Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  ‘The whole being bigger than the sum of the parts?’ said Lucy.

  ‘Exactly!’

  Lucy smiled. ‘So you get to change the world anyway.’

  Kumari grinned. Yes. She did get to change the world.

  Being part of a royal foundation gave her far more influence and allowed her to do far more to help people than she could ever imagine. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘That is rather cool.’

  Chapter 28

  The Witness Reporter

  Nation gripped by royal wedding fever

  Homes up and down the country are decked in red, white and blue as the nation prepares for the wedding of Prince Benedict and his Sri Lankan–British girlfriend, Kumari Senavaka. The pair, whose whirlwind romance is characterised by being unconventional (by royal standards) and good-humoured, are immensely popular with the British public. So much so that Kumari Senavaka, a doctor and vocal advocate of education for girls, is now mostly known simply as ‘Kumari’. When asked about it in an interview, she said, ‘You know you’ve arrived when people feel comfortable enough to call you by your first name.’

  The couple have further extended their reputation for being better connected with the public than the rest of the royal family by making their wedding a public occasion and inviting two thousand commoners to the event. The couple invited the entire street where Kumari grew up, in recognition of the way the street rallied against vandals who targeted Kumari’s parents in racist attacks. While the residents are in London, Prince Benedict has paid for security to watch their houses.

  Later this week, Kumari will accompany the prince to an event encouraging young women to go into science. This will be her first formal royal engagement.

  The crowd outside the event was sizeable. Kumari had been concentrating on what Anton was telling them about the initiative to get more young women involved in science. Since this was something Kumari had a good deal of personal experience in, they had all agreed that she should be the one to give a short speech and open the event. It was relatively small and, she felt, full of her kind of people – scientists. It was a good way to ease her into being a public figure. It had all seemed like such a good idea at the time.

  She looked at her speech, it was getting a little tattered from being clutched in her hand. Ben touched her wrist. ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he said. ‘Trust me. You’ll be wonderful.’

  She nodded. She could do this. She was getting better at dealing with crowds. It was a matter of remembering that they were a collection of individuals. Focus on the person in front of her, rather than the mass as a whole. Ben had taught her that and it seemed to work.

  The car came to a stop. First Ben, then Kumari, stepped out. The car behind them carried Danielle and some other security people. They were already out of their vehicle.

  Kumari waved. Ben took her hand.

  They were met by three women, who she was introduced to. She shook hands with them and sensed their nerves. They were nervous of meeting her? Seriously?

  The older of the women, a physics professor, led the way, explaining about the project and how participation of girls in science was far lower than expected at all points in the education system, and that by the time they got to professional level, in science, technology, engineering and mathematics, only fifteen per cent of graduate jobs were taken by girls.

  ‘We lose them at every stage,’ she said, her hands moving to emphasise her point.

  ‘Why do you think that is?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Partly, social conditioning. We are told in a hundred subtle ways that girls can’t do certain professions. Partly because women interact differently to men. We are taught to placate; to compromise. But science is a very combative atmosphere. You are essentially always trying to prove or disprove something. There will always be conflict. And men are more likely to face that conflict with confidence – even when they’re wrong. We need to give young women the tools to deal with that sort of atmosphere.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kumari. She recognised a lot of that from medicine too, but she couldn’t say that now. There was a lot of not-saying-things-directly involved in this public-facing role she had now. Everything she or Ben said would be analysed and spun to fit whatever world view the commentators held. Helena had been grooming her on the art of saying things that sounded meaningful while remaining carefully neutral. It was hard work. ‘Is there any work on how that could be addressed?’

  ‘It’s essential that we retain the enthusiasm that young girls have and nurture it so that they don’t lose it as they get older.’

  By the time they got to the hall, Kumari was engrossed in the theories this woman was describing. Much of what she said chimed with Kumari’s own ideas about educating women and enabling them to get back to work after taking career breaks to have families.

  A few minutes later, she stood at the podium and looked at the faces turned towards her. Nearly all of them female. Most of them very young. She noted that there was a mix of skin tones. Good. She cleared her throat and leant closer towards the microphone. She focused on one face at a time and found her voice.

  ‘A few years ago, I was like you,’ she said to the girls who were standing solemnly watching her. ‘I was a girl interested in science. There were plenty of people, mostly boys, sometimes other girls and women, who told me that “girls can’t do science”. They were wrong. That message is still there. The message is still wrong, but the difference is now we know that it’s a lie. A myth, if you like. Women have been involved in pushing the boundaries of science for years, they were simply never talked about – Rosalind Franklin, Mileva Maric, Jocelyn Bell Burnell, the list goes on . . . You are the future. You will be those women who make new discoveries and invent new things and change the world. If every one of you inspires three others, soon the message will spread and no one will ever be able to say “girls can’t do science” with a straight face again.’

  She moved back and murmured, ‘Thank you.’ There was complete silence for a heartbeat. Then a wave of applause, a few whoops. She focused on individual faces of the girls in the front and saw the grins, the admiration. Cameras clicked all over the place, but she didn’t care. She’d done it. She’d given her first speech and she’d inspired people.

  She took a few steps away from the podium and went to stand by Ben, who beamed at her and took her hand again. Right now, she felt like she was the luckiest woman in the world.

  They spent another half-hour walking around the exhibits, talking to the young scientists who were running the demonstrations. Kumari let her inner geek surface and asked a lot of questions, much to the delight of some of the adult volunteers. Ben, too, appeared to be taking a huge interest in what he was being told. They made DNA models out of jelly babies. They watched a strobe light make a water droplet seem to rise up while it dripped. They played with VR equipment.

  Kumari was almost sad to leave. In her old life, she would have happily wandered around here for hours, although she would have worn more comfortable shoes. She was learning a lot about the wonderful world of high heels. Mostly that there was a reason she used to only wear them on special occasions.

  They left the exhibition hall hand in hand. A path had been cleared for them to walk down, with people standing either side behind barriers. There were a couple of news cameras and reporters with microphones, not to mention the hundreds of smartphones.

  Ben released her hand. She had a moment of free-falling fear, before she remembered. Focus on one person at a time. She and Ben walked down the corridor of people, one on either side. She shook hands, and smiled.

  ‘Are you having a hen do?’ someone asked.

  ‘Oh yes. It’s being organised by my friends,’ she said, smiling.

  A surprising number of people wanted just to touch her. She could see why Helena and Ophelia carried their bags like shields. If someone looked too grabby, she could sense Danielle stepping closer to her, that seemed to help dissuade people. Danielle was another member of her team wh
o had become indispensable.

  Someone offered her a posy of flowers. She took it, thanking the person, and carried it with her.

  A man in a turban was standing by the barriers, carrying a little girl, who couldn’t have been more than five. The girl was clutching a plastic Union flag.

  Kumari stopped. ‘Hello,’ she said. The girl hid her face in her dad’s shoulder and peered out at her.

  ‘You’re not shy,’ said her dad, tickling her.

  ‘That’s a pretty outfit you’re wearing,’ Kumari said. It was. The girl was wearing a little blue sari.

  Ben came to stand beside her. ‘Oh, you’re wearing Kumari’s sari from the first time we met. How thoughtful.’

  The child nodded.

  ‘Her mum made it for her,’ the father supplied. He indicated a small Asian woman beside him, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

  ‘It’s her favourite princess costume,’ the woman said. ‘She wants to be like you when she’s big.’

  The full realisation hit Kumari then. This little girl, with her brown skin and black hair, had come dressed as her. She, Kumari, was an icon. A princess to aspire to. More importantly for a small child, a princess that looked like her.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ she said.

  The father tickled the little girl again. ‘Say thank you.’

  A muffled ‘thank you’ came from where the child was burrowing into his shoulder.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kumari said to the family. Both parents beamed at her. She carried on walking. As she neared the car, she turned around to look. The father had put the sari-clad little girl on his shoulders and she was waving enthusiastically.

  Once they were safely back in the car, Kumari’s hands started to shake.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ben. ‘You did so well.’

  ‘She was dressed as me,’ Kumari said.

  Ben didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That was really sweet. You see. You’re more than just you now. People are going to pour in their own vision of who they think you are. So long as you inspire people to be their best, then you’re doing well.’

  He leant across and kissed her. ‘You did brilliantly with your speech. I’m so proud to be the guy marrying you.’

  She side-eyed him. She was secretly pleased with her performance too.

  Chapter 29

  The Pinnacle News

  Are you invited to the royal wedding?

  Prince Benedict and his fiancée, Kumari Senavaka, will be inviting two thousand guests from a variety of communities to their wedding. The invitations have already been sent out. Those invited are believed to be neighbours from the area Kumari grew up in, several hundred members of the Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace and Kensington Palace communities, a thousand young people who have been active in serving their communities, staff members from the hospitals and charities that Kumari worked in and selected others.

  For those who aren’t invited to the event itself, there is still the chance to see the royal couple after they are married as they will take a procession around the town of Windsor. It is thought that there will be an open-air concert in Windsor, with free tickets being made available on a first come, first served basis.

  Prince Benedict and Kumari wanted to make this wedding a celebration of difference and unity.

  Kumari sat in the limo with Lucy and Thatha on either side of her. Danielle, who was now officially her CPS officer, sat in the front. The dress rustled every time she moved. They had decided that she didn’t need a veil, but her hairpiece had a loop of fabric that touched at her shoulders and blended with her train. Her dress was mainly pale blue, so light it was almost white, with bright blue and gold embroidery on it. When she walked, the folds of fabric at the base revealed flashes of cerulean blue. She had opted for a car, rather than carriage, for this first part. There would be a carriage later.

  ‘Woah,’ said Lucy, looking out of the car’s tinted windows at the crowds outside, all of whom were standing behind crash barriers waving flags. ‘I feel like royalty.’ Lucy was wearing a long slip dress of the same blue. There was a line of deeper blue just at the bottom.

  She looked at Kumari. A hysterical laugh rose in Kumari’s chest and burst out before she could stop it. Suddenly, they were both giggling like children. Thatha watched them, smiling indulgently.

  As they neared the arch that led into the grounds of Windsor Castle, he shushed them. After a few seconds struggling, Kumari got herself under control. She didn’t dare look at Lucy, in case it started again.

  The car pulled up outside the doors of St George’s Chapel.

  Thatha said, ‘Ready?’

  Kumari nodded. He touched his fingertips to the top of her head, lightly, so that she barely felt it through all the hairspray. ‘Be happy,’ he said.

  Kumari felt her eyes prickle. ‘Don’t make me cry.’

  He smiled and she could see his eyes were already full. Someone opened Lucy’s door for her and the roar of the crowds came in. A terrifying sound. Lucy got out and the door shut. Thatha got out next and held out his hand to help her. She gripped it firmly and stepped out. The noise intensified. Bells rang overhead. For a moment, she felt panic gallop through her. Lucy appeared next to her, fussing with the dress. Kumari turned and caught her eye. Lucy said, ‘Benedict.’

  That was what this was all about. Benedict. The people, the cameras, the staring, none of that was important. She straightened up, allowed her father to tuck her hand into his arm, took a deep breath and walked towards the chapel. As she walked, a gust of wind, as if on cue, blew her skirts, drawing out the darker blue detail. There was an audible ‘ooh’ from the crowd.

  Someone had arranged the flower girls and pageboy in front of her. They paused at the door and she remembered to wave to the crowds. The cheer that greeted this was almost a wall of sound.

  The ‘Wedding March’ rang out from the grand organ above the nave. A wave of murmurs preceded her. She was dimly aware of the flower arrangements that she and Ophelia had carefully chosen, the blue, white and gold decorations, the people in the seats either side of the aisle. There was too much to take in all at once. So she fixed her eyes on the two figures standing by the altar.

  Benedict and Rhodri were both in their military uniforms. Benedict had explained to her the significance of all the bits of his uniform: the red-and-gold sash, the braiding, the working on the sleeves, the medals – they all had meaning. But, right now, all Kumari could remember was Ben carefully explaining to her and a giggling Lucy that aiguillettes meant a type of braiding, and weren’t the same as a French white sausage. That was the man she was marrying. Ben, who faced the world with humour and compassion. He just also happened to be a prince.

  As she got closer, she could see Benedict’s hands, furling and unfurling with nerves. Rhodri glanced over his shoulder and flashed her a grin. She smiled and bowed her head.

  When she drew level with the altar, Benedict turned. His blue eyes sparkled. Her gaze met his and all doubts burned away. This was exactly where she wanted to be.

  Thatha squeezed her hand before he helped her up to the altar.

  She and Ben repeated their vows, learnt by heart now, and exchanged rings. After the hymns, they went into the small room behind the altar where they signed the legal papers that made them husband and wife.

  Once this was done, Ben sighed, picked up her hand and laid a kiss on her knuckles. ‘I love you,’ he said, a catch in his voice.

  ‘I love you too.’

  ‘You can have a sneaky kiss, you know?’ said Rhodri.

  ‘Mind the make-up,’ Lucy hissed.

  Kumari and Ben looked at each other. Ben leant in and gave her a light kiss on her lips. He moved back. ‘Best not mess up your lipstick. There will be cameras everywhere.’

  ‘See,’ said Lucy pointedly. ‘That’s considerate.’

  Rhodri rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Kumari laughed. She loved that there was a spark be
tween her best friend and Ben’s. ‘Stop squabbling you two.’

  ‘That’s our job,’ said Ben.

  Anton, who had appeared from somewhere, checked the doorway. ‘Ready?’

  They went back into the body of the church to the sounds of fanfare. They went first to the queen, to whom they bowed. She gave them a happy smile. Then they turned and walked down the length of the aisle. Now, Kumari could notice people. Familiar faces of friends, her own grandmother and mother, standing together, resplendent in jewel-bright saris. Famous faces. Hats.

  She walked carefully, so that she didn’t trip up on her skirts, although given that tripping on her skirts was what had brought her here in the first place, perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Beside her, Benedict muttered, ‘Don’t tread on the dress’ to himself as he matched her step for step.

  When they reached the outside, the cheering was deafening. They paused to wave.

  The realisation that this was her life now hit Kumari square in the chest. She gasped. She had been the reluctant star beforehand. The potential bride of the prince. But now she was part of it. These people were her people too. For some reason this didn’t frighten her as much as it had before. She was here now. Secure. With the man she loved. Nothing was going to faze her now.

  By the time they had done a carriage ride around Windsor, waved to several thousand people and returned to the castle, Kumari’s arms ached and she really needed a glass of water. She had to change clothes and prepare for the wedding breakfast in a bit. But first there was something else to do. She and Ben met Rhodri and Lucy at the door and followed them into a small room away from the other guests.

  In the room, Amma and Thatha stood waiting, with Ben’s father, stepmother and sisters. In the centre of the room was a tall lamp garlanded with white flowers. There was a small crowd of Sri Lankans – a single drummer, a kapuwa – who would have traditionally conducted the ceremonial part of the marriage – and three children who were all in traditional dress.