by Jenny Frame
Quincy hoped that Holly would meet someone who told her that. Then Quincy thought about why they were here. Holly was going out with Story St. John. She doubted an egocentric film star like her would make Holly feel as special as she should be.
When she had met Holly’s eyes in the car, that hungry, excited feeling returned, if only for an instant. She tried to shake the memory away. It was distracting her, and as her mother always warned, Never let feelings impinge on your duty.
So she looked away quickly.
***
Holly shuffled her way into the next dress and called Lali in to zip her up. This was the second dress she’d tried on, and as glamorous and gorgeous as it was, it just didn’t suit her. It would have been perfect for Bea, but she was different.
Lali zipped her in and said, “Okay, Holls, go out and see what you think.”
Holly stepped out in the white evening gown, and up onto the podium. Bea gasped. “You look beautiful, Holls. What do you think, Lali?”
Lali smiled. “She’s gorgeous.”
Holly sighed. “I don’t think it’s me, girls.”
“Why, what’s wrong?” Bea asked.
Holly turned around on the podium, looking at every angle, then threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. I can’t explain. It’s just not me.”
Lali said to the personal shopper, “Do you have anything a bit more…bohemian. A more unconventional designer, maybe?”
“Of course. I’ll bring you back some new choices,” the personal shopper said.
She returned smiling, with a few dresses and some shoe boxes. “I think I’ve got just the thing, Ms. Weaver.”
“I have a good feeling about these, Holls,” Bea said as Holly stepped off the podium.
When Holly went back into the changing room Bea got ready with her phone to take Holly’s picture. She looked around and saw Clay and Quincy talking by the elevators. It was strange—each time Holly had come out with a new dress on, she had noticed Quincy looking at her intently. She couldn’t read that stony gaze of hers, but there was something.
Was it annoyance? After all, Quincy hadn’t wanted this trip and fought against it. She and Holly did appear to be like chalk and cheese. Quincy was a lot like George, conventional, unwavering from rules and regulations, but George was not shut off from her emotions, although she had tried to hide her panic attacks after her father died. Bea had helped her through that time.
Perhaps it was the boarding school and military upbringing that made it difficult for them to deal with negative emotions.
Just then the elevator dinged, and a young woman emerged with mineral water and glasses with ice, as Bea had requested. The young woman got quite a fright when Quincy jumped in front of her and demanded to see her clearance ID.
“It’s all right, Quincy. I asked for some water to be brought up,” Bea shouted over.
Quincy stepped aside and took up her original position.
The young woman nervously curtsied. “I brought some water, Your Majesty.”
Bea gave her a warm smile and looked at her name badge. “Thank you so much, Chloe. Just leave it there, and we’ll help ourselves.”
Chloe’s face beamed with happiness. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Bea had never had such an attentive security officer. Garrett and some other of Lang’s men who had accompanied her had kept their distance, but Quincy seemed so uptight and nervous of the crowds they talked to all the time. She hoped Quincy would relax over time.
The dressing room doors opened, and this time a smiling Holly walked out and stood on the podium. She was wearing a ruffled black silk dress, with an asymmetrical hem, and to complete the more unconventional look, a pair of tall lace-up patent-leather designer boots.
Bea clasped her hands to her mouth. “Yes, that’s the one. It’s gorgeous, and so you, Holls.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Holly said happily. “I love it.”
She twirled around the podium and Bea got to see that the back of the dress was completely bare, with only a lace tie around her neck, and the zip starting at the waist.
Lali came and sat beside Bea. “It’s perfect for Holls.”
“Perfect,” Bea said, then quickly turned her head and saw it: Quincy gazing at Holly with what she could only describe as attraction.
My, my, Captain. You aren’t made of stone after all.
Holly came down from the podium and skipped over to them. “Do you think Story will like this?”
Bea laughed. “I think you’re going to knock Story St. John’s socks off!”
***
When Quincy returned from the Queen Consort’s excursion, she went back to her room and took the opportunity to call her former comrade, Blade. Blade had been recruited by the intelligence services for her exceptional skills, after she hacked into the Ministry of Defence computer files.
Three years’ service, and many, many missions behind her, she decided to go out on her own, in civvy street.
Quincy took off her jacket and sat down at her desk. She dialled the number Blade instructed her in a text.
The phone connected but no one said hello. “Blade? It’s me—Quincy.”
She heard a laugh on the other end of the line. “I’d know that gravelly voice anywhere. Hi, Quincy. Is this line secure?”
“Probably not,” Quincy replied.
There was a short silence and Blade said, “It is now. How’s life? I see you have a very different posting now.”
Quincy switched her phone to speaker and laid it on her desk. She walked over to the hotel window and looked over the New York skyline.
“Yes, it’s very different, but an honour that the Queen has asked me,” Quincy said.
“And Jacob?”
At the mention of her friend’s name, her mind played the movie of her pulling him out of the building, his flesh burning, and Jacob screaming.
She gulped. “He’s as well as can be expected.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine your pain, Quincy,” Blade said.
Quincy didn’t want to think about it any more, so she asked, “I need some help with something, Blade. It’s top secret.”
“Of course. Name it,” Blade replied.
“I’ve been having some threats to the Queen Consort texted to my mobile. Only me, which is strange. Our commanding officer says there’s been no internet chatter about any threat, and to be honest I don’t think they’re taking it seriously.”
“I see. You want to know who, and why you?” Blade said.
“Yes. There must be a reason why I’m the only one getting the messages,” Quincy said.
She heard Blade typing in the background. “Any enemies you can think of?”
One face came to mind. The face that sneered and sniggered as she punched and punched until the skin on her knuckles became bloody and sore.
“Lieutenant Rodwell. He was court-martialled out of the marines on my evidence. He is vindictive enough, but I seriously doubt he’d have the courage to do this.”
“I’ll check it out. I’ve got your mobile details. I’ll monitor it and try to track this person down,” Blade said.
“Thanks, Blade. I appreciate it,” Quincy said.
When Quincy hung up she let out a long breath. At least now she had someone on her side, and someone who believed her totally.
***
When Bea returned to the hotel, she discovered Princess Edwina was coming down with a cold, so she and George decided to retire to bed early and try to get her to sleep.
Bea finished up in the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom. She stopped dead at the sight of Teddy lying in bed clutching her Rupert Bear, with George in her sleep shorts and T-shirt lying alongside her, stroking Teddy’s brow, and talking softly to her.
Bea’s heart melted at the sight. George was such a good mum, and together they both made a loving pair to take care of Teddy. They hadn’t talked about it, but Bea realized she wanted another baby. How could she not want George’s
babies?
“How is she?” Bea asked as she lay down on the bed.
“A little hot and stuffy.” George wiped Teddy’s nose with a tissue.
As soon as Teddy saw Bea, she reached out for her. “Mummy.”
Bea pulled her into her arms and kissed her head. “You not feeling well, my little Teddy bear?” Teddy shook her head and buried her face in Bea’s chest. “Did the doctor say she could travel?”
“Yes. He said she should be fine by the time we’re scheduled to go. I hate to see her unwell.” George moved closer so she could take them both in her arms and pulled them to her chest.
“I know,” Bea said. “I don’t think we can take her out on engagements the rest of the week. It wouldn’t be fair.”
George started to stroke Teddy’s back as she lay on Bea’s chest. “No. It’s best to leave her. So how was the big shopping trip today? Did you all have fun?”
Bea smiled. “We certainly did. Holly got the most amazing dress. She is going to look stunning for Story.”
“Hmm,” George said with annoyance in her voice.
“Oh, don’t be all huffy about Story,” Bea said.
“Anyone with the audacity to have the name Story has an ego a mile wide.”
“Well, ego or not,” Bea said, “Holly fancies the pants off her, so she’s perfect for stage one matchmaking. Which reminds me, has Quincy had many big relationships, or is she more of a one-night stand kind of person?”
George looked at her quizzically. “Well, we don’t tend to talk about relationships, past or present, but I don’t know of anyone. When we were stationed together, she always stayed on board with me when the ship docked. It was Cammy who enjoyed the nightlife. Why do you ask?”
“Just something I saw in her eyes when Holly came out in her dress. I wondered if maybe—”
“Holly?” George said. “I doubt it. When she came to see me about the shopping trip, she was really angry about Holly’s plans. Plus, they’re not exactly a good match anyway. Quincy is a rule driven officer, Holly is…”
“A fun-loving free spirit?” Bea offered.
“Exactly,” George said.
Bea wasn’t convinced. George wouldn’t see emotions if they were right in front of her nose. But Bea saw something. She knew it.
Teddy started to grizzle and cry, so George asked the computer to play her favourite lullabies, and they put off the light to try to soothe her.
As they lay in the dark, Bea said, “George, when we get back from this tour…”
“Yes?”
“Let’s have another baby.”
George squeezed her in a hug. “Nothing would make me happier, Mrs. Buckingham.”
***
Holly sat on her bed gazing at her new dress. It was more than she could have ever hoped for. She felt nervous and slightly uneasy at the thought of her date. She was never usually nervous before dates.
She was always the one on the front foot. She had confidence and picked up men very easily wherever she was. She’d even famously once managed to find the only straight man in a gay bar, on one of her nights out with Bea and Lali.
This was different. With men she exuded confidence. She knew how their minds worked and used that to have them eating out of her hand, and if anyone got too close or wanted something more, she moved on.
Women were different. Holly had only ever loved one person, a woman, and she had been so head-over-heels in love, that she had let her girlfriend lead in all things, and in the end she got her heart broken in two. Did she have the courage to start dating women again?
She knew it wouldn’t be Story St. John. This date was bought and paid for—Story probably couldn’t wait to get it over with—but it was what the date represented that was more worrying.
Holly was dipping her toe back in the water with probably the biggest lady’s woman she could think of. That made her laugh.
Holly threw herself back on the bed. She couldn’t stare at these four walls all night. George and Bea had settled in for the evening because Teddy wasn’t well, and Lali and Cammy had gone out to a movie.
She got up and made her way along to the rec room. When she entered she saw Captain Quincy over in her usual corner, but this time she was sitting with Clay. She felt her throat tighten as she looked over at her. Why had she done that stupid kissing thing? Now everything was going to be more awkward than it already was.
Maybe she could just walk back out without being noticed. She got to the door and Clay shouted, “Holly? Come and sit with us.”
Oh God. She couldn’t get out of this now.
She put on a forced smile and pointed to the coffee machine. “I’ll just get some coffee first.”
Her heart started to beat fast as she poured out three mugs of coffee. What was Quincy going to say? Would she embarrass her and talk about the kiss in front of Clay?
Holly put the mugs on a tray and added sugar and milk. She took a breath and said to herself, Just brazen it out, Holls. She sauntered over, and Clay jumped up and took the tray from her.
“I thought you two could use some coffee.”
Quincy glanced up to her, then quickly looked away. “Thank you, Ms. Holly.”
Yes, things were definitely awkward, and it appeared as if they were both going to ignore that the kiss ever happened, which suited her very well.
“Are you happy with your nice new dress, Holly?” Clay said.
“Yes—well, I hope it’s nice,” Holly said. “I don’t know if I can pull it off.”
Clay gave her the biggest smile. “You were gorgeous in it.” Clay turned to Quincy. “You saw her too, Quincy. How did she look?”
Holly’s heart sank. Why was she asking her? Quincy wasn’t even looking when they were there. Now she was either going to have to be ever so polite or be as blunt and stony as she usually was.
To her surprise, Quincy looked up at her and said, “She was beautiful, Clay. Beautiful.”
Holly stopped breathing for those few seconds because she could see the sincerity in Quincy’s eyes.
But as quickly as it was said, Quincy’s attention went back down to her soldiers.
Clay said, “Are you nervous about going out with Story?”
Holly kicked off her shoes and brought her legs up on the couch. “God, yes. I’m going to make a fool of myself—I just know it.”
“Story’s films are amazing. Her last one, Dogs Of War, I saw about ten times, I think,” Clay said.
Holly let her gaze fall on Quincy, who appeared not to be interested in their conversation. “I know. I loved that one. There’s something about her, in her army gear, holding a gun, that makes me swoon.”
Clay laughed. “I don’t know about that. She’s not my type, but her film was great.” Just then someone called Clay’s name across the room. “Sorry, I said I’d play cards with the guys. See you later, Holly, ma’am.”
Holly panicked. Don’t leave us alone! “Bye, Clay.” Great. Now it really was going to be awkward. Holly drummed her nails on her coffee mug, searching for something to say. “Drink your coffee before it gets cold.”
“I will in a minute. I just have to finish painting this part of the face,” Quincy said.
Holly watched her intently. The bristles on this brush were longer than a conventional paintbrush, and she made each stroke with such consideration and purpose, that it was almost meditational.
“You having fun?” Holly joked.
Quincy put down the soldier to dry and dipped her paintbrush in a glass of water, mixing it around. “Yes, I know you wouldn’t understand it, but it is fun for me. It’s how I unwind.”
“So do you have a room at home full of model ships and planes like Queen Georgina?” Holly asked.
Quincy lifted her coffee mug and took a drink. She knew she was going to send Holly running off in boredom. “I don’t build ships and aeroplanes. I like to paint the soldiers and scenery for famous battles.”
Holly scrunched her nose up in such a cute way. Stor
y the pretend soldier had better show Holly a good time. She deserved it.
“What, you set them out on a table or something?” Holly asked.
Quincy shook her head. “You either make or buy the template for the battlefield, then paint it, and add in bushes, shrubs, and grass. A bit like model railway enthusiasts do.” Oh God. She’d just mentioned model railways. Holly was going to think she was even more boring than she’d originally thought.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. My dad has a model railway set up in their attic. He goes there to escape me, Mum, and my brother when we’re getting too loud.”
Quincy smiled. “You know what I’m talking about then. It’s like that, only you set up famous battles.”
“Have you got one set up at home now?”
As soon as Holly said it, Quincy felt sadness engulf her, and the atmosphere changed, to a more sombre one. “No. I don’t have a home at the moment. I came straight here from barracks.”
“What about your parents’ home?” Holly said.
Quincy thought about her mother’s house in London, its decor a testament to all the Quincys who’d gone before her, and all that she had to live up to. Her mother’s house was only a place to visit, not to stay, or she might suffocate.
“I just have a mother, and I haven’t lived at home since I was seven years old.” Why had she said that? She never talked about her life to anyone.
“What?” Holly said with surprise.
“I was at boarding school.” Quincy thought that would explain everything.
“I forgot you were posh,” Holly joked. “But seriously, you need your mum when you’re seven. How could you be away at school?”
Quincy felt embarrassed trying to explain her mother, and her family. She said defensively, “That’s just the way my family works.”
“All right. Keep your hair on, Stompy.” Holly sat back in her chair, and the conversation stopped.
This was why Quincy didn’t have friends. She couldn’t traverse the conversations and observe the niceties. She tried to think of something to make it better, and she picked up one of her unpainted soldiers and offered it to Holly.
