CHAPTER 9
They were in the coach and on the way home from the circus: Princes Serena gazing steadily through the window; Miss Penny Pennington gazing steadily at Princess Serena. From all appearances, it had been a most successful day with a steady flow of people approaching Miss Penny to say how wonderful they thought the Princess was and how much they enjoyed having her with them here in Yeltsin. And Miss Penny had smiled and agreed.
But Miss Penny was puzzled. Puzzled and worried. No doubt about it, the Princess was up to something. What it could be, she had no idea. That business of wanting a rest on the way to the circus; making them stop the coach and saying she wanted to be alone; fussing about the driver; shouting at the escort. The worrying thing was that she had been so nice lately, so easy to get along with, had been for quite some time, but as soon as she stepped into the coach that morning, back she was to being her old nasty self. Miss Penny had been sure a miserable day lay ahead, but no, quite the reverse, from the moment they arrived at the Circus there was nothing but smiles and a ready flow of non-stop charm. Definitely something.
Suddenly the Princess turned from the window: ‘Miss Penny, I’m so sorry about this morning, I really didn’t mean to say the things I did – you know, about you being an old crow. I don’t know what made me say such a thing and I’m truly sorry. Really, I am.’
Miss Penny laughed. ‘All right, I forgive you, though I have to say I’ve been called a deal worse – by you, as a matter of fact.’ She reached across to take the Princess’s hand. ‘We didn’t get along at all well at first, did we? A difficult time for both of us, those first few months.’
‘No, Miss Penny we didn’t. But we do now, don’t we? Please say we do.’
Miss Penny nodded and smiled. ‘Yes we do, Serena, and each day we get to know each other that little bit better and understand one another more and more.’
And Penny, sitting back in her seat and with eyes still fixed on Serena, remembered those early months and the many times she had thought of resigning her post, of leaving Mandredela. Not only because of the difficulties she had been having with Serena, but because she had a bigger problem, a much bigger problem: the Prince.
One of the first conditions she agreed upon when she accepted the position of Governess and Tutor to Princess Serena was an arrangement to report to him on a regular basis. ‘Nothing formal, just a get-together chat,’ said the Prince. ‘Exchange ideas, see how she is doing.’
‘I admit she can be a difficult child.’ she remembered him adding. ‘What’s more, being in the care of people who made not the slightest attempt to understand her didn’t help. Not that I have anyone to blame but myself - after all, I was the one who did the choosing - but you have an impeccable record, Miss Pennington, and a great deal of experience with children. Somehow, I have a feeling things are going to be different from now on.’
He was right,things were different. Very different. Oh, they met regularly enough: meetings once a week, more often twice, but they could hardly be described as ‘having-a-chat’ meetings. More like battle zones.
‘Do you ever for a moment stop to think about the kind of life your daughter is forced to live – no playmates to rough and tumble with, to squabble with? No one to fight and make up with, to adventure and get in trouble with. Nothing but servants and tutors and, yes, the likes of me. All the poor girl ever hears is “Yes Princess” or “Of course, Princess.” So how can you possibly expect her to grow up knowing about the ordinary, every-day things in life, the important things, when everyone around her does nothing but agree with every single, solitary word she says, everything she does. And you, her father, seem determined to fight me at every turn.’
And, once a week, more often twice, the Prince would turn a deep red, would explode and say: ‘Poor girl you say! Do nothing! How can you possibly say such things? Have I not followed through on your recommendations – even the clearly idiotic ones – reprimanded her when I thought she needed it; encouraged her and spent time with her, did everything you said for me to do? Playmates you say! Rough and tumble? Such nonsense! You seem to forget she is a princess – a princess of royal blood with a future that is bound to be different from other girls and, like it or not, that is the way it is. Has to be.’
‘Yes, all right, I hear what you say and must admit there are times when you do try, but then you spoil it all by giving in to her at every turn. The first glimmer of a tear and off you go to get whatever it is she happens to want like a world champion sprinter. She’s a lovely girl, and yet you seem determined to do all you can to spoil that loveliness.’
‘Really! Well then, if that is what you really think, why not resign? Nothing I do seems to satisfy you and I am heartily sick of having to go through this wearisome shouting match every few days. All I can say is I have tried my best and, if you do not like the way I do things, then pack your bags and leave! Be a lot quieter around here and that’s a fact! And, what’s more, you also seem to have a great deal of trouble remembering exactly who I am. No one else ever thinks to talk to me the way you do and that, I have to say, is another reason I think you should leave.’
‘You are right. I shall leave at the end of the month. Be glad to see an end to this endless struggle that is fast getting us nowhere, having to deal with nothing but stubbornness. Yes, I shall do exactly what you suggest and resign!’
‘Good! I’ll make sure you do!’ he would say, usually standing at that point to leave the room. But, he didn’t, and she didn’t, and the meetings carried on as usual, at least once, more often twice a week.
Then, came the last meeting before the move to Yeltsin. So much to do: to discuss, to arrange, but Miss Penny had made a decision speak to him about the troublesome locket. No matter what. Oh, she was nervous, and no two ways: nervous and full of doubts. She was, after all, the girl’s governess, nothing more, and even as she entered the room, she was still questioning her right to interfere in what she knew was surely a family affair She knew, too, that if she failed to handle the Prince with a deal more care than she had in the past, she could well be signalling the end of her time in Mandredela. The truth was she didn’t want to quit, had never wanted to quit, had no intention of quitting: they were all a bluff, those threats to resign, and she shuddered to think how things would have been for her had the Prince accepted her word and insisted that she leave. She would have been devastated, no other word, and how she had ever thought to make such threats she simply did not know. The truth was she loved Serena, had loved her from the minute they met, and the thought of having to leave Mandredela was more than Penny dared contemplate. This time, no matter what, no matter how frustrated or angry she felt, she would try to keep her emotions in check, forget she even knew the word resign. Not just try - bite her tongue off first
The first surprise was that he was waiting for her - the first time ever, best she could remember. The second surprise was that he greeted her with what could only be described as his pleasant face – not a first time ever, but near enough - and the third surprise was that instead of them being separated by an enormous desk and a forbidding stretch of carpet, two chairs had been placed before a tall, floor to ceiling window that looked out across the valley to the snow-covered slopes of the Madre Mountains.
‘Breathtaking isn’t it?’ he said as soon as they were seated He actually gave a smile. ‘And so peaceful.’ He let the smile continue. ‘See that field in the distance, the one beyond the stream and the far copse of trees? Well, looking at it now, it is hard to believe that a famous battle was once fought there – a long drawn-out and bloody battle that proved absolutely nothing in the end - and I had a thought that our meetings could perhaps benefit from such a view; help them be a little more, shall we say, peaceful.’
‘I would like that,’ Penny replied. ‘So very much.’
‘Right, well then let’s put it to the test by saying right off that I would appreciate it if you would allow me to speak first and without interruption. Difficult, I know, but look
out the window if you feel a need to explode.’
‘First, let me say I know you have been talking to Serena about her mother and her – our - betrothal locket: Knew it as soon as she began pestering for it and, Miss Penny, let me say frankly that I was more than angry that you should – how shall I put it? – have the effrontery to believe you had some kind of right to be poking your nose where it didn’t belong, Into a family affair. Particularly I might add, because I felt you had lived in this country long enough to know our ways and must have surely come to understand how important Janine’s locket would be to me. Yet, you went ahead without talking to me first.’
Miss Penny tried to speak but the Prince raised a hand: ‘Then, last night at dinner, a real surprise! Serena told me that you and Janine were at school together. Were old friends.’ He had to raise his hand again. ‘I suppose I should have guessed, but I didn’t.,’ he continued. ‘Nor can I say why I reacted the way I did, but the fact that you had never thought to mention any of this - not a word at the interview and not a word since -.made me angry. Angrier than I can ever remember me being. As I say, I can’t think for the life of me why I should have felt the way I did, but what I do know is that soon as I could after dinner I was on my way to your room with no other thought but to tell you to pack your bags and leave. Yes, I know, once again, but maybe, this time, meaning it. But then, after trying my best to knock your door off its hinges and getting angrier by the minute, I happened to glance through a nearby window and there you were, you and Serena, walking hand in hand through the garden, smiling and chatting away as though you hadn’t seen each other for months.
‘Why I hadn’t seen it before I simply and truly do not know and, the more I think about it, the more I find it hard to believe how blind I have been these past years. It was as if a curtain had been torn from my eyes and all I could see was how much you cared for each other, you and my daughter. Could see, plain as the stupid nose on my face, just how much she needs you.’
His voice became a whisper: ‘It has been hard for both of us, for Serena and I, and it hasn’t helped her having a fool of a man for a father.’ He stood to pace the room. ’Anyway, I stayed watching until you had left the garden, then went straight to my rooms and searched until I found it – Janine’s box of letters. I’d read them before - of course I had – many times, but last night they seemed somehow different and I stayed half the night reading them again. Some I read twice, some many times more. You are ‘P’ aren’t you? The ‘P’ in her letters. A silly question! I know you are!’
He stopped pacing, sat again and pulled his chair closer. ‘She kept all your letters, you know. Every one, far as I can see. Great ones for writing, both of you; at least to each other you were; telling your hopes, your secrets, all you were doing – the latest gossip and they tell just how much she loved me, cherished our baby and how happy she was with her life. How good we were for each other.
‘Miss Penny, I have to tell you that last night I was happy too; the happiest I have known since it happened. Not only that, but your letters told me of a friendship that was a rare and wonderful thing and, the more I read, the more I realised that the one thing I would like – how shall I put it? – is to see if we could somehow let the friendship you had with Janine sort of shine through to us - make it so we could perhaps become friends. It is something I would dearly love, and I think Janine would have wanted it too.
‘Yes, she would,’ said Penny. She would have said more, but tears were perilously close and the best she could manage was another: ‘Yes she would.’
‘Fine then, that’s settled. No more threatening to leave, no more pitched battles and no more tiresome meetings.’ He raised both hands in front of his face: a boxer defending himself: ‘And no more denying I was right all along.’ For the first time there was laughter between them and there was more that evening as they planned the move to Yeltsin.
‘One thing!’ he exclaimed. ‘Your letters explained clearly enough why you were never able to visit us here in Mandredela and we were truly sorry to hear about your parents, but I’m still puzzled as to why you didn’t say you were ‘P’ when I first interviewed you. I think it might have helped, you know. Helped both of us.’
‘Yes I know and I am more than sorry, and all I can say is that I had a notion in my head of not wanting my friendship with Janine to influence you and, once I’d made such a great secret of it, I simply couldn’t seem to find the right time, or the courage. Silly I know and I’m truly sorry.’
Then came the biggest surprise in an evening full of surprises: ‘Oh, by the way I’ve decided that Serena should have her mother’s locket.’ He said it casually, almost as an afterthought: ‘As a matter of fact – and you possibly know this - she is actually entitled to it by law. Not that the law has stopped me putting it off for as long as I could and I feel that you, perhaps more than anyone, will understand just how difficult it for me to part with Janine’s locket, even to Serena. More than difficult. Anyway, the thing is that Janine and I would have been celebrating our wedding anniversary just about now, in four days time in fact, and I‘ve decided it would be nice for her to have it on that day.’
‘Really! Oh wonderful, I’m so pleased. She’ll be over the moon, thrilled to bits!’
‘Good, I’m glad you are pleased and I think you will agree our anniversary would be the perfect day for her to receive it.’
‘Yes it would, absolutely perfect! Mind, I suppose it would be just as nice for her to have it on her birthday, the day after we arrive in Yeltsin. It’s only a few days before.’
‘Yes, I thought about that, but I have something quite separate and very special in mind for her birthday. It’s a something I’ve been thinking about for quite some time, but all the time wondering whether or not I should wait until she is older before giving it to her. However – and maybe it is because I’ve been feeling guilty at holding on to the locket for so long - I’ve decided she should have it in time for her birthday. The trouble is, it might be very late by the time I get to Yeltsin, possibly after she’s in bed, so I’m going to give it to her in the morning before you leave. It’s a necklace. A beautiful ruby necklace that was given to my Grandmother, Princess Yarna, on her ninth birthday by the Dowager Empress Leanna almost a hundred years ago and even now as I’m telling you this, I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing. You see, not only is it a very valuable heirloom, but Grandmama Yarna insisted that when she died, the necklace should come to me in the hope that one day I would have a daughter who would wear it. She had no daughters herself and I have a feeling she left it to me because she was determined not to have the necklace ending up in the Royal Collection gathering dust. As I said, it was given to her for her ninth birthday and she loved it, treasured it all her life. Yes, I decided, the gift of a beautiful necklace and a day at the Shanghasi is surely enough for anyone’s birthday. Even Serena. The locket can wait a little while longer and no harm done.’
Tiger Lilly and the Princess Page 9