by Jenny Frame
Cammy rubbed her chin in a nervous fashion before saying, “I may be speaking out of turn here, but it appears to me that the Queen really cares about you and your friendship, so be careful with her, please?”
“Of course, Cammy. You have my word.”
“Good enough. Cheerio then, Bea.”
“Goodbye, Cammy.” As the screen went blank, Bea thought, Georgie cares about me? Somehow deep inside she’d known that already, by the way the Queen looked at her, but she wasn’t prepared to think about what that meant.
I know how I can thank you, Georgie. She quickly called up an Internet shopping site and looked through all the items.
I have no idea which one to choose. I bet Dad would know.
Bea opened her bedroom door and shouted downstairs, “Dad? Can you come and help me?”
*
“This looks fine, Mama. Whatever you think is appropriate. You’ve been doing this a long time.”
The Queen and Queen Mother were discussing the upcoming banquet to be held at Windsor Castle. These events, known as dine-and-sleeps, were held several times a year, and various dignitaries were invited, depending on the occasion. This particular event was a thank you from the whole royal family to politicians on all sides, religious leaders, and community leaders, for their support since the King’s death. The event would also mark the end of his mourning period. The King, ever aware of putting duty before self, left instructions that he was to have a short mourning period. He wished the public and political parties’ focus to be on his daughter, the new Queen, and not on the King that came before.
“It is my pleasure to ease your burden, George, but you would do well to find a wife to help you in the long term. Your reign will be one of fresh ideas, modern ways of doing things, and in that you will need a younger woman helping you, not your old mother.”
George took a sip of her coffee and regarded her elegant looking mother with a smile. “You are not old, Mama, and as for the wife part…well, I know my duty.”
Queen Sofia sat closer to her daughter on the small armchair and took her hand. “Remember, there should be more than duty my dear. There should be love. Our family history is filled with couples who married for duty, and it brought great unhappiness to both parties and in some cases damaged the monarchy itself.”
“I know, Mama. I will try, but there is no one of our acquaintance that I feel that way about.” As George said those words to her mother, Beatrice Elliot’s face floated across her mind, and her heart sped up just a little.
“I have faith that the right consort for you will pop up, my dear, and you will give me some beautiful grandchildren. You are too guarded, perhaps, with the ladies, too careful. Let them see the warm, wonderful person inside. Your brother, on the other hand, shows too much of himself to the ladies. I fear he will never settle down.”
“Don’t worry so much about him, Mama. He has grown up a great deal since Father died. I will look after him.”
“I know you will, my dear. The family all look to you for strength and guidance. Just as they did with your father before you. That is why a consort to share your burden is so important.”
George was feeling uncomfortable. The one person who had seen her at her worst and soothed her soul was Bea, and she was very unsure what to do with those thoughts. She reached down and patted the dogs lying at her feet. After playing with her mother’s dachshund for a while, the pups settled down to sleep, cuddled up together.
“So, the whole family is going to be on parade?”
“Yes, all have confirmed. Your aunt Grace has been helping organize the family. It will be nice to have everyone together again.”
George sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I must make some time to talk to Aunt Grace and Cousin Vicki about the stables, with the polo and riding season coming up. I must see how the horses are doing, but I’ve just been so busy I—”
Her mother stroked her cheek tenderly. “I understand how hard you’ve been working. Those red boxes never end, do they? Your father kept many late nights trying to get through it all.”
“Papa never complained and neither will I. Duty before self.”
“Indeed. It must be done. Oh, before I forget, your cousin Julian has asked that Princess Eleanor be asked to the dine-and-sleep.”
George raised an eyebrow. “Why? We are thanking people who have supported the family since Papa’s death. What has Eleanor to do with it?”
“Apparently he and his wife Marta have met her at various social events, and she has expressed a hope to be received by you. I know that you think her presence here is somewhat…underhanded, but courtesy dictates that you receive a visiting royal. At least at a function like this, you will have plenty of reasons to circulate and not have your time monopolized.”
With a huge sigh, the Queen acquiesced. “Very well. I wonder why Julian cares so much.”
“I have no idea, but he did ask Granny to put in a good word for her also.”
“Hmm. Suspicious if you ask me. I wonder if he will manage not to sneer at me for the terrible crime of inheriting the throne, just for this one night.”
Queen Sofia chuckled. “He always was an envious little boy and far too proud, in the worst possible way. So unlike his brother and sister.”
Lady Victoria and Lord Maximilian Buckingham, known as Max, were very close to George and Theodore. They grew up together, spending holidays together having fun, and they all shared a love of horses. Julian, on the other hand, always kept himself somewhat separate from them all.
George had a thought pop into her head. “Mama, is it too late to add one more invitation?”
“No, we always keep space for a few more in case of cancellations. Who would you like to invite, my dear?”
George suddenly found the cup and saucer in front of her very interesting. “I would like to ask Miss Beatrice Elliot to come.”
“Miss Elliot? Is she something to do with the charity you’ve been touring with? The republican?”
George stood and walked, hands behind her back, to the large window in her mother’s sitting room. Rex, who was now extremely attached to George, got up and followed after her. “Yes, Mama. She is the regional director of Timmy’s, the hospice charity. We have become friends and she has been a great support to me. And I would like to thank her.” George stroked Rexie’s head as he stood at her side.
Queen Sofia smiled and said, “Of course, George. If that is your wish, I shall send the invitation out as soon as possible. I’m sure Granny would be delighted to meet her—I don’t think she has ever met a republican face to face.”
George walked back over to her mother, feeling much more relaxed. “I have been working on putting our views across, as Granny challenged. I hope Miss Elliot’s views may be softening.”
“Excellent. I have every faith in your powers of persuasion.”
Chapter Eleven
After meeting with her mother, George returned to her office, followed by her dogs, to continue with her paperwork. Just as she sat down, Sir Michael came in with another six red boxes to be done. George’s heart sank, but she made no outward sign to her private secretary.
Two hours later, George was struggling with a headache and blurry vision, one sentence seeming to merge into another, so when Cammy interrupted her work, it was most welcome.
“Good God, man, you look awful.”
George had to smile. “Thank you very much, Captain. That’s a lovely way to talk to your Queen.”
“Well, who else is going to tell you? You need to take a break, and I have the excuse. Miss Elliot called me earlier.”
George immediately brightened. “What for?”
“It seems that her parents received your note and your gift. She wanted to thank you personally, but she didn’t know how to contact you.”
George tried not to appear too interested in this new information. “Oh? Did she seem pleased?”
“She seemed over the moon.”
George looked at the
time. “Ten o’clock. Do you think it’s too late to call back?”
“No, Your Majesty, I’d go for it.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Cammy opened the door to leave, then turned and said, “Oh, and George? She is a lovely wee lassie. I had my reservations at the start, but she’s been a loyal friend to you.”
George couldn’t help the huge smile which now adorned her face. “Thank you, Cammy. I appreciate that.”
“Ring for me when you’re ready to turn in, Ma’am.”
“I will do. Could you organize something for my head? It’s a little sore.”
“Of course, Ma’am.” Cammy gave a quick head bow and left.
*
Bea lay on her bed cuddling her teddy bear, the TV playing absently in the background. She had found it difficult to concentrate on anything, as thoughts and feelings buzzed around her head; all that she believed in seemed to be turning upside down.
The tablet by her bedside came to life and announced, “Caller withheld.” Her heart started to pound. There was only one such person who called her regularly. She jumped up and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tidy it up a bit, and then looked down at her nightie with the bunny cartoon character on. “Oh God. Why didn’t I wear my silk nightie?” With no choice, Bea answered the call.
George appeared on screen and immediately beamed with a smile. “Good evening, Bea. I hope you aren’t annoyed that I’ve called so late. I only just got the message that you called, and I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”
“No, I’m delighted you did, Georgie. I was anxious to speak to you—I want to thank you for your kind gift to my parents. They were so excited.”
“I’m delighted they liked it. It’s just a small token, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not, and the invitation to the tea party? My mum is overjoyed. I know there are hundreds of people there and only very few meet you, but just to be asked…”
“They will meet me—I’ll ask for them to be introduced. My staff go through the crowd to pick out interesting people for me to meet, and I’ll make sure your mother and father are first on the list.”
She is too good to be true. Bea gave a coy smile and said, “Are you trying to butter me up, Queen Georgina?”
“Why would I do that?” George looked stricken. “I’m your friend, I thought—”
“I’m only kidding, Georgie, it was very kind.” Bea was constantly amazed at how unsure of herself George was. She watched her on public engagements, and a more confident woman you could not see, but with her, in private, she seemed to react differently.
“Well, it was my pleasure.”
She saw George’s eyes rove over her, and again she wished she had chosen something nicer to wear to bed. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit underdressed.”
George smiled at her. “On the contrary, I’m the one that called you at this late hour, and I think you look very cute.”
Bea felt her cheeks flush. “It’s not very appropriate when talking with the Queen though, is it?”
George’s look became serious. “When I talk to you in private, I don’t want to be the Queen—I just want to be George, just George.”
There was a hint of longing in her friend’s voice that touched her somewhere deep inside; she wanted to soothe that part of George, if only through friendship. “Okay, Georgie. You’d better meet my bedmate then.”
George looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Ah, I don’t think this—”
Bea held a traditional teddy bear. “This is my bedmate every night, Rupert.”
George let out an audible sigh and began to chuckle. “Oh, that’s your bedmate? A teddy bear?”
“You didn’t think…?” Bea started to ask in surprise.
“It doesn’t matter, please do ignore me.”
Bea looked her friend in the eye and explained so there would be no misunderstandings. “Georgie, there is nobody that shares my bed, apart from Rupert here, and even if there were, I would never expose your privacy by letting anyone else hear our conversations.” Bea looked at Rupert and stroked his fur. “I value our friendship too much.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
Bea felt something change between them in those few words, and even though physically they were miles apart, she felt somehow connected to this extraordinary woman. “Danny told me about the American donor.”
George thought for a second and then replied, “Ah. Yes, she spoke to me at the UN reception. She was very keen to donate to one of my charities—and publicize the fact, most likely. I immediately thought of Timmy’s.”
“Do you know how much that money means to us? Not to mention the fact that our UK donations have gone through the roof.”
“That’s my job, Bea. I’m the head of Britain PLC, and it’s my job to promote British interests around the world. Do you see why I take my job so seriously? You might think the traditions silly, and the institution outdated, and maybe if we were starting the country from scratch tomorrow, we wouldn’t have a monarchy, but we’re not. The monarchy is part of the British brand, and I will fight tooth and nail for this country and its people wherever I am, every business, every charity. I hope you can appreciate that.”
Bea was finding herself swayed more and more by the sheer belief George had in what she stood for. “I appreciate what you do, Georgie, and you’ve opened my eyes to that. You work so hard and you really care, but every monarch is not like you, and the people have no control over who comes after you.”
As the conversation continued, George felt she was really getting somewhere with Bea, and it came to her mind that Bea was exactly the sort of person the monarchy needed. Someone to challenge the old ways of doing things, come up with fresh ideas, and question and counsel, when the monarchy needed it. Above all else, Bea was dedicated to the service of others.
A perfect Queen Consort.
George mentally slapped herself for even thinking that and hoped Bea didn’t notice the crimson she felt creep up her face. “So, tell me about Rupert,” George blurted out.
“Rupert was my sister Abigail’s bear.”
George felt stupid for asking. Bea had always clammed up when the subject of her sister arose. “Please, forgive me. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, please. I’d like to talk about her. I can’t really talk to Mum and Dad about her a lot. They still get very upset.”
“I would be glad to listen—I know it’s helped me a great deal talking to you about Papa.”
Bea absent-mindedly played with the bear’s slightly worn ear as she relayed the story about her sister. “I was too young to realize that Abby was going to die. I just thought she’d always keep getting ill and going into hospital. Abby had a rare form of leukaemia—she fought it for three years. Then when she was eight, the doctors told Mum and Dad she wasn’t going to get better. I hated when she went into hospital—it was a sterile, scary place to me as a child—but when she started to go into the hospice instead, it was different, better in some ways. I didn’t know that meant there was no hope anymore. I just saw a bright, friendly place where my sister could be comfortable. The walls were painted with children’s characters and there were toys…things didn’t seem so bad.”
Tears started to fall from Bea’s eyes, and George felt frustration that they were so far apart and she couldn’t offer her friend comfort. “How long did she live after that?”
“Two months. Mum said even though it was at the end of her life, hospice was a time when Abby and the family were most at peace, because of the drugs and therapies available there.”
Bea held Rupert to her chest tightly, as if trying to get closer to her sister. “There was a shortage of beds, though, and she was in and out of the hospice all through that time. As I grew up I knew I wanted to make things better for kids like my sister, and that’s why I get so angry about the budget given to the health service. I’ve raised money all through school and university for hospice
and cancer charities, and when I graduated, I knew what I wanted to do.”
She wiped away the tears and said, “I miss my sister every day, and I always wonder what kind of woman she would’ve become, but I feel close to her when I have Rupert here. Abby died holding him.”
George felt her arms physically ache with the want to hold Bea, but all she could do was offer her words of support. “I’m sure she would have been a fine young woman, and wherever she is, I’m certain she’s proud of all you have achieved, Bea.”
“Do you think there is a wherever else? A heaven or afterlife?”
George answered immediately with conviction. “Of course. I am the defender of faiths, remember? At my coronation next year, I will take my vows before God, and you know I don’t take vows lightly. I know my papa is looking down on me, guiding me as best he can, as Abigail does you. That’s my belief anyway.”
Bea smiled at her.“Do you visit the King’s grave often?”
“Oh yes. He is buried here at Windsor, in St. George’s Chapel, along with his brother. When I’m in residence, I go down to the chapel to think, to pray and talk to Papa and Uncle George. It gives me great comfort. Was Abigail buried?”
“Yes, but I don’t get there very often. Mum won’t go, she can’t face the pain, even to this day. I know Dad goes and tends to the flowers he has planted around the grave, but he and Mum don’t really talk about it, and I don’t like going on my own.”
On a whim George said, “Could I escort you there?”
Bea looked up in shock. “You? But you can’t just go to somewhere like that in private, cameras will follow you, and think of the security—”
George held her hand up. “Listen. I have ways of getting to certain places as privately as possible, if you allowed me to organize it. I would like to—you’ve supported me through a difficult period in my life, and I would like to do this for you. As long as you don’t mind sharing this private time with me.”