H.R.H.

by Danielle Steel

  “I'm so sorry,” she said apologetically when she saw Geoff and Maggie. The full crew was there, minus Fiona, who was out in the bush delivering a baby, and had been gone for hours. Including Christianna, Max, and Samuel, they were seventeen now, of actual Red Cross workers. There were at least a dozen local Eritreans who worked with them, and Akuba and Yaw, who were from Ghana. “I fell asleep.” She looked mortified, but Samuel and Max looked pleased to see her, as did the others. They had just started eating. They were eating chicken and vegetables, and a huge bowl of rice with fruit mixed into it. They worked hard, and the quantities were generous enough to keep them going.

  “You needed the sleep,” Geoff said sensibly. “We'll show you everything you need to see tomorrow. I've already given Sam and Max the tour.” They had discreetly asked him to see everything, which was part of their duties as security covering her. But they had been fascinated by what they'd seen, and both men had been enchanted by the children, who seemed to be everywhere in the camp, dozens of them, all smiling, laughing, giggling, playing, as were some of their elders. The locals seemed like an exceptionally happy people, smiling or laughing all the time. Even the sick ones staying at the center were friendly and good-humored.

  Mary indicated an empty place for her to sit, next to Laure, and Christianna climbed over the bench and sat down. Didier was on Laure's other side, chatting to her in French, and Ernst was on Christianna's other side. He had been making idle chitchat with Max and Sam, in Swiss German since they were all Swiss by nationality, although Samuel was half Israeli and had served in both armies. Christianna understood them and laughed a couple of times. Then she turned to Laure and said something in French. There was no response. She blatantly ignored Christianna, and continued talking to Didier. She obviously had a chip on her shoulder, and Christianna had no idea why. She had done nothing to offend her.

  Christianna chatted easily with Mary Walker across the table instead. She was explaining the AIDS epidemic they were dealing with, and then went on to explain to Christianna what kala azar was, which was actually black fever, and sounded more like the plague, which involved blackening of the feet, face, hands, and abdomen. It sounded awful to Christianna, especially over dinner. Geoff added a few more gory details. But Christianna found it all fascinating, particularly their AIDS work. Mary mentioned that the Médecins Sans Frontières team, Doctors Without Borders, would be coming back in a few weeks. They flew in once a month, bringing a larger medical team than the one they had on hand at the camp in Senafe. When necessary, they brought surgeons, and did surgery as needed. They flew in for emergencies as well, although most of the time Mary and Geoff handled everything that came up, including emergency appendectomies, and cesarean sections. They were a full-service operation, Geoff said, teasing. He spoke highly of the Doctors Without Borders teams, which flew all over Africa in small planes, and delivered medical services wherever required, even in war zones, or the most remote places.

  “They're an amazing bunch,” he commented, as he helped himself to a huge portion of dessert. He was rail thin, and obviously burned off whatever he ate. He had eaten a healthy dinner, as had all the men at the table. The women seemed to eat less, although they ate well, too. They all worked hard, and enjoyed their evenings talking and laughing together over dinner. Most of them ate lunch on the fly, and Mary told Christianna that breakfast was served in the same tent at six-thirty. They started work early. Local women did the cooking, and had learned the kind of European dishes they all liked. Maggie was the only American on the team, and said the only thing she really missed from home was ice cream. She said she dreamed of it sometimes. She was a long, long way from home, but seemed immensely happy. They all were, except Laure, whom Christianna had noticed all through dinner. She always looked sad, and spoke very little. The only one she spoke to, in undertones in French, was Didier. She said very little to the others, and nothing at all to them throughout dinner. The others were all making an obvious effort to get to know Christianna and the two men who had come with her. Geoff had poured her two glasses of wine they had served in celebration of their arrival. And Max and Sam already seemed to be integrated into the group, among the men. There was a lot of bantering during dinner, and bad jokes in French, English, and German, all of which she spoke. It was a wonderfully international group.

  It was late when they all finally got up, and walked out into the warm African night, still talking and laughing. The men invited Max and Sam to play cards with them, and they accepted and said they would be back in the tent in a few minutes. They couldn't say it, of course, but they had to be sure that Christianna had settled into her tent for the night, which was after all why they were there. Geoff and Maggie went back to their tent arm in arm, and the cluster of women wandered slowly toward theirs, still chatting. Fiona hadn't come in yet, and the others assumed she was delivering a baby somewhere. The mortality rate among newborns in East Africa was terrifying, mostly in the twenty-four hours immediately before or after delivery. Fiona was single-handedly trying to improve those statistics, and she had convinced many of the local women to get prenatal care, and attended every delivery she could.

  Christianna asked if they worried about her traveling around alone at night. Mary Walker commented that she was fearless and the surrounding areas were pretty safe. They were close to the Ethiopian border, which was always somewhat concerning, but there hadn't been any problems or overt violations of the truce in several years, not that it couldn't happen. She said that the truce between the two countries was always tense, and the Ethiopians continued to feel that they had gotten a bad deal. They still wanted Eritrea's ports, but there had been no problems in Senafe, and the young Irish midwife was much loved by all those she tended. One of the other women Christianna had met that night, Ushi, was a German woman who was a teacher, and worked with the local children. She said that Fiona always had a gun on her, when she traveled at night, and she wasn't afraid to use it, although she'd never had to. Carrying weapons wasn't encouraged, but Fiona did it anyway, and given the circumstances, it was probably smart. Ushi, short for Ursula, had been warm and welcoming to Christianna and the two men. They all were, except for Laure, who walked back to the tent ahead of them in silence. She seemed like a very unhappy girl, and she had continued to glance at Christianna with inexplicable but visible dislike.

  The women chatted once they were in the tent, and put on their pajamas. Christianna would have loved a bath, or a shower, but had already been told it wasn't possible. There was an outdoor shower they all used in the morning, or early evening, as young local girls poured water over them, and boys did the same for the men. It was primitive, but Christianna had been told about it beforehand, so she wasn't surprised. She wasn't afraid of the discomforts she might encounter, and the other women teased her about snakes and lions, and told her they might get into the tent at night. They teased everyone about it when they arrived. They were all like girls at camp, and Christianna loved it. It was everything she had hoped for, and she already loved the gentle Senafe women she'd seen. They were so beautiful and exotic and always smiled.

  Christianna was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Some of the women read in the light of their battery-operated lamps. Others slept. They had taken her to the bathroom outside, and one of them had stayed with her, because she was still afraid of snakes, but nothing terrible had happened. It was a rudimentary outdoor affair that in essence was nothing more than a hole in the ground with a seat over it, a shovel, and a big bag of lime. That was going to take some getting used to, Christianna thought to herself with a small shudder, but one did what one had to. She suspected she'd get used to it in time. She was sound asleep before any of the others, some of whom talked in quiet whispers, and said they liked her. She seemed like a very sweet girl, and would be a good addition to the team. They had the feeling she came from a good family, probably from money. She was well spoken, discreet, polite, and spoke several languages fluently, but she was also without art
ifice or pretension and seemed extremely straightforward and natural, and they liked that about her.

  Laure shrugged as she listened and said nothing. Mary wondered if she was jealous, since they were about the same age, but she wasn't close to the others in the camp either. Laure was the only squeaky wheel in the group, and seemed unhappy most of the time. She was going home in two months, according to plan. She was one of those rare people who hadn't fallen in love with Africa, neither the continent nor the people, and hadn't enjoyed much or anything about it. She had brought her problems and sorrows with her. Mary knew from Laure's aunt, Marque, that she had been jilted nearly at the altar, two days before her wedding, and her fiancé had run off with her best friend and married her. Laure had been miserable ever since, and still was, and even the distraction of working there hadn't helped her much. She was going back to working at UNICEF in Geneva, and seemed to have benefited little from the extraordinary experience she'd had here. She was surprisingly cynical, and even bitter, for someone so young.

  Fiona came in at four in the morning, and the others were all asleep by then. She had delivered two babies that night, and everything had gone well. She got into her bed, and was asleep within minutes. At six o'clock, their alarm clocks started going off, and the women began to stir. They were all good humored when they got up, and headed to the shower together, in their bathrobes, with their towels over their arms. Fiona was up and on her feet with the rest of them, and in good humor, after two hours of sleep. She was used to it, and did it often. She almost never slept in, unless she'd had an exceptionally rough night. But even then, she was usually in good spirits. She loved to sing old Gaelic songs in the shower at the top of her lungs, just to annoy them, and they always groaned and told her how awful her voice was. She loved it. She was the camp clown.

  Christianna was dressed and in the dining tent promptly at six-thirty. She ate a hearty breakfast of porridge and eggs, with a bowl of berries that had been grown in the camp. She drank an enormous glass of orange juice and smiled at Max and Sam when they walked in. Breakfast was quick since everyone was busy, and by seven o'clock everyone was doing their jobs and hard at work. Christianna saw Max leave in an old car shortly after that, and Samuel told her quietly that he was going into Senafe, to the post office, to call her father and report in. She nodded, and as directed, followed Mary into the main hut, where the women and children with AIDS were treated and housed.

  Mary explained to Christianna, as Geoff had during the bus trip, that they gave pregnant women with AIDS a single dose of the drug nevirapine four hours before delivery, and the baby a small dose during the first few days after its birth. In most cases, that reduced the risk of AIDS by fifty percent, according to studies. The real problem came when they had to convince the mothers to feed their babies formula, not by breast. If they breast-fed their babies, they almost inevitably gave them AIDS, but formula was a foreign concept to them, and they were suspicious of it. Even if the volunteers gave them formula at the center to take home with them, often they didn't use it, sold it, or traded it for other things they needed more. It was an uphill battle, Mary said. And AIDS education for prevention of the disease was an important part of what they did. She had been thinking that Christianna might be good at that. She had a pleasant, gentle way that the women she stopped and spoke to seemed to like, as Mary watched her and translated for her, as needed, until she learned the local dialects. She had an almost professional way of going quietly from bed to bed, saying a few words, offering comfort, and dealing with the African women with warmth, kindness, compassion, and respect.

  “Have you ever worked in a hospital?” Mary asked with interest. She had no way of knowing how many hospitals Christianna had visited in her life as a princess. This was standard fare for her. She knew just how long to stay and chat, without wearing the patients out, but still giving them the impression that she was interested in what they said, and making each one feel as though they had her undivided attention.

  “Not really,” Christianna said vaguely. “I've done some volunteer work.”

  “You have a lovely bedside manner,” Mary complimented her. “Maybe you should think about being a doctor or a nurse.”

  “I'd like that,” Christianna said, smiling, knowing only too well that there was no chance of it. Mary had been impressed as well that she didn't seem to flinch at the sight of the worst sores, or the ugliest of wounds. Whatever she saw before her, she remained gracious, warm, and seemingly unaffected. “My father expects me to go into the family business when I get home” was all she said.

  “Shame. Something tells me you've got a gift for this.” The two women smiled at each other, as Mary continued to introduce her to patients, and then walked her into another hut, where Geoff was doing checkups, and giving vaccinations. The tiny waiting room was full of patients, and playing children. Once again Christianna stopped to talk to each of them briefly, as though she had done this before.

  Fiona took her off to meet some of her pregnant patients after that. Mary stopped to talk to Geoff for a few minutes after Christianna left with Fiona.

  “She's awfully good at this,” Mary commented briefly. “She has a lovely way with people. It's almost as though she's not new at it. She's wonderful with the patients. I think I'd like her to do AIDS education for me. And she can work with Ushi with the kids.”

  “Whatever you like,” Geoff said over the howls of a screaming child who had just gotten a shot. He wasn't surprised that Christianna was good with patients. Knowing what he did of her, and the others didn't, he assumed correctly that she had visited hospitals all her life. She didn't need to use her title of princess, he could see by watching her that she was royal to her core, and had lovely, gentle ways. She made everyone feel comfortable around her, and yet she wasn't afraid to have fun, to tease and laugh and joke, just like everyone else. He was very glad she'd come, although he'd had some trepidations about it. He could see now what a good addition she was to the team, how well she fit in, and they needed the extra pair of hands, not only hers, but those of her two men. And much to Geoff 's surprise, she wasn't difficult, demanding, or spoiled. She was in fact, open, interested, and humble.

  Christianna spent the rest of the morning with Fiona, talking to pregnant women. She helped herself to some food in the dining tent at lunchtime, and didn't bother to sit down to eat it, but ate it on the run. And then she spent the rest of the day with Ushi, teaching the children. Christianna loved doing it, and had taught them two new songs in French before they left. Ushi looked at her with a broad smile as they went outside for some air, and complimented her generously, as the others had.

  “You know, you have a gift,” Ushi said, as she lit a cigarette.

  “No,” Christianna said quietly, “being here in Africa is the gift.” She said it with such obvious gratitude to be there that Ushi leaned over and gave her a hug.

  “Welcome to Africa,” Ushi said, as she hugged her. “I think you're going to love it here, and you're right where you belong.”

  “So do I,” Christianna said almost sadly. She had only just arrived and was falling in love with it. She was already sad, knowing that one day she would have to leave. She had found the life she wanted, and knew just as certainly that one day she would have to give back the gift. Thinking about it, she was quiet all the way back to the women's tent.

  “What are you looking so depressed about?” Fiona asked her when she saw her. She had just come in herself, and was going out to patients again that night.

  “I don't ever want to leave,” Christianna said, looking mournful, as Fiona grinned.

  “Uh-oh, everybody, she's got it,” Fiona said to the room at large, as the other women glanced over. Most of them had just finished work, and were enjoying a break before dinner. “She's got African fever! Quickest case I've ever seen.” Christianna laughed at the description, as she sat down on her bed. She had worked for ten hours straight and loved every minute. “Just wait till you see a snake.”
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  The others laughed, and so did Christianna. She played Scrabble after that with Ushi in German, while Fiona did her nails. She wore bright red nail polish even here. She said it was the one indulgence she couldn't give up. And as she looked around the room at the other women, Christianna knew she had never been happier in her life.

  Chapter 8

  As Christianna headed for the dining tent the next morning at six-thirty, Max was waiting for her discreetly outside her tent. She was surprised to see him, and he spoke to her in a whisper.

  “Your Highness,” he whispered, and she stopped him almost as soon as the words came out of his mouth by habit and reflex. She looked instantly upset.

  “Don't call me that,” she whispered back. “Just call me Cricky, like everyone else does.” She had told them all her nickname the day before.

  “I can't do that, Your …oh… sorry …” He blushed.

  “You have to,” she said to him, and whispered even lower, “that's a royal order.” He grinned. “Why were you waiting for me?” It looked like a serious conspiracy between them as Maggie and Fiona walked by on the way to breakfast.

  “I spoke to your father yesterday. I didn't get a chance to tell you last night.” They had never been alone.

  “Is he all right?” She looked momentarily worried until Max nodded.

  “He's fine. He said to send you his love. If you want to talk to him, I can drive you to the post office sometime. It's not too far.”

  “Maybe in a few days. I don't have time right now. There's too much to do here.”

  “I'm sure he understands. I told him you were fine.”

  “Good. Was that all?” He nodded. “Thank you, Max.” She smiled.

  “You're welcome, Your—” He stopped himself before he said it, and she laughed.