by Jenny Frame
“You know me too well. George was diplomatic, but I said, not bloody likely!”
Holly laughed.
***
Captain Quincy cursed herself for being caught looking over. She was reviewing the files on all the royal court staff that she would be working with. She lingered on Ms. Holly Weaver’s file, and she just had to compare the picture to the real thing.
She was interested by the woman, who was obviously intelligent, who had studied psychology at university, then after graduation went on to study hair and make-up. It was a strange career move, and one that interested Quincy.
While she gazed at the photo in the security file on the computer pad, Quincy found herself tracing the contours of Holly’s face with her pen. Holly had delicate, almost elfin features, yet had plump, full lips. She was beautiful, and as Clayton had pointed out, her thick, layered shoulder-length reddish-brown hair made you want to run your fingers through it.
Despite her delicate features, there was something very wild about Ms. Weaver. She was bohemian in appearance, and she didn’t fit in with the very proper royal staff. Today she was dressed in tight, ripped designer jeans, a black and white striped top, and black heels.
Ms. Weaver’s jewellery said as much about her as her clothes. She wore a cluster of beaded bracelets on her wrists, large black triangle earrings, and many rings—mostly small silver ones, and one with a large aquamarine stone.
Nothing in Ms. Weaver followed a pattern, and to someone whose life and whole being was ordered and governed by rules, that was in equal measures terrifying, aggravating, and intriguing.
In Quincy’s very short time at Buckingham Palace, Ms. Weaver’s voice and laughter had been the loudest. She obviously lived life to the fullest. It was funny—women never usually left such a lasting impression on her, but she had never forgotten Holly from the polo match, more than a year ago, or the man she had left with. Quincy remembered the sense of disappointment she’d felt—not that she would have ever done anything about her initial attraction. That wasn’t something she could do.
Quincy looked up when Holly squealed with excitement at something Queen Beatrice had said.
“You’re kidding? Story St. John is going to be there?” Holly said.
Quincy couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“Uh-huh,” Queen Beatrice said. “I’ve made sure you got an invite.”
Holly jumped up and hugged the Queen. “Thank you so much.”
Story St. John? Quincy had no idea about popular culture and quickly typed the name into her computer pad. Hundreds of links and pictures appeared.
She clicked on one that said, Who is action hero film star Story St. John dating now?
Quincy was surprised when a whole host of women’s pictures popped up.
Ms. Weaver was excited about meeting a lesbian film star. Was she just excited to meet a film star, or had she misread Ms. Weaver’s choice of partners? Was she interested in women?
A part of Quincy felt a thrill at that thought, but she immediately chastised herself. Getting excited meant running the risk of losing control, and that could never, ever happen again. She remembered the shame on her mother’s face when she’d called her after the incident with Lieutenant Rodwell.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Clayton. “Ma’am, Inspector Lang would like to see us in the meeting room in ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” Quincy said.
As Clayton walked away, Captain Cameron sat down beside her. “Quincy? How are you finding things?”
Quincy chose her words carefully. “It’s quite different from regimental life, but I’m sure I’ll adjust.”
Cammy laughed. “Aye, I know what you mean. Everyone knows their place in a regiment and follows instructions and rules to the letter. In this job you have to be more flexible, and remember it’s a family, with all the problems of family life.”
Quincy smiled at her friend. “I can see it takes patience.”
Cammy crossed her legs and chuckled. “I don’t have as many problems. Queen Georgina is like you and me. Military, follows rules, sticks to the schedule like clockwork, but Queen Beatrice is a little less…conventional, shall we say. She doesn’t like to do things the way they have always been done, and schedules can change at the drop of a hat. So be prepared to think on your feet, improvise, and go with the flow.”
“Go with the flow?” Quincy said.
There couldn’t be a concept that was more alien to Quincy than that. She liked to know what was going to happen, when it was going to happen, and plan for it a month in advance.
Cammy laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll adjust.”
Quincy nodded in agreement, even though she didn’t think she could. She looked up to where Queen Beatrice and Holly were sitting, and saw that Lali Ramesh had joined them, and was equally as excited about this meeting with the film star. How strange.
She turned back to Cammy and said, “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. I couldn’t believe it when I heard Captain Cameron was engaged, but seeing your beautiful fiancée, I can see why.”
Cammy looked over at Lali and got a silly grin on her face. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? I never thought I’d ever want just one woman forever, but when I saw Lali, I didn’t want anyone else.”
“Good for you, Cammy. You deserve to be happy,” Quincy said.
“It wasn’t easy, believe me. Lali is very careful. She doesn’t jump into things, and it took a lot of persuasion on my part just to get one date with her, but it was so worth it. Your turn next, eh?”
Quincy said nothing. That was something she would never have. Never mind marriage—who’d want to date someone who couldn’t dare express emotion?
Cammy smacked her on the shoulder, and said, “We’d better get to Lang’s meeting.”
***
All the members of the protection squad filled the meeting room aboard the plane. The higher ranking officers—Captain Cameron, Quincy, Garrett, Boothby, and Jones—sat around the table, while Clayton and the rest of the protection team stood behind them.
Inspector Lang stood in front of a large computer screen, detailing their arrival in Toronto.
“The principals will be met by Canadian officials, then escorted to a meeting with the Canadian Prime Minister, where Her Majesty will make a speech. We then make our way to the hotel…”
Quincy didn’t need to listen to her commanding officer. She already knew every part of the plans, every inch of the route, and every potential area of security risk. As long as Queen Beatrice kept to the schedule, and the plan, there shouldn’t be any problems. That was what worried her.
Inspector Lang finished the meeting and the officers started to file out. Sergeant Garrett passed behind her and stopped.
“A huge responsibility isn’t it, Captain,” Garrett said.
Quincy noticed that Garrett always used her rank instead of calling her ma’am. Her rank obviously bothered Garrett’s ego.
“Of course. It’s a responsibility I relish,” Quincy said firmly.
Garrett leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Let’s hope you don’t crack up under the weight of the responsibility.”
Garrett walked away with a smug look on her face, and Quincy felt a sense of panic. What did Garrett know about her?
“Ma’am?” Clayton stood beside her.
Quincy shook away those feelings of disquiet and stood. “Yes, Clayton?”
“Any last instructions before we land, ma’am?”
Clayton looked uptight. She was forgetting this was Clayton’s first big tour, and it was Quincy’s job to keep those under her command calm and focused.
She put a comforting hand on Clayton’s shoulder. “Just keep focused on your principal, Princess Edwina. I don’t envisage that she will be away from either of her mothers’ arms, but you never know. Remember it’s my job to keep eyes on Queen Beatrice, so don’t be distracted.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Clayton said nervously.
Quincy smiled at her and said, “You’ll do exceptionally well. I have faith in you Clay.” Clayton stood a little straighter then and smiled.
“I won’t let you down, ma’am.”
Chapter Three
After the royal family landed, Holly went straight to the hotel with the luggage, while Lali and Cammy accompanied the two Queens on their first engagement.
Holly rushed about frantically, trying to organize the royal luggage. Before they’d left, Holly had designated certain trunks to hold clothes for certain times during the trip, and this overnight in Toronto was meant to be the easiest—one day’s worth of clothes, then off to the United States. But now that she was invited to the film event with Story St. John, she had her own outfit to work out too.
She directed the hotel staff with the bags, unpacked Teddy’s overnight bag and some toys, then set out Bea’s ballgown.
At each hotel on the tour, a whole floor of rooms had been booked out to give the royal party privacy, and so security could be maintained. The close personal staff and heads of security all had rooms on the floor, plus a lounge area to socialize. Holly and Captain Cameron each had a room to house, clean, and prepare the clothes the royal couple would need. Holly stood in Bea’s dressing room using her hand steamer to get rid of all the creases the dress had picked up during its travels. The TV on the wall was playing the twenty-four-hour news, and George, Bea, and Princess Edwina’s visit was the main story.
It occurred to Holly that the public would never know how much preparation went into these visits. They saw George and Bea, but behind them was a little private community, the royal court making everything work.
She looked up to the screen and watched the royal family making their way through the crowds. The reception they were getting was bigger and louder than any film star’s. There was screaming and shouting, and she could see it was a little overwhelming for Teddy, who clung to her mummy tightly.
Her gaze was drawn to the tall figures of Quincy and Clay following discreetly behind.
Quincy had the same impassive look upon her face when she was working as she’d had on the plane. Did she ever smile?
She jumped when someone got a little too close and made a grab for Teddy. As quick as a flash Quincy was in front of Bea, pushing back the overeager person.
Bea appeared rattled for a few seconds, then handed Teddy to George who’d come striding over. From that point on, George walked with her arm around her wife and held Teddy protectively in her other arm, until they went into the government building.
Holly was impressed with the speed of Quincy’s reactions. She might not be the friendliest, but at least Quincy was good at her job.
Holly finished steaming the dress and everything was set. All she had to worry about now was her own dress, and the fact that she didn’t bring anything approaching the glamour of what Bea would be wearing.
Oh well, as long as she made Her Maj look good. Holly chuckled to herself.
Sometime later, she heard voices and lots of pairs of feet outside in the hallway. Holly peeped out and only caught the backs of George and Bea going into their room. She saw Inspector Lang say something to Quincy and pat her on the back. Once he walked away, and Quincy was all alone in the corridor, Holly saw Quincy’s hand tremor.
Quincy took a deep breath, squeezed her hand into a fist, and walked off.
That was strange. What made the unshakable Captain Quincy shake?
***
Quincy was glad of the two hours’ break she had before evening duty. This afternoon’s walkabout had disturbed her. Dinner was served in the lounge for the personal staff but she couldn’t stomach it, so she headed back to her room to get showered and changed before the evening engagement.
She let the intense heat of the shower beat down on the back of her neck as she braced herself against the shower wall. Today’s events played on repeat in her mind, over and over again. Queen Beatrice walked along the line of the crowd, Princess Edwina in her arms. The crowd was enchanted by the little girl who had mastered the important royal skill of smiling and waving already.
Quincy had been constantly scanning the crowd, looking for anyone unusual, anyone who didn’t fit, but everything looked normal. The crowd began to lean further and further over the barriers making Quincy more and more nervous. She had just told Clayton to stay alert when out of the corner of her eye she saw a young man rummage around in his backpack. She’d moved just as he launched forward to grab for Princess Edwina, with something in his other hand.
She’d shouted, “Weapon!” then restrained him, while the other officers moved Queen Beatrice away. That was when she and the others saw there was no weapon, only a soft toy the young man had brought to give to the princess.
As the police took him to the side, Garrett walked past and said, “Jumped the gun a little there, didn’t we? I heard you had a hair trigger, Quincy.”
Had she overreacted? Inspector Lang and Queen Georgina had congratulated her for acting quickly, but when she’d arrived back at the hotel and passed the lounge area, she heard Garrett and a group of officers laughing about the dangerous soft toy.
When Quincy shut her eyes, the memory of the officers’ laughter changed to the roar and explosion of bombs, and the heat of the shower turned to flames, burning all over her body.
She opened her eyes quickly and shut off the water. She leaned her head against the shower wall, gasping for air. She heard her mother’s words echo around in her mind.
Never show your fear or emotions if you wish to be taken seriously, Quincy.
One gulp and her emotions were swallowed deep down, stored in some dark space inside of her, never to be let out. She walked over to the dinner suit she had laid out for tonight and began to dress.
This evening was a formal black-tie affair, so the guards had to be dressed accordingly. Quincy pulled on her black suit trousers, then walked over to the mirror to put on her white shirt and bow tie. She slipped on the shirt and, as she was buttoning it up, stared at the scars that ran from below her waist, up her torso to just below her neck.
Quincy hated these scars. They were a symbol of her failure, how she hadn’t saved the men under her command. Deep down she believed she deserved every one of those scars.
She heard a knock at her door, so she quickly buttoned up her shirt but left her bow tie hanging. When she opened the door, she found Clayton standing there, similarly dressed.
“I need help.” Clayton held up the tie.
Quincy smiled and ushered her in. “You’re having problems?”
“When the inspector said we’d be handed out evening wear, I thought there would at least be a ready-made bow tie. A police constable from Brixton isn’t trained on wearing black tie.”
Quincy held her by the shoulders. “Stand still.” She began to make up the bow tie. She had a couple of inches on Clayton, but Clayton was a lot broader and more muscular, as if she worked out. Quincy was glad to have some muscle on her side.
“What gives you the impression I’m well trained in black tie?” Quincy asked.
“You’re posh, ma’am. Your accent, you went to the same boarding school as Queen Georgina, and your mum’s some big deal in the navy.”
“How did you know that?” Quincy asked.
Clayton’s smile faded as if she regretted saying that, and she looked everywhere but at Quincy’s eyes. “I just overheard Garrett talking.”
Quincy’s stomach dropped. Garrett had been checking up on her. Quincy sighed while looping the tie together.
“I suppose I’m all the gossip after today’s events,” Quincy said.
“Garrett might be my superior, ma’am, but she’s a bloody arsehole. I didn’t listen to her stupid gossip. Inspector Lang, Her Majesty—they all think you did the exact right thing, ma’am. That guy could have had anything on him.”
“But he didn’t,” Quincy said. She was really doubting her judgment.
“I should have been more alert. I should have seen the gu
y rummaging in his backpack. Princess Edwina is my principal, ma’am,” Clayton said.
“You did fine. The man was no threat, and everything else will come with experience. Don’t worry. How did you find yourself in the royal protection squad?”
“I just joined the police, ma’am, and applied to join the firearms division. My superiors were more than happy with my test results, and my commanding officer put me forward for the role.”
Quincy smiled. “Good shot, are you, Clay?”
The biggest grin appeared on Clayton’s face. “I can shoot the wings off a fly.”
Quincy finished with her tie and patted her on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad to have you by my side. Go and look in the mirror.”
Clayton walked over to the mirror and checked her tie, and then her hair, before smiling broadly. “I think it suits me. What do you think, ma’am?”
She thought the young protection officer looked handsome, with her warm black skin set against the snow-white shirt and classic dinner suit. “You look fantastic. Very dashing.”
“If only the girls thought so,” Clayton said.
Quincy smiled. She was sure Clayton wouldn’t have any problem attracting women, just maybe not the confidence to realize what she had to offer.
Clayton turned around and said, “I heard Story St. John is going to be at the event tonight. Everyone’s been talking about how Story is Holly’s big crush.”
“But Ms. Weaver is straight, though, isn’t she?” Quincy said.
“Labels don’t matter when you find someone who sets your heart on fire,” Clayton said with a wink.
She’d forgotten that Clayton was a generation younger than her, a generation to whom strict categories did not matter. “I suppose you’re right. What’s this Story like, Clay?”
Clayton grinned. “She’s got everything. Money, good looks, charm, can get any woman she wants—she’s the envy of every lesbian I know. She even tried to flirt with Queen Beatrice the last time the Queen came to the environmental summit in New York.”
