The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1)
Page 9
Renee stared out the window transfixed as they drove through the city and gasped as she stepped out of the sedan, helped by Roberts’s outstretched hand. There was nothing particularly showy about the hotel, but the glowing lamps on either side of the door and the warm light issuing from the windows and peeking through ivy was so charming as to make her catch her breath. It was like no building she had ever seen before. And this was just one building on the street. The rest were equally charming. Across the street was a park and what appeared to be a very old, small church. The dark, stone blocks were gave the church the appearance of a tiny fortress. It looked ignored and peaceful. She had hated her apartment for being “old.” Now she realized she would have to redefine the word. Chase watched the street nervously and coordinated the loading of the luggage onto the trolleys. He himself only carried a small duffel bag.
“Right this way, Ma’am. Home sweet home,” said Roberts.
Renee and Cassandra were shown to a suite on the top floor decorated in whites and creams. Vases of pale pink and peach roses were located in strategic places. Renee thought she had never seen any place more beautiful. Forget the palace, she could stay here forever, she thought.
“I hope you like the accommodations, Ma’am. You must be tired.” Roberts pulled out a pocket tablet. “In two days you will meet the prime minister.”
“That’s so soon! Do you think I’m ready?”
“Of course. Besides, what choice do we have?”
Renee did not feel bolstered by that. Roberts bowed out of the room, advising them to rest. Chase ran his fingers through his newly shorn hair. Renee tried not to let her eyes linger. “Mrs. Krebs, here is my card. It has my office number and personal number.” He paused. “If you need anything, do call. We will be back in the morning.” He looked exhausted. Renee merely nodded and watched him go.
Although she had not slept on the flight, she felt keyed up and unable to follow Robert’s advice to rest. It was the same whenever she moved to a new place. It was always at least three nights before she was able to feel comfortable enough to close her eyes and sleep. The hour was still early—it was morning. If she could keep herself awake through the day then maybe she would be able to avoid jet lag and sleep at night. Cassandra appeared to suffer no ill effects as she had slept well during the flight, and was tearing from room to room. Renee followed her, admiring the luxurious setting. They peeked out the window.
“The cars are going the wrong way,” said Cassandra.
“That’s the way they drive here,” said Renee. She wondered if she would have to retake driving lessons. Driving on the left seemed entirely against the laws of nature.
“Why don’t we go out?” said Renee suddenly. For the first time in days she was free of her companions and she wanted to explore her new city. She doubted she would have the opportunity to do so once everybody knew her face. Cassandra eagerly agreed and they dug out scarves and hats from the bottom of their luggage. It was still 90 degrees back home. They ran down the stairs, giggling like they were doing something illicit, past the concierge and a gentleman reading a newspaper.
The London air hit her face like a million flying ice chips and they both wrapped their scarves around tightly and buttoned up their coats.
“Where to?” asked Cassandra.
“I don’t know where we are. We need a map. And money.”
She looked into her purse with a sinking feeling. She didn’t have any money of her own. Roberts had used his “walking around money” to make all of the purchases and everything else went to a royal expense account she didn’t know anything about and could hardly use it on the street even if she did know. She spotted an ATM up the street and prayed her bank card worked here. She added a second prayer that Ray hadn’t yet emptied their account; she had worked hard for what was in there. She and Cassandra hurried to the ATM and whooped when her card slid in and her account information appeared on the screen. Should she withdraw it all or leave some for Ray to pay bills with? He hadn’t left her with anything when he walked out, but she wanted a clean conscience. She thought of the stack of bills on the corner table and decided to only withdraw forty pounds and leave the rest for him to clean up the bills with. It would be her divorce present to him, she decided.
She and Cassandra puzzled over the strange currency for a few minutes and Renee stared at her predecessor whose graceful image was stamped on the twenty pound note. She handed some of the money to Cassandra who pushed it into her coat pocket and then stepped into the street to visit the kiosk across the street to purchase a map. Renee grabbed her and pulled her back just as a car went screaming by.
“Where’d that car come from?” cried Cassandra, clinging to Renee in shock.
“It came from the direction you didn’t look. Remember, the traffic is different here so you have to look right-left-right instead of left-right-left.”
Cassandra nodded, shaken. It was a rude introduction to the country. Renee thought she saw the man from the hotel lobby who had been reading the newspaper. She didn’t know what he looked so surprised for—Cassandra was the one who had nearly been killed, not him. They looked carefully both ways this time before stepping again into the street. The map was duly purchased and they pored over it at a café around the corner. Although Renee could have killed for an iced tea, she ordered a hot one as an experiment as the weather was so cold. She bobbed the teabag in the hot water for a minute, added some milk from a tiny pitcher as she had watched Roberts do, and took a sip. She didn’t see what the big deal was. They nibbled on croissants with butter while they decided what to do.
“Can we see the crown jewels,” asked Cassandra. “Do you think they’ll let me try them on?”
“I don’t think so,” said Renee.
“Why not? They’re ours, aren’t they?”
“Keep your voice down, Cass. I think they belong to the country and we’re just allowed to wear them on special occasions.”
“Bummer,” said Cassandra.
They continued to look at the map and watch the people walk by and the traffic rumble past. A red double decker bus pulled up to the corner.
“Come on, you wanted to ride one, didn’t you?” Renee grabbed Cassandra’s hand and they ran to catch it. They jumped on just as it was leaving the curb and the driver helped them find the correct change. From the map they knew they were in an area called Mayfair. The driver asked them where they wanted to go. “Buckingham Palace!” said Cassandra. The driver told them it was on his route and he would take them to the right place. They climbed the little staircase to the second level and settled into seats. Renee gazed out the window and saw the man with the newspaper running at top speed to catch the bus, but it was already rolling down the street. You snooze, you lose, she thought.
The bus driver left them off by the Palace just as he had promised. The number of tourists crowding at the gates of Buckingham Palace prevented Renee and Cassandra from getting too close. Instead they climbed on a bench to get a better view. Black bunting draped from the balconies, a reminder that the country was in mourning. On a normal day the flag would have fluttered from the top of the pole had the sovereign been at home. Today, it hung sadly at half staff. The fact that there were no current residents didn’t prevent people from snapping pictures or shouting insults or jokes at the red-coated guards to get them to smile. Red coats, thought Renee with a sudden revelation. So that’s where that phrase comes from. Renee and Cassandra admired the building, agreeing that it was odd that they would soon see it from the inside.
“I thought it would be bigger,” said a pimply youth nearby to his father who had a camera draped around his neck. “This isn’t any bigger than the City Hall in Montreal. What a disappointment.”
Before Renee could stop her, Cassandra jumped down off the bench and went up to the youth who towered over her.
“Take it back,” she demanded.
He looked down at her, surprised. “Take what back?”
“Take back what you s
aid about my house.” Renee recognized that the set of Cassandra’s mouth meant nothing good.
“Come on honey, let’s go walk in the park,” she urged. “I think we can walk to Covent Garden from here.”
“No.” Cassandra shrugged off Renee’s grasp of her arm. “I want him to take back what he said about our house. He insulted it.”
“Are you crazy?” said the youth. “Only royals live in Buckingham Palace and they’re all dead.”
“They’re not!” Cassandra stamped her foot. “Me and my mom are going to live there because we’re the next in line. My mom is the new queen.”
Renee looked around worriedly. People were starting to pay attention. Someone took a picture.
“We’re sorry,” Renee mouthed to the youth’s father who was staring at them open-mouthed. Renee thought he looked as stupid as his son. She grabbed Cassandra’s arm and gripped tighter when Cassandra started to struggle. She marched her daughter away from the palace towards a quiet spot under a tree.
“You have to control yourself,” she said.
“But mom!”
“No buts. Right now nobody is supposed to know about us so you can’t start fights. Second, once we are royals you’ll need to start acting like it. People are going to talking bad about us all the time. Get used to it. Are you going to fight with everyone who doesn’t like you or your house?” Renee needed to make Cassandra understand that life was not normal anymore and that she needed to use caution.
“I will when I need to,” said Cassandra, defiantly.
“No, you will not. You will learn to keep your mouth shut.”
“Coward.”
That stung.
“I didn’t leave my town, leave my life and come to a foreign country to be called names by my own daughter,” Renee said angrily.
“You didn’t fight back against Ray,” said Cassandra.
“That was different.”
“Whatever.” Cassandra crossed her arms.
“We may be in England, but I’m going to give you an old-fashioned American butt-whooping when we get back to the hotel. Now say you’re sorry.”
Cassandra stared in the other direction, but mumbled sorry, still with her arms crossed. Renee softened her voice. She hadn’t realized until now that the years with Ray might have been hard on Cassandra too. She put her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders and stood an arm’s length away.
“We’re starting a new life here. It’s going to be very different and we’re going to be learning a lot and making a lot of mistakes. Let’s try to avoid the mistakes that are easy to avoid—like brawling with tourists, ok?”
“Ok, mom.”
Renee breathed a sigh of relief. “Shall we go see more of our city? We can pretend like we’re undercover.”
Cassandra seemed excited by this idea and they made off for Covent Garden, but while Cassandra pointed out the street performers and dragged Renee into every souvenir gift shop, Renee was getting the sense that they weren’t as undercover as she thought. She looked around, but saw only the multitudes of tourists and locals streaming through the area. Cassandra was looking into the windows of a shop that sold Indian clothing and items, but Renee was admiring the white columns of a church, which she recognized from the film My Fair Lady. It was there at the base of the pillars that Eliza Doolittle had met Professor Higgins, who promised to turn her into a lady. Renee needed a Professor Higgins. She had a sudden urge to stand under the portico and sing “Wouldn’t It Be Lovely?” but stopped cold when she saw a man, who had been leaning against one of the pillars and facing her direction, step behind it again. She was certain it was the man from the hotel, the one who had run after her bus.
She reached for Cassandra’s hand. “Let’s walk by the river. I think we can reach Parliament that way.” Cassandra skipped forward, needing no urging. Renee looked back again, but the man had disappeared. She hurried to keep up with Cassandra. Some of the clouds had opened up and a little patch of blue sky appeared. Renee kept Cassandra, who wanted to dawdle and look out across the river, going at a good clip, always looking behind her. She was beginning to feel foolish.
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
Cassandra ran to a street vendor selling pretzels. Renee pulled out a couple of one pound coins. They were heavy in her hand. She liked them—they made her think of pirate treasure—and handed them over to the vendor who passed two warm, doughy pretzels to Cassandra in return. Despite the peekaboo sunshine, it was blustery here by the river Thames and they let the pretzels warm up their hands while they took hungry bites. Traffic whizzed by on the busy street. Renee looked up to admire the scenery: Parliament was ahead and she was awed by the dark turrets and aged splendor. The architecture everywhere was so beautiful. She could feel history here. In Texas all she could feel was mosquitos. She turned to Cassandra, who was standing up on the railing and looking across the river at the most enormous ferris wheel she had ever seen, to ask if she wanted to try to take a tour of the Parliament building, when she saw him. He was standing a hundred feet back and when Renee’s eyes met his, he quickly pretended to be reading a sign.
“Let’s go,” said Renee and grabbed Cassandra by the arm. She ignored Cassandra’s protests and glanced over her shoulder. The man was following them. She broke into a run, dragging her daughter with.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed.”
Cassandra ran of her own accord. When Renee looked back she saw that the man was running too. She didn’t know what to do. Chase had given her his number, but she didn’t have a phone. She sprinted for a red telephone booth up ahead. Cassandra was right on her heels. They jumped inside and slammed it shut. Renee fumbled for some coins, pushed them into the slot, and punched in the number of Chase’s telephone number as quickly as she could.
“Mom, he’s coming!” screamed Cassandra. The man had stopped running, but was striding forward towards them. He smiled, making Renee’s blood run cold.
“Come on,” muttered Renee while the phone rang on the other end.
“Hello?” said Chase.
Renee gripped the phone. “Chase, you’ve got to come quick. A man is following us. We’re in a telephone booth by parliament”—she looked around to give him a better idea of where they were—“directly across from the big ferris wheel.”
“Ok, don’t move. Just stay where you are.”
“But he’s almost to us!”
“Just stay there, Renee. I’ll be right there.” He hung up.
Renee was panicked. The man was still walking towards them. Chase had told them to stay where they were, but they couldn’t remain in this call box indefinitely. A tour group drifted between them, blocking the view. Renee threw open the door of the call box and pushed Cassandra out and towards the street. They dodged between the speeding cars and trucks, made more difficult because traffic was going the wrong way. When they reached the other side of the two busy lanes, Renee stole a glance behind her. The man had just pushed his way through the tour group and reached the red call box. When he found it empty he spun around looking for them.
“Keep going,” Renee said and they dashed down the street, ran through the lobby of a building, then crossed a busy intersection, ran down another alley and then got lost. When they emerged again onto a street sporting traffic, Renee pulled Cassandra into a pub. “Go sit at that table,” she said and Cassandra obeyed. Renee peered out the window but didn’t see anyone other than normal shoppers and workers and tourists. She went to the man at the polished wood bar and said in the most Texan accent she could muster, “Howdy, can I use your phone? My wallet and cell phone were just stolen and I need to call my husband to tell him to cancel our credit cards.” The barkeep’s eyebrows knit together and he brought out the telephone, helpfully writing down the address for Renee. She dialed Chase’s number once more. She almost cried in relief when she heard Chase’s voice.
“Mrs. Krebs, where are you? I’ve driven all up and down the Victoria Embankment and t
here’s no sign of you.”
“I’m at a pub on Dartmouth Street.”
“Right. I’ll be there in two minutes. Don’t move this time.”
“Don’t worry.”
After she set the receiver back on its cradle, she ordered two diet colas for herself and Cassandra. Cassandra’s face was a mask of worry. “Who was that man, Mommy?”
“I don’t know, but Mr. Chase is on his way.”
They sipped their drinks, not saying anything. Shortly, a small silver car parked across the street and Chase’s ruffled figure stepped out. He was talking on his ever present cell phone. She breathed a sigh of relief. As he crossed the street towards the pub, still on his phone, Renee looked down the street and to her horror, saw the man who had been following them, round a corner. He had one finger to his ear and looked like he was talking into a receiver that Renee couldn’t see. He was walking purposefully in the direction of the pub, but was still at the end of the street. “There he is again, Cassandra. Quick, run to Mr. Chase.” They sprinted across the street, nearly getting clipped by a taxi in the process.
“Chase, that’s him! That’s the one following us,” shouted Renee as she and Cassandra slammed into his outstretched arms. She pointed at the man still coming their way. Renee had expected Chase to take immediate action, but instead he stared down at her with a bemused expression.
“That’s the man you’re running from?”
“Yes!” said Renee and Cassandra together. They huddled closer to Chase as the man crossed the street towards him.
“Well, I grant you, he is ugly enough to scare small children and his hygiene is questionable,” said Chase. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He stretched out his hand and clasped the man’s right hand. Renee was confused.
“Hello Harry,” said Chase. “You should have told me sooner that they’d done a runner.”
“Sorry, mate. I was trying to let you get some sleep for once. I wasn’t expecting them to take off ten minutes after arriving!” said the man. Now that he was closer, Renee saw that the man’s face was deeply lined, but friendly. When he smiled a couple of snaggled teeth showed.