by Anna Bloom
It was late December, the year running away from us, when I slipped down the stairs at the knock on the front door and pulled my cardigan around me tight. “Oh, hello.”
Isabella stood on the doorstep. “Hi, I came to get Gizmo. I wanted to stretch my legs.” Her eyes were rimmed with red, but not like she’d been crying. Her skin had a slight yellow sheen, but then she didn’t seem to have any make-up on. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who looked rough au natural.
“Oh sure.” I turned for the house. The dog was definitely somewhere, he hadn’t stopped yapping all morning.
“Can I come in and see the cottage? Oliver is keeping things very secret out here.”
I cringed a little. “Sure, I was just folding some washing. It looks like Wishy Washy’s Laundry in here.”
She stared at me blankly.
“I’m guessing you’ve never been to the pantomime?”
“Uh no.”
I scrunched my face. “You haven’t missed out.” I led her in and then called for the dog who seemed to have evaporated.
“It’s nice.” Isabella glanced around. “I’m surprised he’s allowed the Ikea in though.”
“I’m surprised you know what Ikea is.” Well that came out ruder than I meant. “Uh, I mean. There isn’t much flat pack up at the palace.”
Isabella shrugged. “No, I guess not.”
I motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa. “Do you want a coffee or something?”
“No thanks.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip and appraised her. “You feeling okay, Bella?”
“Fine, fine. Just went for dinner with some friends last night. It was a late one.”
No one looked like that after just a dinner. I bit my lip and waited.
Then I waited some more.
“Dad’s worried about Oliver,” Isabella said at last.
“In what way?” Although I knew all the ways.
Another shrug. Stiff lipped and closed. “He thinks he’s going to crack under the strain of trying to be two things at once.”
“Trying to be normal and a prince?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. No one talks to me anyway.”
“You and John seem close.”
“Sometimes.”
Gizmo clambered all over me, licking my face. “Ugh, what’s with this dog and licking?”
“Ollie says it’s his security protection detail.” She seemed to relax, reaching over to scratch Stinky Dog’s ears.
“Well it bloody works. Have you smelled this dog’s farts? They are practically nuclear.”
Isabella chuckled but then clutched at her head like her brain hurt. I lifted my brows and waited for her to talk to me again. She was thin; too thin in my eyes. The bones in her wrists looked like they’d snap with ease, the veins standing out in contrast to the pale skin.
“You’re judging me.” She darted a glance at me from under her fingers,
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I can sense it coming off you.” Lowering her hands, she met my questioning gaze with a glare.
I held my hand palms outwards. “I’m not.”
She chuckled, but it was layered with cynicism. “It’s funny you are the outsider, nothing like us, yet we are the ones being judged.”
I laughed softly. “I’m guessing you guys aren’t used to that?”
“No, not really.” She shook her head. “We are used to being analysed, told what’s best to do by Marcus and his team. But we don’t listen to the papers, not really. Marcus will tell you that it’s all about points and public opinion. I think Dad’s always felt the pressure of maintaining what his own parents created, and those before him.”
I warded off another licking attack. “Gizmo, stop.”
Isabella laughed. “I suppose I should take him out, he’ll be calmer after a walk.”
I went to hand him over, holding him at arms-length but then thought better of it. “I know I’ve asked you before, but do you want to come to work with me?”
“Work?”
“Come on, aren’t all you royals hardworking? That’s what Ollie sold it to me as.”
“Oliver, maybe.”
“So what do you do with your time? While Oliver is being your Dad’s ambassador and being sent all over the place”—and yes, I was still sulking about the empty bed this morning.
“Stuff. I ride the horses. I see my friends. I go to things with Mother.”
I watched the youngest princess, still older than me, but filled with a naïve innocence that I knew I’d never possessed.
“You’ve seen in the papers about what my childhood was like?” I asked. “I’m guessing you were all briefed before I turned up.”
She nodded but her cheeks tinted with a faint stain of rose.
“You escaped though. Didn’t you leave when you were fifteen? The night your mo—” she cut herself off, that rose tint deepening.
“When my mother killed herself with heroin? I found her in the kitchen, slumped on the floor, her body sinking into a puddle of congealed sick.”
“I’m sorry. You must think we are all a bunch of utter tossers.”
I laughed loudly. “I think that’s pretty much what I told your brother the first time I met him.”
“No wonder he liked you so much. Has he told you the serious dressing down he got for touching you in public like that and causing all that publicity?”
“No.” I remembered his pinched expression in the car, the way he’d told me he couldn’t bear not seeing me again. The expression made more sense now. It wasn’t the press he fought to see me, it was his family.
My heart swelled and raced.
We truly were unlike anything that had ever been before.
“Do you fancy coming out with me for a couple of hours?”
Isabella eyed me suspiciously. “Are you going to try to make me not drink again?”
“Do you need to not drink again?”
She shook out her dark hair. “No.”
“Then I won’t mention it.” I stood from the sofa and glanced down at my outfit. “I’d better get changed.”
“Why? I think you look amazing.”
“That’s not funny. I might break protocols, Isabella, but I’m not going to go out in my tracksuit.”
“Please, just so we can watch Marcus turn that funny shade of purple.”
“Not a chance. I’m going to get changed and then call Bill. We will need security.”
“Where are we going?”
I grinned, a reckless urge pulsing through me. “Outside the palace walls, Princess.”
Sixteen
“Hi, Bernie.” I called out as we slipped in through the door. Bill’s team, led by a man who looked like he ate a whole cow for breakfast, had been unwilling to wait outside. “Do you need any help today?”
Bernie Williams spun around on the grey chair she had pushed against an old-fashioned desk. Nothing in this building was new. Everything had been donated, even down to the office furniture. A wide grin split her face. “I don’t know whether to flick the kettle on or curtsey.” Her heavy-set frame rocked a deep belly laugh.
“You can put the kettle on for me, but maybe curtsey for her.” I pulled Isabella out from behind me and Bernie’s eyes widened.
“Apologies, Your Highness.”
Isabella’s face scrunched into a tight ball. “Please don’t call me that, it makes me feel like a complete idiot.”
Bernie’s mouth flapped open until she snapped it shut. “You know, Leia, if you keep sending me royal family members all the time, I’m going to need to invest in a bigger building.” She got up and stepped towards me, pulling me into a tight hug.
“How you doing, girl?”
“Uh, well you know. Different.”
“What with having yourself a fancy pantsy royal boyfriend?”
I flushed. “Yes, that.”
Bernie shuffled around, her braids swinging, and the beads on the end of the braids clacking toge
ther.
“Miss Lawrence here tell you how we met?” She motioned her thumb between Isabella and me.
Turning to the princess, I dragged in a deep breath. “The night my mother died I didn’t have anywhere to go. I’d been stuck in the police station for hours waiting for them to decide whether to take me into the system or not. While I’d been loitering, I found Janine’s card just randomly left on a table. I called and she came, somehow managing to talk them into transferring me into her care.”
“Janine can’t take in all the waifs and strays though, so she brought her here for a couple of days.” Bernie added for me when my words trailed off. I pointed to a chair in the corner. “I sat there for hours, scared out of my bloody life. It was evening and the place was full. There were complete nut jobs in here.”
Bernie nodded and crossed her arms across her chest. “Everyone’s welcome here, but everyone is safe, even little girls who have nowhere else to go.”
Isabella stared at the corner where I’d pointed. “I can’t imagine how scared you must have been.”
I shrugged. I’d long ago locked those desperate memories away. “Yeah, well. I don’t think I knew what scared me more, Norman the toothless drunk with his can of Tennent’s Extra or the fact I had a baby in my tummy.”
Bernie reached over and squeezed my arm. “Am I allowed to touch you now you are royal?”
I poked my tongue out. “I’m not a royal yet.” I shook away the thought. “So anyway, we’ve got a couple of hours until I’ve got to grab Daisy from school. What can we do to help?”
Bernie looked with keener interest over the princess. “Can you make a curry?”
Isabella sucked her teeth. “Uh, no.”
Bernie chuckled making her giant boobs lift. “Can you, Princess Leia, make a curry?”
I snorted loudly. “Uh, no. I don’t know why you even ask.”
“Make beds?”
Isabella and I both looked at each other and started to giggle. “I think we can manage that one.”
Bernie glared at me, but laughter lit her eyes. “Don’t you go getting all soft up there at the palace, Leia!”
“Me, soft? As if.” I hammed up my affront. “I’d like to say, I’ve no staff up there at all.”
“No staff?” Bernie shook her head slowly. “How are you surviving?”
“She really hasn’t, there was laundry everywhere this morning.”
“Gah, get away with you. Linen is in the cupboard, beds are obvious. I’ll make us a brew. Then maybe you could meet some of the people here?” Bernie eyed me with interest.
“That’s not really why we are here. We wanted to come and help.”
Bernie shook her head as though my statement edged towards one of the most pitiful things she’d ever heard. “Girl, that is how you help. What they been teaching you up at that palace?”
Isabella met my eye, pulling her lower lip in between her teeth, but I gave her an encouraging smile.
“Come on, let’s make beds. Oh and Bernie, don’t try to pull that make a crap cuppa so we never ask again malarkey, it won’t work.”
“Coming back then, are you?”
I smiled, a calmness washing through me as I turned for the cupboard holding the bedding and sheets. “Might do.” But I knew I would, because this place, and Bright Futures felt like home, and it was hard not to go back to the places you loved no matter how much you needed to move in the opposite direction.
“Just popping in.”
“For fuck’s sake, Leia!” Molly slumped her head on the table and I coughed to clear my throat. She turned her head and then caught sight of Isabella.
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Molly sat up straighter and Isabella gave her a small wave.
“Nice to see you again.”
“Uh, you too.” Molly flushed and smoothed her hair. “Did you bring a gaggle of press with you again, Leia?
I cringed. “They followed the car. I didn’t intentionally bring them along.”
Molly smirked.
Paula and Ian stared at Isabella and I rolled my eyes at them both. Ian’s skin blotched which I could kind of understand considering the fact Isabella Beaufort was hands down the most attractive woman who’d ever stepped into the building. “Ian and Paula, two of my work friends.” I pointed at Sonya our counsellor and introduced her too.
Janine’s door hung open and I could see her bent over a piece of paper. “What’s going on?” I asked Sonya.
“Tricky case. Janine’s cut up.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway,” Molly got up from her chair and came closer, pulling me into a hug. “Miss you, bitch face.”
“Molly!” I cringed in the direction of Oliver’s sister.
“We were just discussing the Christmas Party. It won’t be the same without you.”
“What you mean when I’m not asleep in the corner by nine?” I laughed, but it turned into a scowl as I registered what she’d said. “What do you mean without me?”
“Well, we figured you probably wouldn’t be able to come.”
My mouth dropped. “I’m actually hurt right now.”
“Well of course you are welcome, but won’t you be heading off to Wales to the royal Christmas thing?”
I flushed. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”
Molly clapped her hands together. “Well, yay, Christmas for us. Although…” she hesitated and it made my stomach twist. “I’ve already invited Nana over to ours. I figured you’d be busy.”
I stared at her unblinking. “You invited my nana for Christmas because you thought I’d be too busy to see her or you? We’ve always done something. Every year since I’ve known you.”
Molly pursed her lips. “But if you’re here though, that’s great. I just figured you’d been off doing royal things.” She turned to Isabella. “Sorry.”
“No that’s okay. I kind of like your plans. Our Christmas is only made bearable by enough alcohol to render us all mute.”
My eyes widened. Mine and Ollie’s first Christmas together and it sounded like were about to march into a family battle. I reached down into my handbag and grabbed out my phone, shooting off a quick message. Remind me to talk to you about Christmas later.
The dots showing he was typing straight back flickered at the bottom of the screen.
I’m worried.
I snorted and went to put my phone back, but the dots reappeared, so I waited.
Where are you and why aren’t I with you? I’m bored.
Obviously the meeting with the Russian president wasn’t doing it for him. Although who had state visits in December…? The Russians did. I think it was because they wanted to utilise their fur hats.
I don’t know. Because you are the chosen one and get to attend meetings while I walk your stinky dog with Isabella?
More dots.
You’re with Isabella?
Yes.
Don’t let her get you drunk.
I chuckled but cast a glance at the princess. She stared over Ian’s shoulder at his screen—his face now officially purple.
No chance. We are going to pick up Daisy.
I waited for a moment but there weren’t any more dots, so I put my phone back in my bag.
“I’m going to go and say hi to Janine.” I motioned to the open office and left Isabella in with the others. I guess if I had time to think about it, I’d be able to see it as the merging of my two families, but Janine’s expression cut off any optimistic thoughts I might want to muster.
“What’s up?” I perched on the chair where it seemed a lifetime ago Oliver had sat while expectation had lit his features, showing me the man under the princely facade.
“Normal pre-Christmas stuff.” Janine placed her hand on the file she’d been reading.
“Not enough toys for Santa? Do you remember when that happened? I was about eighteen, wasn’t I? We took to the shops to beg them for any donations we could get.” I could still remember the sting of my cold cheeks when I’d walked into the h
ouse later and lifted a curly-haired baby into my arms, squeezing her so tight she’d squirmed.
Janine shook her head. “No, not this year. Thanks to Prince Oliver we have enough donations to see us into the next five Christmases.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Her hand didn’t move from the file.
“Do you not talk to me now I hang out with royals?” I tried to laugh but it came out sounding all awkward and false.
With a sigh she took her hand off the manila folder and I dropped my gaze to see the word Lawrence along its edge.
“Why’ve you got my file out? That’s old news.”
She nodded, but her face looked like her house had just burned to ash.
“It is old news, Leia. But old news doesn’t always disappear. Lots of people are looking for this, searching for anything they can find about you.”
“The press?” My blood chilled. “They’ve already printed the worst they can.”
I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, swallowing hard.
“Not just the press, Leia. Lots of people coming out of the woodwork. I’ve had calls from people who used to go to school with you. Some who knew you at the flats. Everyone knows you’ve been working here. Lots of people have been reaching out, trying to find a way to contact you to see what you can do for them.”
A frozen shiver ran through my veins. “But I haven’t been at the flats for years. Not since the night Mum died.” I tugged at my hair. “People there sold those pictures of me to the tabloids when the news broke about Ollie and I.”
Janine nodded, her gaze searching while inside my chest my heart stuttered and started, pounding and pushing, racing against my ribcage.
I shook my head. “You saved me from there. I never had to go back, no one was going to miss me.”
Janine watched me, her focus sharp. “It wasn’t just you I helped though, was it? The whole time we’ve known each other you’ve never just been a you.”
I reached for my bag. Stupidly positioning it on my right, as though someone could come and help me leave the situation, could take me away from things I didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know.
In my memory, fractured remnants of a groggy morning spun: the headache that had thudded in my brain, the dry mouth and edgy nerves that had made my fingers shake. The click of a front door behind me as I stole out into the morning air, ashamed and embarrassed. The intense hatred that burned inside me because I’d taken one step towards being her—my mother.