Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  Kumari Senavaka is a doctor and a humanitarian. She has been known to support causes such as improving education for girls and encouraging girls into scientific disciplines. She has had a very hands-on approach to her causes – volunteering to help in the background of events or, indeed, spending a year in Lesotho working as a doctor in a vaccination clinic. This is a woman who is not afraid of getting her hands dirty.

  Unlike the prince’s previous girlfriends, who have tended towards things like arts and finance, Kumari’s eye is trained on science and medicine. In fact, her latest cause, is a project bidding for internal funding from the Better For All charity to improve life for girls in the developing world. The Boost Her! project aims to train girls to become healthcare workers in their own villages, giving them status and salary while simultaneously improving the life chances of the villages in general.

  If Prince Benedict were to marry Kumari, she would hold influence with institutions like the Princess and Prince Foundation that provides a platform on which several like-minded charities can get together and push forward agendas for change.

  After she got back to London, Kumari invited Lucy round one afternoon to help keep a hint of normality to her life.

  ‘When do you hear about the project proposal?’ Lucy asked as she made herself at home on the the couch.

  ‘Any day now,’ said Kumari. ‘I hope we get it. Rita worked so hard on it – I think she’d almost be more disappointed than me if it fails.’ Even if they got the funding, she wouldn’t be able to work on the project for much longer. She tamped down the nagging guilt that she hadn’t told Victor and Rita that yet.

  ‘I still can’t believe you didn’t tell the charity about Ruby,’ said Lucy. ‘She and that dirtbag deserve to be hung out to dry.’

  ‘I didn’t want to sink to their level. What they did was wrong, but if I sank Greg’s project, I would be as bad as him. At least this way, even if we lose, I can be sure we did everything fairly.’

  ‘That’s very grown up of you,’ said Lucy.

  Kumari shrugged. ‘You know how it is. With great power comes great responsibility and all that.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re taking your life philosophy from Spider-Man.’

  ‘There are worse philosophers than Stan Lee.’

  Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘And you get to be a princess. Nerd.’ Kumari threw a cushion at her.

  Kumari’s phone rang. She apologised to Lucy and picked it up.

  ‘It’s Victor.’ He sounded excited, his deep voice reverberating down the line. ‘We did it. Or rather you and Rita did it.’

  ‘Did what?’ She could guess, but she needed to hear him say it.

  ‘We got the grant! Boost Her! was funded!’

  ‘Yes!’ Kumari made a triumphant fist pump. She passed the message on to Lucy, who high-fived her.

  ‘They chose the 3D-printed prosthetics project and ours. We can get things in motion within the next few weeks,’ said Victor. ‘I’m sorry I can’t head it up, but you’ll do an amazing job and with your new influence—’

  ‘Victor. I can’t be publicly involved in the project. I . . . don’t think I’m allowed.’

  ‘What do you mean you’re not allowed?’ said Victor. ‘Why not?’

  ‘No. The . . . er . . . the palace has asked that I step away from representing specific charities. I’ve started the process to get my name taken off any paperwork.’

  ‘Oh.’ He sounded so deflated that she felt a stab of guilt.

  ‘But I was thinking, why not ask Rita to take the project coordinator job? Maybe you could head it if you had her to support you.’

  ‘Rita?’ He sounded puzzled.

  ‘She’s really diligent and very intelligent. I think she’d be really good.’

  ‘She’s very junior . . .’ said Victor.

  ‘But competent. She’s bright and really impressed me.’ She needed to know that she was leaving the project in good hands. ‘Interview her. See how you get on. I know it’s a bit of a wild card, but I genuinely think she’ll do a good job.’

  ‘Her contract will be coming up soon, the person she was doing maternity cover for is coming back,’ said Victor. ‘You’re right. She is competent and keen . . . let me see what I can do.’

  They chatted some more about timelines and plans. ‘I’ll sort out the paperwork in the next few days and send it to you,’ said Kumari. She said her goodbyes and hung up.

  Lucy was sitting cross-legged on her chair, looking like she was about to explode.

  ‘So, we did it,’ said Kumari. ‘Without even having to drop Greg in the soup.’

  ‘Yes! That’s fantastic,’ said Lucy. ‘But more importantly, the palace asked you to step away from representing any one charity? What’s that all about? Since when does the palace get to tell you what you can and can’t represent?’

  ‘Erm . . .’ The engagement wasn’t official yet. It was supposed to be a secret until the official announcement, which was only a few days away.

  ‘Does this mean what I think it means?’ said Lucy, leaning so far forward that she was in danger of toppling off her chair.

  Kumari didn’t reply, but the grin that rose on her face was answer enough for her friend.

  Lucy leapt out of her chair and squealed. ‘That’s just the best!’ She hugged Kumari, who laughed and hugged her back.

  ‘Is there a ring? Can I see it? I promise I won’t breathe a word to anyone.’ She paused and gasped. ‘Does your mother know?’

  ‘Of course she does.’

  ‘And she didn’t tell me,’ said Lucy. ‘Oh never mind. Show me the ring. Show me. Show me.’

  Kumari fetched the ring. Lucy looked at it in wonder and Kumari told her the story behind the diamond. Lucy listened to the end and wiped her eyes. ‘That is so adorable,’ she said. ‘If you weren’t my best friend, I’d hate you.’

  *

  Kumari didn’t need to go to any formal visits until the engagement was announced. She threw herself into learning protocol and poise, a crash course in finishing school and learning to speak French. It would be a while before she could match even Ophelia for languages, but it was a start and learning new things kept her from getting bored.

  The other thing that kept her sane was working on the second-stage plans for the Boost Her! project. She had to do most of the work by email. Until the paperwork went through she was technically still head of the project, and she was determined to make sure she did as much as she could before she had to hand things over. It was galling that the letters she wrote were sent on behalf of someone else, but this project mattered too much to her to let her own ego get in the way.

  *

  Sinead arrived pushing a clothes rail that took up most of Kumari’s little sitting room. Kumari helped her move the mirror to where the light was better.

  ‘I have three options for you,’ Sinead said. She took them out and explained where each piece came from. There was a mixture of old designers, new designers and high street brands. ‘You’ll be standing up for the photos, mostly,’ said Sinead. ‘So we need something that hangs well.’

  In the end Kumari chose something that was a mixture of high street dress, taken up and adjusted to fit her properly, a designer jacket and mid-range accessories. ‘Something for everyone,’ she said.

  Sinead laughed. ‘I will make a note of that. For reference. Also, I have a few roughs from prospective designers for the wedding dress. I approached a few that we discussed, as well as the mainstream ones.’ She pulled out a portfolio case.

  There was a brisk knock on the door. Kumari frowned, waved Sinead to stay where she was and answered it. Ophelia breezed in. ‘Did I miss it?’

  ‘Come in, Your Highness, why don’t you,’ said Kumari. She shut the door.

  On seeing Kumari had returned to Kensington, Ophelia had said, ‘Oh, excellent. You did the right thing. Welcome back, darling.’ And that had been the end of that. They had slipped back into their friendship as though n
othing had interrupted it.

  Ophelia ignored her comment. ‘Are these the designs? Oh good. What are we having?’

  Sinead glanced at Kumari, who motioned her to go ahead. There was no point trying to stop Ophelia interfering. You may as well try to hold back the tide.

  ‘OK,’ said Sinead. ‘I removed anything that didn’t meet the modesty requirements or was too plain. So we’ve narrowed it down to these.’

  She spread out six designs. All beautiful. Kumari stared at them. How was she supposed to choose?

  Ophelia glanced sideways at her. ‘It’s your wedding, darling, you choose what you want. Of course, you may want to lean towards an up-and-coming designer. That would be entirely understandable.’

  ‘As you say,’ Kumari shot back. The hint was not lost on her. ‘It’s my wedding.’

  ‘Quite so.’

  Sinead watched the exchange with wide eyes. Kumari, who was learning fast what the limitations on her freedom were, noted that all the gowns had sleeves and a certain degree of simplicity around the skirts.

  ‘I don’t have to get married in white, do I?’ she said. ‘It’s my second wedding.’

  ‘Oh no, something pale will do,’ said Sinead. ‘I think red might be pushing it though. I know it’s traditional . . .’

  ‘Not really,’ Kumari said. ‘Sinhala brides wear white.’

  ‘Same colour for weddings and funerals?’ said Ophelia. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it that way,’ said Kumari. ‘Anyway, for my first wedding, I had two ceremonies. A church one and a Sri Lankan one. Shane was Catholic you see.’

  There was a moment of silence. She looked up and caught the other two looking at her. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Ophelia. ‘So, back to the matter at hand. Are you any closer to deciding yet?’

  ‘I like that one and that one.’ She pointed to two of the drawings. ‘Tell me about them.’

  Sinead whipped away the other sketches and pulled out fabric samples in pale pastel shades. It took them most of the afternoon to work out the details.

  In the end, they picked a dress that had a bodice reminiscent of a delicately embroidered sari blouse and a wide skirt with a patterned base. The designer, an Indonesian–British woman from Brighton, would be invited to meet Kumari so that they could iron out the details.

  Kumari took a photo of the concept sketch to show Amma. After Ophelia and Sinead had left, she pulled up the picture and looked at it. It would be the most beautiful, most expensive dress she had ever worn. She turned over her left hand and looked at the blue and white gemstones on the ring. Suddenly, it was all real. She was getting married. To Ben. She smiled at the picture of the dress. Somehow they had survived the nightmare. Now they would be all the stronger for it.

  Chapter 27

  The Times Echo

  Prince Benedict engaged to Kumari Senavaka

  The palace has announced the engagement of Prince Benedict to Dr Kumari Senavaka. The prince designed the ring himself and it contains Ceylon sapphires and a diamond that belonged to his mother. The couple met on a blind date set up by mutual friends.

  The wedding date has not been set yet, but it is expected to take place in the spring.

  The couple posed in the gardens at Buckingham Palace for their formal engagement photos, where they broke royal protocol by holding hands.

  Picture caption: The Prince and Kumari pose for their formal photo.

  Picture caption: The engagement ring

  ‘Just relax,’ the man from the royal press office said. ‘There won’t be any surprise questions. Just be yourselves. You’ll be fantastic.’

  They were in Benedict’s living room, positioned on one of the sofas, with a prominent newscaster sitting in a chair opposite them. The cameras were positioned so that the interviewer would be just out of shot. If Kumari were to look straight at her, she could more or less ignore the camera. She was feeling light-headed and anxious. It wasn’t as bad as everyone staring at her, but there were quite a lot of people in Ben’s sitting room.

  Ben sat next to her and adjusted his microphone. He caught her eye. She stared at him, feeling the panic rise. Slowly and deliberately, he winked at her. This popped the bubble of panic and made her giggle. She immediately felt better.

  The newscaster who was interviewing them glanced up from her notes and smiled. ‘It’s not going to be an aggressive interview, I promise.’

  Kumari smiled back, but it was an effort. She hadn’t eaten anything all morning because she felt so ill. A woman checked her make-up. Benedict said something to Anton who was a few feet away.

  ‘Your Highness, if you’re ready?’ the producer said.

  ‘Of course.’ Benedict cut short his conversation and shifted in his seat so that he was closer to Kumari. This, Kumari reflected, was the difference between classy and famous. Benedict was nervous as hell, she knew because they’d taken turns panicking at breakfast time. But he was unfailingly polite. To everyone. Always.

  The only time she’d seen him show how riled he could get was with her or his family. She was one of the few people who saw the private man behind the public persona. She looked up at him. He took her hand and squeezed it.

  ‘Ready?’ asked the interviewer.

  Ben waited for Kumari to say yes before saying yes himself. The producer counted them in.

  The first question was about the proposal. Ben answered it. After a few seconds, Kumari’s heart stopped roaring in her ears and she was able to join in. She kept her eyes on Ben or on their joined hands, to keep the panic at bay.

  They talked about how they met. How they saw the world in the same way. How they wanted to help people.

  ‘Children?’ asked the interviewer.

  They looked at each other and smiled. ‘In good time,’ said Ben. ‘But, yes.’

  ‘Family is important to us both,’ Kumari said.

  The interviewer asked, ‘And, Kumari, how do you feel about giving up your career?’

  That was the kicker. Ben squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m sad, obviously, to give up being a doctor,’ she said. ‘But, when I became a doctor, I swore to first do no harm. My presence at a public hospital caused problems once I was in the public eye and it was hampering my colleagues’ ability to treat patients, so I had to leave.’ She glanced at Ben, who gave her a tiny smile.

  ‘I will also miss working with Better for All. That said,’ she continued, ‘my main motivation, with medicine, with the work I do with medical charities, is to help people. So I will be continuing to do that, but in a slightly different context.’

  There was a pause. Ben stepped in, ‘Kumari will be joining my sisters and me at the Princesses and Prince Foundation.’

  ‘How wonderful,’ the interviewer said. ‘And how have you found the difference in your life from being a working doctor, to being, for want of a better description, a celebrity?’ Expertly, she moved the conversation back to the topic at hand.

  They talked some more about their story and their plans together. At one point the interviewer asked them if they were happy.

  Kumari looked at Ben and caught his gaze. After all the ups and downs, were they happy? Yes, she decided, yes they were. He smiled at her. She put her other hand over his so that his hand was sandwiched between her own. And Benedict glowed. She had made him do that. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Very happy.’ That was the image that ended up in all the newspapers the next day. The two of them, lost in each other’s eyes, smiling like lovestruck teenagers.

  *

  ‘Omigod. You guys are so cute,’ Lucy said. ‘Just look at this.’ She waved a front page with a photo of the two of them looking adoringly at each other. ‘It’s so perfect it’s sickening.’

  ‘That wasn’t actually planned,’ said Kumari. ‘We were supposed to smile and answer questions.’

  They were in her little apartment, a bottle of wine between them. Kumari had to sign the last of the pa
perwork handing over the Boost Her! project to Victor. She didn’t think she could go through with it without extra support.

  She fiddled with her pen.

  ‘You’re sure you want to do this?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘I’m pretty sure I have no choice,’ said Kumari. ‘It’s not like I can go out there and oversee it all. Victor’s a good guy. He helped me pull most of this stuff together. He’ll do a good job. Plus he’ll have Rita to help him. She’s great.’

  She tapped the pen, end over end.

  ‘So . . .’ said Lucy. ‘Maybe you should just do it. One quick signature and you’re done. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.’

  Kumari took a deep breath and signed and dated it.

  ‘There,’ she said.

  Lucy passed her the glass of wine. ‘Well done, Dr Senavaka.’

  Kumari sighed. ‘I’m going to miss being called Dr Senavaka.’

  ‘What are you going to be called?’

  ‘Duchess of something. Depending on what ducal title Benedict gets given.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Lucy, sounding mildly disappointed. ‘Not Princess Kumari?’

  ‘No.’ She giggled. ‘Although Princess Kumari might be overkill – “Princess Princess”.’

  Lucy pulled a face. ‘Seems a whole waste of marrying a prince if you don’t get to be a princess.’

  ‘Does a bit.’

  She pushed the documents further away. Lucy, giving her a knowing glance, gathered them up and put them in her bag. ‘I’ll post them tomorrow morning.’ She picked up her glass and clinked it against Kumari’s. ‘So, that’s it then. All your “commoner” jobs handed over.’

  ‘Yeah. Feels weird.’

  ‘I bet. What are you going to do instead?’

  ‘I’m taking a role in the foundation that Benedict and his sisters run. It’s a really great idea actually. To pull together groups that work on similar things and have a big unified project delivered through all the different avenues. It has the potential to have a much bigger impact than the individual projects.’