Page 78 of The Heir Apparent
“My hesitation?” I asked.
“Well, the end of the year is five months away, and you haven’t told us if you’ve decided you’ll be staying on.”
“Oh.” I took a gulp of my drink.
The question of what I planned to do was rarely broached by anyone in the family, although it was the only thing I thoughtabout. There were occasions when I was determined to stay and do this—small, stirring moments I had so far kept a secret. The way the crowd had roared for Granny when we came out on the balcony during Trooping the Colour. The little girls waiting behind the rope line to give me their hand-picked posies and their drawings. The day the obstetric fistula hospital in Nairobi had accepted the offer of my patronage and said they hoped this was the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship. But whenever I thought about going to Granny, or Stewart, or Jenny, to inform them that I was ready to commit to this life, I couldn’t do it. I’d put it off, and put it off, until the end of the year was in sight.
“Have you ever heard the saying that the most important decision a woman makes in her career is her choice of partner?” Jenny asked. “I think that’s true of women like you as well. If you intend to do this, you’ll need the right man by your side.”
I looked at Jack, sleek in his tux, talking easily with Granny. She laughed a little at something he said. I turned back to Jenny, who was watching me. She was more serious than I’d ever seen her.
“I debated telling you this, but I think we have the kind of relationship where we can be honest with each other.”
I nodded, suddenly nervous. “Of course.”
“When you invited your friends up here, Scotland Yard ran a background check—standard stuff when someone new meets the family.”
My throat felt very tight. “Did they send someone to the house in Hobart? Jack said a man’s been hanging around asking questions. I thought maybe he was a reporter, but nothing ever came of it.”
She looked at me, confused. “No, they wouldn’t need to do that. They just source documents from their Australian partners—police reports and such.”
We fell silent as a servant arrived carrying a silver tray of fresh martinis. I took one. When he left, Jenny turned to me and spoke quietly. “What I want to tell you is that the palace seemedvery concerned by Jack’s background. His mother is rather… radical? A republican? And Jack himself was arrested a few years ago at a protest.”
I imagined Jack and Paula becoming grist for the tabloids, all the things they had done to keep Tasmania pristine made to look rotten and sinister, and all of it happening because I had come smashing into their lives. When Jenny saw the look on my face, she gave me her kindest smile.
“Look, none of this is a problem for me. I rather like it myself.” She grew serious again and hesitated. “I should tell you, though, that if there were a scenario where he were to move here on a more permanent basis, it would be… difficult. I can help, of course, and if it’s what you want, it will be worth it. But I imagine that both the Queen and the public will take some convincing. You would have to prepare yourself—and him. The press can be very cruel, as you know.”
I was quiet for a long time, and she let me dwell in the silence. Finally, I spoke. “People keep telling me love isn’t enough to hold a relationship together.”
She thought for a moment and then looked at the aristocrats lounging around us. In the shadows, servants waited to attend to our every whim. “I wouldn’t know the answer to that. All I can tell you is that the right person will know who you really are, and they’ll love you anyway.”
A footman announced that dinner was served, and we moved to the dining room. I was surprised to find that Jack was seated to Granny’s right—the place usually reserved for the guest of honour. Finn and I were way down the other side with the Clarences. For Richard, life was a constant, slippery struggle to be as close as possible to power. Stuck at the kids’ end of the table, he would probably spend most of the night craning his neck, trying to listen to the conversation between the monarch and the prime minister.
“And what kind of doctor do you plan to be, Finn?” Demelza asked primly.
“Oh, well, I’ve actually just applied for the surgical program,” he said, his eyes cautiously on me as I turned to look at him between two candelabras. “So if that works out, I’ll be a surgical resident next year.”
I smiled thinly at him. “That’s great.”
The last I’d heard, he’d been planning to be a paediatrician. I would go into obstetrics and deliver the babies, and he would take over from there. It had been our joke for years. But, a quiet voice in my head reminded me, I had been the one to chuck it all in first.
“So what kind of… I mean, what part of the body would you operate on?” Birdie asked.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself—I haven’t been accepted yet. But I like orthopaedics—bones and stuff.”
“My friend’s father is an orthopaedic surgeon,” Demelza said. “He does 250 knee replacements a year, and it’s all about to be done by robots anyway.”
“Yeah, robotic systems have revolutionised joint replacements, but there’s still a surgeon guiding the machine,” Finn said.
Richard, who had barely acknowledged us the entire meal, suddenly turned.
“Sounds like lucrative work, just pushing a few buttons,” he said to Finn, smiling. He swivelled towards the other end of the table. “And what about you, young Jack?” Everyone turned to look at Richard, whose top row of teeth gleamed. “Tell us about this vineyard of yours. Is it successful?”
“By our own standards, it is,” Jack said. I watched the play of candlelight and shadows across his face. “We’re a small-batch vineyard. We’re not so concerned with volume, at least not yet. I want us to expand, but right now we hand-tend to the vines. For us, it’s about the pinot grape. We’re just trying to capture a bit of its magic in our bottles.”
This was not the spiel he gave at wine shows. This was how he really felt. I smiled at him across the table, and he smiled back.
“Well, that all sounds very credible, doesn’t it, Mummy?” Richard said. “Dare I say it, almost plausible.” Whether she heard him or not, Granny gave no sign. Richard grinned at Jack. “We’re all country folk at heart, you know. We are honoured to serve, of course, but if it were up to us, we’d all be up here with our animals and our land.”
