Page 92 of The Heir Apparent
“Ma’am, are you alright?”
I met Mary’s watchful eyes. “Yes, of course. I’ll let you know what I need to do soon. Are we done? Can we go home?”
We drove back to London in silence, and I dozed most of the way, my cheek against the glass as I listened to the tap of Mary’s fingertips on her phone and the endless grind of city traffic. When I woke up, the wrought-iron gates of Cumberland Palace were coming into view, and I saw that there was a swarm of tourists lingering by the boom gate. I fixed my hat and sat up straight, waving benevolently as they peered at me through the dark glass.
Outside Cumberland 1, the driver opened my door, but I hesitated. “Thank you for today, Mary.”
“Did you want me to come in? We can go over the notes for the blood-drive appearance tomorrow.”
“No,” I said and slid out of the car, wincing as I stood up in my evil high heels. “I want you to take the rest of the day off. Go to the pub with your friends or something. We can chat tomorrow.”
She nodded uncertainly, and I knew she probably wouldn’t go home, or phone a friend, or book a last-minute spot in a yoga class. She’d return to the office and stay there until the autumn gloaming descended into night.
“Yes ma’am.” She looked me up and down appraisingly. “I love that outfit.”
“You did an incredible job. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I was relieved to find the house silent and still, even Chino’s favourite afternoon nap spot by the fire empty. Amira must have taken him for a walk. I eased myself onto the bottom step of the staircase and wrenched off my shoes, easing my aching feet into ugg boots, knowing the searing pain that awaited once I stood. I sat for a while, thinking of the weeks ahead, the decisions I must make, the lies I must tell.
I wondered what Jack was doing at that very moment. It was the early hours in Hobart, so he was probably in bed, his face gone boyish and soft with sleep. Or maybe he was out somewhere meeting girls, moving on with his life, hating me more as each day passed. I knew that as the weeks turned to months, he would think of me less and less, and eventually he would be nothing but relieved.
I wondered if Papa would be proud of me, or if he’d despair of me. I wished that Louis were around, as I did dozens of times a day.
I just want my mum, I thought—the old, ceaseless whisper inside me.
I hurled my left Louboutin hard at the wall, leaving a jagged line in the sage-green paint. I froze, as if Mum herself wouldlook around the corner and gape at what I had done to her Farrow & Ball walls. Then I remembered she’d never reappear to scold me or hug me or save me ever again, so I tossed the other shoe in the same direction.
“Good heavens,” came a voice from above.
I flinched and turned to see Vikki at the top of the staircase.
“Oh,” I said guiltily, “I didn’t realise anyone was home.”
Vikki was in her athleisure wear, which meant she was probably there dropping Amira off after Pilates. She descended the stairs, stopping on the last step to stare at the mess I’d made of the wall.
“It was an accident,” I said in a small voice.
Vikki nodded and sat down next to me with a heavy sigh. “Not to worry. The staff keep a few extra tins of paint for touch-ups. I’ll contact them this afternoon.”
“Thank you. Where’s Amira?”
“At the park, giving Chino a runaround. Madhav is with her,” she said. “He’s been talking to her about coming to work for the company.”
I looked at Vikki. “Really?”
She leaned back and propped her elbows on the step behind us. “Yes, well, it was once the plan that she work there after university. Madhav always said she had more of a head for business than Kris ever did.”
I’d never known that. Our career aspirations were not something Amira and I had ever discussed in school, both our futures already laid out before us, not a single twist or deviation from the path allowed. She was meant to marry up. I had no higher to rise, so I was to marry someone with a respectable name and a face that looked nice on a tea towel.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Vikki smiled sadly. “I’ve learned to stay out of the lives of my children.”
Gingerly, I put my feet flat on the floorboards, testing my sore arches. But the pain was so great that I groaned, rememberinghow it felt to come back down to Earth after a day spenten pointeduring my ballet years.
Vikki jutted her chin at the So Kates lying on the floor. “If you want to wear those, you need to get your lady-in-waiting to buy you some numbing spray from the chemist. Then you’ll be able to stay up that high as long as you like.”
“Doesn’t that just delay the pain?”
