‘He knew I was here the whole time and never told anyone.’

  Ben looked thoughtful. The knocking continued.

  ‘I think,’ Ben said, ‘your neighbours have been extremely kind and patriotic. How many houses are in the close?’

  ‘Eight,’ Thatha said.

  ‘Is there any chance they could all fit in here? For a short time.’

  Amma opened her mouth. Kumari could almost see the words ‘but I haven’t cleaned up’ lining up to come out.

  ‘What are you thinking of ?’ said Thatha.

  ‘I was thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to thank them all.’

  Amma’s face was a picture of horror. Kumari jumped in with, ‘It would be a bit cramped in here if we got that many people in. Maybe we could tell them to come into the close, just before we leave. We could shake hands and thank them and get straight into the car. I’m sure Dave would prefer that option too.’

  Ben looked at the tiny living room. ‘That sounds like an elegant and practical solution. Yes. Let’s do that.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Are you OK to leave at ten?’

  Kumari looked at her parents. ‘Make it ten thirty.’ Amma stood up. ‘OK. Let me just go and tell Mary so that she can stop that knocking.’

  *

  Later, when Ben was upstairs having a shower, Kumari sat with her parents and explained how she was sure this time.

  ‘I can make a change,’ she said.

  ‘To change an institution that old,’ said Thatha, ‘without damaging the good things about it . . . that will take more than a lifetime, Kumari. There’s no going back on it once you get married.’

  There was definitely a way to go back on a marriage, but she knew what he meant.

  ‘I know,’ said Kumari. ‘Change takes at least a generation, often more. But it has to start somewhere. I have a chance to start something, and be with the man I love. It’s not going to get better than that, is it?’

  ‘In that case, good luck.’ He put a hand on the crown of her head. ‘Thunsaranai, I’m proud of you.’

  ‘I’m sorry if you feel like you’ll be losing me. We will make an effort to make you feel included, I promise.’
<
br />   Amma smiled. ‘We know.’

  *

  Before she left the house, she knelt in front of her parents, asking for their blessing. They touched her head and gladly gave it. Ben too pressed his palms together in a namaste. They gave him their blessing too. Ben picked up Kumari’s bag and his own. Kumari carried a bag of food Amma had packed for her.

  Outside, the street was full of people, most leaning on their gates, waiting to see what was going to happen. Ben’s car was parked at the top of the street. Dave stood beside it, radiating alertness.

  Ben stood outside the gate and waved. ‘I just wanted to say, thank you,’ he said, his voice loud in the still morning. ‘For all that you’re doing to keep the Senavaka family safe. I really appreciate it. There has been a lot of nasty things that have happened to them – they’re still getting hate mail, for example.’ He pressed a hand to his heart. ‘It means a lot to me to know that they are in such caring company.’

  ‘It’s just a few bad apples spoiling things for everyone,’ Alfred said. He was wearing his Sunday suit, his hair combed back neatly.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Ben. ‘It’s wonderful that everyone here isn’t like that.’

  He went round, with Kumari following and smiling, and shook hands with everyone. It took a while. When someone got their camera out he asked them, politely, to please put it away.

  ‘This is a personal visit, you see. Not official.’ He smiled and Kumari watched the man he was talking to melt a little. ‘You’ll get me into trouble,’ Ben said.

  ‘Can’t have that.’ The camera was put away.

  They finally made it to the car and Kumari relaxed into Ben, delighted to be by his side.

  Chapter 26

  The Sentinel

  Women’s Rights and the Royal Family

  The royal family has always had rules. No one knows what they are, exactly, but we know they exist. Given that the top job, that of monarch, is equally attainable to both male and female heirs, you would think that the royals would be hot on equal opportunities.

  But of the many, many charities that the royal family support, only a fraction are to do with women’s causes. Perhaps Prince Benedict’s girlfriend will change that.