Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  There was an atmosphere of good will. Kumari forgot her earlier preoccupation and smiled, feeling genuinely buoyed by the mood. The group reached the church and lined up, in the correct order, to greet the queen when her car arrived.

  The service was not long. It was warm and moving. The family sat in the first few pews and the locals crowded the rest of the church.

  After the service, they walked back. Ben’s Uncle Richard started whistling. Ophelia bickered good-naturedly with one of the aunts. The two teenagers were having an involved discussion about a movie. Kumari shot a sideways glance at Ben, handsome in his buttoned-up greatcoat. He looked happier and more relaxed than she’d ever seen him before in public. This is what Christmas at Sandringham meant to him. Not formality and fine dining. It was about being with his family and being at peace with who he was. Something that didn’t happen automatically, even for princes. This was what ‘family’ meant to Ben. There were only three people in her family, so she hadn’t understood it before. She squeezed his hand, happy that he was happy.

  Thank goodness they had found a compromise around her not going to the shoot the following day. If they hadn’t she would have been dogged by a sense of resentment for being forced to support something she found wrong. She would have hated for that to ruin Ben’s Christmas. And, given that what she did the first Christmas would set the pattern for later ones, ruin every single Christmas after that.

  *

  The adults went straight to the Christmas lunch – which was lavish, but informal enough for there to be no seating plan and no starters. It still involved starched, white napkins and silver candelabra on the table. The meal centred around a beautifully roasted turkey, which was carved at the table by the chef. There was every sort of side dish you could ask for – vegetables, potatoes (both roast and mashed), a variety of sauces. Ben, who liked pigs in blankets, managed to sit so that he was directly in front of them. Everyone ate sparingly because there was more to come. Kumari ended up seated next to Georgie, who shyly told her about her interest in virtual world-building.

  At the end of the main meal, an enormous Christmas pudding was brought in by a steward, placed on the table and set alight. An involuntary ‘ooh’ went around the table as the blue flame caught. The steward cut the pudding and waiters distributed the portions. The whole thing ran like a choreographed dance.

  ‘Are you looking forward to the shoot tomorrow, Kumari?’ said one of the uncles.

  Kumari shot a glance at Ben. He gave a minute shake of the head. Wait? Hadn’t he told them she wasn’t coming? Whyever not?

  Though she was furious, she couldn’t drop Ben in it, so the best she could do was be non-committal. ‘Um . . .’ she said. ‘I’m not sure how I feel about it.’

  ‘Ah. First time?’

  ‘It would be, yes.’

  ‘It’s tremendous fun. You’ll love it,’ he said.

  Thankfully, someone asked him to pass the brandy butter and he was distracted enough to move on.

  Kumari quietly fumed that Ben hadn’t told his grandmother yet. She had asked him days ago. He seemed to sense that she wanted to talk to him and avoided eye contact through the whole of the cheese course.

  She tried to grab a few moments with him after the meal, but the whole family ended up in the drawing room again to watch the Queen’s Speech on the large screen that had been wheeled in while they were having lunch. The only member of the family who wasn’t there was the monarch herself, who, apparently, didn’t want to hear what people had to say.

  She leant in and whispered to Ben. ‘Did you have the chance—’

  He said, ‘It’s starting.’ Someone else shushed him.

  Kumari normally watched the speech with her father. They would each have a cup of tea and a mince pie and listen in silence until the end. Sometimes, Kumari would only watch the opening lines and then pick up a book.

  Here, everyone stood up for the national anthem and settled back down again, glasses of port in hand. Every so often someone would comment on what they thought Her Majesty was referring to. Or point out what she’d left out. They would immediately be shushed by the rest of the family. Kumari looked around her at the roomful of people she had grown up seeing on TV and remembered with a jolt that she was part of this family now.

  She glanced at Ben, who was watching his grandmother on the screen, a small smile on his face. She had married this man and now she was somehow spending Christmas with the queen. She was so busy with trying to keep up from day to day, that sometimes she forgot what it all really meant. She, who had been a relative nobody, now had access to powerful people. In fact, she was a powerful person. She thought about the Boost Her! initiative. A small part of her thought about Ben’s explanation of how people might feel she was using her power to unfair advantage and felt a bit bad about it. If she were looking in from the outside, she would definitely have hated to see that. But what use was power if you didn’t do good things with it? And where did you find the line that divided ‘helping’ from ‘corruption’?

  There was a small cheer and Ben nudged her. ‘She said, “New additions and expanded horizons”, that’s us.’

  Kumari smiled at him. Yes. Expanded horizons. She was only just realising where the limits of those horizons were.

  Chapter 35

  The Times Echo

  Britain set for post-holiday freeze

  Severe weather warnings are in place all over the country as the Met Office warns of snow, ice and blizzard-like conditions set to sweep across the country tomorrow. While all efforts are being made to keep the road networks open, police are warning against any unnecessary travel.

  ‘If at all possible, why not extend your Christmas stay a little longer and avoid travelling on the 27th and 28th of December,’ said a spokesperson for the RAC.

  Widespread disruption is expected on the rail networks and air travel is expected to be delayed. If you are due to fly out on the 27th or 28th, please check the status of your flight before you set off for the airport.

  Finally, there was time to relax and do as they pleased in this highly regimented holiday. She caught up with Ben and slipped her arm through his.

  ‘Back to our chambers?’ she said sweetly.

  Ben side-eyed her. ‘Sure.’

  They walked off together, neither of them speaking. Even though she was almost rigid with anger, Kumari held it together until they made it to Ben’s room. As soon as the door clicked shut, she rounded on him. ‘You haven’t spoken to the Queen about the hunt? You said you would. You’ve had plenty of opportunity, Ben. Why haven’t you?’ When he said nothing, she continued. ‘I am not going on this hunt. If you’re too scared to tell her, I will.’

  Ben sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. ‘It’s not her . . . I’m not afraid of telling her. She will understand, I’m sure. She seems to like you.’

  ‘Then what’s your hold-up?’ She put her hands on her hips. In the back of her mind, her decorum coach chided her ‘a lady does not stand like a common soldier’.

  ‘It’s me.’ He sat in one of the chairs and stared at the ground, his hands weaving over and over each other. ‘You see, I’m trying to decide how I feel about the whole thing. On the one hand, you feel strongly about hunting for sport. I respect that. On the other hand, I don’t have the same qualms about it as you do. It’s just a way of life around here. And going on the shoot . . . I’ve been going out there with my dad and my grandpa for as long as I can remember. It’s a touchstone. Something that doesn’t change.’

  He paused for a second, as though searching for the right words. When he spoke again, his voice was low. ‘When my mother first fell ill . . . Christmas was terrible. She was trying to enjoy the holiday as if things were normal, but we all knew that she was dying . . . we were torn between the hope that something would save her and the knowledge that it probably wouldn’t.’ He gave a half laugh. ‘Stupid as it sounds, I hoped there would be a Christmas Day miracle . . . On Boxing Day, she
was exhausted and Daddy didn’t want to leave her side, so Grandpa took us out. And for the first time in days, I was concentrating on something else . . . on shooting and spotting . . . and I forgot that things were bad. It was the only day in that awful time that I remember being normal.’ He looked up. ‘So the shoot isn’t just a shoot to me. It’s important. But so are you. And I feel I should support you and stay away . . . but I just . . . don’t want to.’ He sighed again. ‘I’m sorry, Kumari. I can’t explain it any better than that.’

  Kumari let her arms drop. All anger evaporated. ‘Oh, Ben.’ She carefully knelt in front of him. ‘I didn’t know. I should have realised.’ She took his hands in his. ‘Listen. This is my issue. Not yours. You don’t have to stay behind to keep me company. I understand.’

  He looked into her face. ‘But you’re my wife,’ he said. ‘We’re a team. Whatever your choice, I must support you. I want to.’

  She rested her palm against his cheek. ‘But being here, all this tradition, it makes you happy. I want more than anything for you to be happy. Let me talk to your grandma. I’ll explain. And then I’ll stay behind. I’ll be here when you get back. See. No big deal.’

  He stared at her for a long moment. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. Just because we do some things separately, doesn’t mean we’re not a team.’

  *

  Kumari was still thinking about this when she went to her room for yet another change of clothes. This time it was fairly quick as it didn’t involve a formal ballgown. It did involve jewellery, though. A simple necklace with a diamond pendant from the queen’s collection. Sinead fussed around her, pinning her hair in place.

  ‘It’s lovely having all these beautiful things to wear, but I’ve forgotten what it’s like to wear the same outfit for a whole day,’ Kumari grumbled.

  ‘It’s tradition,’ said Sinead. ‘It’s quite fun to do, as a design challenge. It’s not often you have to work on a winter wardrobe that includes the outdoors and the indoors all in one afternoon. I helped Mrs P out with Princess Ophelia’s wardrobe last year. She had the most incredible gown.’

  Kumari cast an eye at her reflection. This dress was fairly simple, compared to the rest of the outfits. A soft-grey wool dress with burgundy accents, with tights, naturally, and burgundy pumps.

  Sinead finished her hair with a clasp that was the exact same colour as the accents on the dress. She seemed to have something on her mind.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ Kumari said.

  ‘I was wondering if you would be needing me later tonight?’ said Sinead, her face colouring.

  Kumari thought of the night before. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘I was . . . wondering if you would mind if I left this evening instead of tomorrow morning. My flight to Ireland isn’t until the twenty-seventh, but it would be good to get some things done before and—’

  ‘Oh, Sinead, of course!’ Kumari remembered that she had a present for her. ‘Wait a minute. I have something.’ She went to the wardrobe where she had put the small bag she had brought with her. It was the only way she could think of to smuggle in a present without Sinead being the one to unpack it. She extracted an envelope. ‘Here. Merry Christmas.’

  Sinead took it, looking puzzled. ‘But, ma’am, I’ve already had a—’

  ‘That was your official present. This is from me,’ said Kumari. ‘Go on. Open it.’

  Sinead pulled out a letter and a printout of the cocktail menu from a bar in London. She had once let slip that she and her best friend went there every month after payday and were working their way through the menu.

  ‘It’s a voucher entitling you to two of each of the cocktails on their menu and three super-secret ones,’ said Kumari.

  ‘You remembered . . .’ said Sinead in an awed voice.

  For a second Kumari was confused. Of course she remembered. Sinead was one of the few people she saw every day. She was a friend. But, she realised, to Sinead, she was just her client. Power was great, but it was also lonely.

  ‘I called them myself,’ she said, in case Sinead thought she’d got her PA to do it. ‘Martin, the owner, seems like a lovely bloke.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Sinead, a catch in her voice. ‘This is so lovely.’ She moved towards Kumari, as though she was going to give her a hug but stopped. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.

  ‘Have a lovely Christmas, Sinead. You get off early. I’ll be fine. Thank you again for working over Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, it was a pleasure,’ said Sinead. ‘I’ve never been to Sandringham before. I’ve always wanted to see what it was like.’

  ‘Good.’ Kumari smiled. ‘I hope your flight is OK on the twenty-seventh.’

  Sinead tucked the envelope into her pocket and tidied up the last of the hair products. ‘The weather forecast isn’t great. There’s a snowstorm coming that day. I’m hoping I’ll be able to leave before it hits. Luckily, it’s only a short-haul flight. Should be fine.’ But her voice sounded anything but certain.

  Kumari made a mental note to speak to someone about the travelling conditions as soon as she could. Her parents were coming down on the twenty-eighth, which put them right in the middle of the predicted snowstorm. It might be better if she could get them down to Kensington Palace a day or two early. She would much rather they were stuck in London with her, than snowed in in their house in Yorkshire. Although, when she stopped to think about it, they might prefer to be at home. Hmm. One more thing to sort out.

  She waved goodbye to Sinead and let herself into Ben’s room through the adjoining door. He was staring out of the window. Kumari allowed herself a second to admire him. Tall and broad-shouldered, he could really carry off a suit. It was just as well, really, considering he had to wear them so much. He turned. His blue eyes caught her gaze. He smiled, eyes softening, and Kumari couldn’t help but smile back.

  She held her arms out towards him. ‘Ready?’

  He crossed the room in a couple of strides and took her hands in his. ‘Of course. Let’s go and see Grandma.’

  *

  It wasn’t going to be easy to catch the queen before they went into the hall and sat down. Once they were seated, it would be awkward for them to go up to the head of the table to speak to her, so they would have to talk to her at pre-dinner drinks. Kumari scanned the room as soon as she got there and spotted the monarch sitting with her dogs by the fire, seemingly deep in conversation with one of Ben’s uncles. Kumari gripped Ben’s hand and marched over.

  Ben cleared his throat. The uncle looked up. ‘Ah, Benedict. Kumari,’ he said.

  The queen, who seemed absorbed in scratching behind the dog’s ears, said without looking up, ‘Did you want to speak to us, Kumari?’

  ‘Um . . . yes, ma’am. It will only take a few minutes.’

  ‘Certainly,’ she said. ‘If you’ll excuse us a moment Freddy.’ She carried on petting the dogs.

  It was awkward towering over the older lady, so Kumari knelt on the floor. So did Ben.

  ‘It’s about the Boxing Day shoot tomorrow,’ said Ben.

  ‘I don’t . . . I won’t be joining you,’ said Kumari. There was no point tiptoeing around it.

  The queen levelled a stern glance at her.

  ‘I mean,’ said Kumari, realising her mistake. ‘I would like permission to not attend.’

  ‘I see. And you have a good reason, one presumes?’

  ‘I don’t agree with hunting for sport, ma’am.’

  The queen’s sharp blue eyes, the same colour as Ben’s, looked into Kumari’s. ‘A moral objection, then,’ she said. ‘Very well. We must live according to our conscience.’

  Was that it? Was it that easy? Why had Ben been so worried? ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  ‘Of course, Kumari. We know you have a strong sense of what is right and wrong. One is glad that you tackled the matter before the event.’ The queen held her gaze. ‘It is always advisable to ask for permission,
rather than forgiveness. Don’t you agree?’

  This was a warning. She was being told that there were boundaries and the queen wouldn’t take kindly to Kumari overstepping them. It was almost as though she knew what Kumari had been thinking.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Kumari. ‘I understand.’

  The queen nodded. ‘And what of you, Benedict?’

  ‘I’m coming out tomorrow,’ said Benedict.

  ‘You would abandon your wife and partake in an activity she finds abhorrent?’

  Ben met his grandmother’s gaze. ‘No, Grandma,’ he said deliberately. ‘I’m giving my wife some space to herself while I go out hunting with my grandpa.’

  The queen laughed. ‘Of course you are. Your grandpa will be delighted that you’re going. He always enjoys these romps.’ She looked across the room at her husband. ‘Even at his age,’ she said, smiling.

  The dinner gong rang. Ben rose to his feet and helped Kumari up. ‘Shall I walk you in to dinner, Grandma?’ he said.

  Benedict offered her a hand to help her rise. She gave him a scornful look and stood up by herself. ‘Oh no, thank you, Benedict. I believe Richard is doing the honours this evening.’

  A few minutes later, Kumari walked into the dining room with Ben. ‘What was all that about permission rather than forgiveness?’ Ben whispered to her. ‘What’s going on?’

  Kumari shrugged. ‘Nothing, as far as I know.’ And nothing could happen now, because the queen had effectively told her not to. Although how she knew was a mystery.

  Chapter 36

  www.glamourous.co.uk

  Kumari breaks the Internet with stunning green dress

  Just when you thought Kumari couldn’t be any cooler, she rocks up to the most formal of formal occasions, Christmas Eve dinner at Sandringham, wearing a ball gown designed for her by the little-known British designer, Pema. Formal photographs released by the palace yesterday show the duchess standing next to her husband, Prince Benedict, looking radiant in dark green. She outshone even Princess Ophelia, normally the most exuberant of the royals. The only disappointing thing about this dress is that it shows that Kumari’s stomach is so flat that it’s unlikely she’s hiding a baby bump. We’re gutted because, just look at those two! Wouldn’t they have the most gorgeous babies?