sugar, because she had never seen any in his kitchen, and enough milk to sink a battleship. She made it carefully and then frothed it up as a treat.
He was writing again, but turned at her arrival by his desk. ‘What?’
‘Cocoa.’
He stared at the mug in her hand. ‘But we haven’t got any cocoa. I’ve never seen any in the Palace. I didn’t even know it was still made.’
‘Late-night garage shop,’ she said smugly. ‘And it is made by me. Taste it and see if it’s sweet enough.’
He inhaled the aroma first. ‘Oh, heavens, yes. I must have been about six the last time I had this.’ He tasted and a look of bliss came over his face. Then he lowered the mug.
‘What is it?’ Bella said. ‘Too hot, too cold? Needs cream? What?’
‘You,’ he said in an odd voice.
‘Me? Yes?’
‘You – think about me.’
‘So?’
‘You don’t understand. Lots of people take care of me, smooth my path, give me things. But that’s their job, or else they’re being polite to my father’s representative. You – think about me and then go and do what you see I want. Yourself.’
She stood quietly in front of him, her hands by her sides.
‘Of course,’ she said softly.
He leaned forward and rested his head against her. Bella stroked his hair. She could feel all the worry and effort and alertness drain out him, and he stayed there, just being in the moment, for the longest time. Eventually he stirred.
‘You’re wonderful,’ he said in a matter-of-fact voice, as if it were so obvious, it was just something you said to remind yourself. Like, check door key, or turn off iron.
Bella felt her heart would spill over, it was so full. This, she knew, would carry her through the next lonely six weeks without him.
It would have to.
22
‘The Hen Night!’ – Daily Despatch
Richard was due out on a mid-morning flight from Heathrow on Thursday. He and Princess Eleanor were travelling on a scheduled flight, albeit first-class of course.
Neither Richard nor Bella slept very well the night before, though neither of them mentioned it – nor did they know that the other was in the same state. They were both awake early, though Richard’s manservant had packed his bags and sent them over to the Palace the day before, from where the whole party would leave.
‘Walk with me before I go?’ Richard said quietly.
There was a hazy mist over St James’s Park and the lake was as still as a mirror. Office workers were already striding through the walks, on their way to their offices in Whitehall or Piccadilly or the Strand. It seemed that only Bella and Richard had time to stop on the bridge and look at the ducks.
‘I’ll take you to Sydney another time,’ he said with sudden passion.
‘Any time you say.’
They wandered on, beneath cascading fronds of young willow, catching the faint warm scent of crocuses in the air.
‘You will be all right. George will help. He can be a prune but his heart is in the right place.’
‘Of course I’ll be all right. I’m an independent woman. If I can survive Francis and the fish, I can survive anything.’
His fingers almost crushed hers.
At last Bella said reluctantly, ‘We’re going to have to go. You know what the office is like about punctuality.’
‘My poor love. You’re learning the hard way, aren’t you?’
They turned their back on the fantastic skyline of Whitehall and the London Eye and strode out for the Palace.
Queen Jane had insisted she was going to see her children off at the airport. She had dressed very carefully in a trim scarlet coat worn with a black pill-box hat. This was a cheerful woman, you would have said, who had no fears at all for her husband’s health. But when you got close, you saw how thick and careful the make-up was, how strained her eyes.
‘You look very handsome,’ Bella said involuntarily. ‘My grandmother Georgia would say that coat was giving a message of good cheer.’
There was an indrawn breath from Lady Pansy and a couple of others in the assembled entourage. Oh, bother, thought Bella, remembering Lady Pansy’s folder on how to address Their Majesties. Page one said, among other things, don’t address them unless Their Majesties speak to you first. Page two covered subjects which should never, ever be raised with Their Majesties. High on the list was their personal appearance. So five minutes here and she’d broken two rules. Well done, Bella.