‘Before we move on to the next item. What would happen if Ben and I were to make an anonymous donation from our private funds?’
They were Ben’s private funds, really. She still hadn’t got her head around the size of it all. Even the size of her clothing budget astounded her. The only way to keep sane was to think of her stipend as a salary and think of the rest as the cost of doing business. Which, in a way, it was. She could donate a portion of her stipend from now until the new funding round was announced. That would bridge the gap. Assuming they won the funding.
Barry frowned. ‘Anonymously?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘A one-off private donation.’ She’d have to ask Ben, but it wasn’t worth even going there if the rules didn’t allow it.
‘Technically, you could do that, ma’am, but I wouldn’t advise it. Given what happened yesterday, people will put two and two together and then you’ll be inundated with requests for support. The whole point of having a foundation is to allow your charitable donations to be channelled so that they have full transparency and maximum impact in the areas you focus on.’ He was going into lecture mode again.
Kumari waved a hand wearily. ‘Yes, yes. I know. I just thought I’d ask.’
Barry subsided.
‘What’s next on the agenda?’
As they returned to discussing what was going on during the day, the information Barry had just given her settled in the back of her mind.
There had to be a way. There just had to.
*
On Wednesday, Lucy arrived, bearing a bottle of wine. Kumari popped it in the fridge. ‘No booze until after the clothes have been sorted,’ she said.
‘It’s only, like, three days. Why would you need so many?’ said Lucy, watching as Sinead wheeled in an overloaded clothes rack.
‘Well,’ said Sinead. ‘There’s the outfit for travelling in – needs to be comfortable but not likely to crumple because someone is bound to take a photo. There’s the cocktail dress for early evening drinks on Christmas Eve. Evening gown for dinner. Outdoor clothes for church. Nice dress to go under it, so that you can go straight to Christmas Day lunch. Slightly more formal dress for Christmas Day evening buffet. Something casual for Boxing Day . . .’ She flicked through the hangers as she spoke. ‘So, I propose we go through them in chronological order.’
Kumari sat down on the sofa with Lucy perched next to her. ‘It’s like the most advanced version of making up looks with the mail order catalogue.’
‘You never use a mail order catalogue,’ said Kumari. ‘You use the Internet, like everyone else.’
‘Same thing,’ said Lucy.
Sinead cleared her throat. ‘According to the schedule I’ve got, the first event is drinks on Christmas Eve. We chose a cocktail dress. It has been altered to fit you, would you like to try it on?’
Kumari tried each outfit on while Sinead checked for fit and ticked it off her list. Lucy asked questions. When they got to the formal evening gown, Sinead said, ‘I’ve requested these jewels for you to wear with it. The request has been approved.’
‘Can I see?’ said Lucy.
Sinead glanced at Kumari to check before saying, ‘Of course.’ She brought up the pictures on her tablet and passed it over.
Lucy whistled. ‘Wow. Get a load of those.’ She turned to Kumari. ‘You get to wear the most incredible bling, you lucky thing.’
‘It’s not mine, I borrow it,’ said Kumari as she came out from behind her changing screen, dressed in her dark-green evening gown. The dress had an embroidered sweetheart neckline. On Sinead’s concept sketch, she had added an emerald necklace from Ben’s mother’s collection. The collection was full of amazing pieces of jewellery, as beautiful as they were precious. In her old life, she would have had to buy tickets to even look at them.
She stood still while Sinead checked the fit. The alterations meant that it fit perfectly.
‘Just look at that dress. It looks amazing on you,’ said Lucy. ‘Can I touch it?’
Sinead reluctantly nodded. Lucy stroked the velvet skirt of the dress. ‘So soft . . .’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you get to wear this stuff.’ She pinched the fabric between finger and thumb, which made Sinead tut.
Kumari smiled. ‘I think I’d best take this off, so it’s in perfect condition for the day.’
Sinead unzipped it for her and she went back behind her screen.
‘You really are living the dream,’ said Lucy.
Kumari, who was now back in her dressing gown, ready for the next outfit, sat down on the couch and unbuckled her shoes. ‘You know the best bit?’ she said to Lucy.
‘You can choose a best bit? It’s all pretty amazing,’ said Lucy.
‘You’ll appreciate this,’ said Kumari. She lifted up the pair of shoes she had just removed. ‘Made-to-measure shoes!’
‘You are kidding,’ said Lucy. For a second she was speechless. Lucy knew better than anyone the trouble Kumari had finding shoes to fit her long, thin feet.
‘I know, right,’ said Kumari. A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her throat. ‘I feel very special.’
Lucy’s mouth twitched. ‘Anyone would think you’d married a handsome prince . . . oh wait.’
They both started laughing. Sinead smiled patiently and gave them a few minutes before gently reminding them of the task at hand.
They were still going through everything when Ben arrived home and popped his head round the door to say hello to Lucy. ‘How long will you be?’
‘Another half-hour,’ said Kumari.
‘I’ll go get the supper on, then,’ said Ben.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Lucy. ‘I never thought I’d have enough of fashion, but turns out I do have a limit. Who knew?’ She blew Kumari a kiss. ‘It was good to meet you, Sinead.’ She let herself out of the door.
Kumari stood still while Sinead checked and pinned things. ‘Sinead,’ she said, ‘are you sure about coming to Sandringham? I’m sure I can manage if you want to spend Christmas with your family.’
‘Oh no, ma’am.’ Sinead continued pinching and tucking as she spoke. ‘It’s your first visit to Sandringham. I don’t want you to be there without me. Besides, I’ve never organised a wardrobe for the event by myself before and what if I’ve missed something? It would be so much quicker to sort out if I was there.’
‘But you’ll miss Christmas at home.’
‘Oh, they’ll be fine,’ said Sinead. ‘Anyway, I’ve booked my flight for the twenty-seventh already. There’s no point trying to change it now.’
Kumari sighed. ‘If you’re sure . . .’ she said. Although she felt bad about Sinead working over the holiday, she was also glad that she was going to be there. From what she’d been told, Christmas at Sandringham was a highly regimented formal affair with a bewildering number of outfit changes at specific times. Having Sinead there to help her get her hair and make-up ready before each portion of the event would be a great relief.
‘I’m sure, ma’am,’ Sinead said. She stood back and looked critically at Kumari. ‘That’s fine now,’ she said and moved on to the next item.
*
By the time they’d finished with the clothing options, including drafting up options for events in January, Kumari was starving. She saw Sinead off and traipsed to the kitchen where Lucy was sitting on a bar stool, glass of white wine in hand, chatting to Ben as he stirred something on the hob.
Kumari paused at the doorway to savour the moment. Her best friend and Ben got on well. There had been an awkward few weeks when Lucy’s short fling with Ben’s best friend Rhodri had ended, but they seemed to have moved past that now.
Kumari smiled. The kitchen was her favourite room in the apartments. It was the only one with modern furniture. Everything was in glossy cream and dark granite. Tasteful to the extreme. As it would be, because the previous incumbent had been Ben’s older sister Helena.
There was an aura of informality about this room. Ben had told her
that when Helena lived there, he and Ophelia had often come round for dinner. He loved this kitchen too.
She stepped into the room.
Ben beamed at her. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said, and blew her a kiss. ‘How did it go with the dress drama?’
‘I think it’s OK. Sinead is more nervous than I am.’
‘Well, this is nearly ready,’ said Ben. ‘It’s nothing fancy,’ he said to Lucy apologetically. ‘Just stroganoff and dumplings.’
‘My favourite,’ said Lucy.
They had a dining room, which they had yet to use. They preferred to take their meals informally in the kitchen, rather than go through to another room. Kumari set the table. She needed to talk to Ben about the ways in which she might help the Boost Her! charity, but it would have to wait until later.
‘So, tell me about this jaunt to Sandringham then. How do royals spend their Christmas?’ Lucy said over dinner.
‘It’s a family thing. Grandma likes to have all the immediate family round. Actually, she’s very strict about that. We decorate the tree and do Christmas presents and play games, do jigsaws, that sort of thing. Regular family stuff,’ said Ben.
‘You make it sound like a normal family do,’ said Kumari. ‘It’s so not. There’s a timetable,’ she said to Lucy. ‘With times and venues and dress codes.’
‘Like what?’ said Lucy.
‘Let’s see . . .’ said Kumari. ‘On Christmas Eve there’s a reception – for which we have to arrive exactly on time. Then cocktails, formalwear.’
‘We do Christmas presents then,’ Ben interjected.
‘Right. Then a break and formal dinner, black tie.’ Kumari glanced at Ben, who nodded. ‘Christmas Day is breakfast, informal. Church, smart formal, followed by Christmas lunch. Then dinner, formal again, but not as formal as the night before . . . and then I think that’s it.’
‘There’s the hunt on Boxing Day,’ said Ben.
‘Yeah, but we don’t have to go to that,’ said Kumari.
Ben paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. He lowered the spoon. ‘Yes. We do.’
‘But I don’t agree with hunting,’ said Kumari. ‘You know that.’
‘None of the Christmas event is optional. We have to go on the hunt. You don’t have to shoot things, but we have to go.’
Kumari stared at him. She had just assumed that, as she and Ben both supported wildlife conservation charities, that they would both be exempt from the blood sport.
‘Hunting is wrong,’ she said. ‘I’m not doing it.’
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just a pheasant shoot, Kumari.’
They stared at each other. Ben’s mouth was set in a firm line. He had that determined look about him that Kumari hadn’t seen in a long time.
‘It’s an important tradition,’ he said quietly.
‘I’m not going hunting,’ she shot back, equally quietly.
They glared at each other over their meals.
‘Er . . . guys,’ said Lucy.
Oh. Kumari was jolted out of her staring competition. She’d forgotten about Lucy. She threw a quick glance at Ben. It wasn’t fair to let this discussion ruin Lucy’s evening. She glanced across at her friend, who was concentrating fiercely on her food. Ben gave her a tiny nod. Airing private grievances in public was not done. Not even in front of friends. They would discuss this later.
‘I’m sorry, Lucy,’ said Kumari. ‘You don’t need to get involved in this. Let’s talk about something else.’
‘Yes,’ Ben said smoothly. ‘What are you up to in the holidays?’
‘I’m going home to Boston to see my family,’ said Lucy. ‘My brother and his wife had a baby, so I get to see my new nephew.’
‘Oh, how lovely, when are you flying out?’ Kumari asked. Now that they were on safer territory, the awkwardness passed.
They returned to the topic hours later when they were stacking the dishwasher.
‘It’s killing for entertainment,’ said Kumari. ‘I thought you supported animal welfare and habitat conservation charities.’
‘Conservation, yes,’ said Ben. ‘There’s a difference between that and animal preservation. Sometimes you need to control populations.’
Kumari opened her mouth to protest that this population was artificially maintained, but Ben forestalled her. ‘We’ve talked about this, Kumari. I have to do it. It’s tradition. It’s important.’
‘But I disagree with it.’ This was important to her. All the other traditions, some sensible, some a bit strange, were mostly harmless, but this wasn’t something Kumari could give in to. She had been brought up Buddhist, where not hurting others was paramount. She was pragmatic about it most of the time, but this, to her, was a clear-cut waste of life. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, I feel really strongly about this. I don’t want to have any part of it.’
‘But—’
‘And anyway, you and I, we’re pretty much the antithesis of royal tradition. If your grandmother agreed to us getting married, I can’t see her throwing a wobbly just because I don’t want to go out and kill things.’
She saw Ben’s pained expression and softened a little. ‘I don’t see why this is so difficult,’ said Kumari. ‘I’ll leave early. You go to the shoot and join me later.’
‘We can’t do that,’ said Ben. ‘We can’t leave early without a good reason. That’s disrespectful to the monarch.’
‘And we can’t have that,’ said Kumari, without rancour. Being ‘disrespectful to the monarch’ was a much bigger deal than it sounded. The queen commanded a certain respect even among her family. Kumari was constantly buffeting up against the limits of what she could and couldn’t do. She was learning fast that while some boundaries could flex, there were others which had to be respected. Anything that appeared to snub the monarch was a definite no–no.
She carefully restacked the plates so that she could get one more in. She had huge respect for the queen, not least because she was an amazing lady, but this was important to her. They had a say in what she wore, what she said, where she went, what she did . . . she was damned if they were going to make her compromise on her moral stance as well. She straightened up. ‘Nevertheless,’ she said. ‘I will not be party to killing creatures for sport.’
‘Kumari . . .’ there was a warning tone to Ben’s voice.
‘You don’t understand—’ Kumari began.
‘No, Kumari, you don’t understand.’ Ben slammed the dishwasher shut so hard the glassware rattled.
Well. If he was going to be like that there was no point talking to him. Kumari turned her back to him.
Ben said nothing. She could feel him glowering. She began making two mugs of hot chocolate, smacking the mugs down and generally making more noise than was strictly necessary.
After a few minutes, Ben said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make a warm and soothing drink so violently before.’
Kumari stopped moving and looked down at where she’d spilled some hot chocolate on the counter by stirring too furiously. The incongruity wasn’t lost on her. She bit back a smile. ‘Pass me a paper towel, would you?’
He came and stood next to her and wiped up the spill. ‘I’m sorry I snapped.’
‘And I’m sorry I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘I want to, though. Explain it to me.’
He sighed. ‘I’m not sure I can. It’s important that I go.’
He put his arm around her waist and she laid her head against his shoulder.
‘Please,’ said Kumari. ‘I don’t want to see birds killed for no good reason.’
Ben sighed and pinched the bridge of this nose. ‘OK.’ He looked up. ‘OK, how about this as a compromise? I’ll tell Grandma that you’re not coming out for reasons of moral objection and that I’m staying at the house to keep you company. In return you agree to come and make small talk at the lunch after the shoot.’
She would have preferred to not have anything to do with it, but she could tell from the set of his mouth that he had reached
the limit of his negotiations. It was a fair compromise. ‘Deal,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
He smiled. ‘If it makes you happy . . .’
‘It’s hard negotiating family and spouse,’ she said. ‘What we do this Christmas will set the pattern for later Christmases. Balancing it all is hard.’
‘Especially with my family,’ said Ben.
Kumari thought about her first Christmas with her ex-husband. ‘Any family is difficult,’ she said quietly. ‘So long as we’re still a team at the end of it, it’ll all be fine.’
Ben pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. Kumari sank into his embrace and forgot that there were other things she needed to talk to him about.
Chapter 32
The Paragon Record
Is Kumari ready for a royal Christmas?
In a few weeks Kumari, the new Duchess of Westbury, will attend her first formal Christmas at Sandringham. What can she expect?
The direct relatives of the queen must attend Christmas at Sandringham. The only reasons for absence are illness or being in service abroad – Prince Benedict, for example, missed Christmas celebrations when he was stationed in active service in the Middle East. The direct relatives include Her Majesty’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
The royals arrive in strict order. The queen, who travels in her own private carriage which is attached to a regular scheduled train, is the last to arrive, so her family are waiting to greet her when she does.
The schedule over the Christmas period is strictly regimented and requires several changes of clothes. There are strict rules about what to do when. Kumari is in for a very interesting time. We are not the only ones to hope that the Duke and Duchess of Westbury will use the occasion to announce happy news of expansion to the family.
Turn to page 7 for a full run-through of the Sandringham Christmas schedule with dress codes and examples of what sort of food might be served.
Ben drove them in his own car. Two security vehicles followed them, but Kumari could easily ignore them and pretend it was just her and Ben, alone in a car, like normal people. Ben’s car wasn’t ostentatious. It would have passed for any other car. They had piled the presents, all carefully wrapped and labelled, in the back. Their luggage had been sent on ahead.
Christmas at the Palace Page 27