Petra called after her. “Mother, stay. Please. Hear him out.” But it was of no use. The queen had gone.
The king finally turned to face Eric. “Your mother is stressed and tired. You know how she gets when she’s on tour.” He didn’t look angry or shocked. He was the complete antithesis to his wife: calm, mild, collected. “Perhaps you should’ve waited with this news until the tour was over.”
“Why should I wait?” Eric protested peevishly. “I’m tired of having to do everything on my own. I want Joel by my side. He gives me strength. He gives me confidence.”
“It was inconsiderate of you to summon us back for this. You’ve only known this boy for a few months.”
“His name is Joel!”
“Sorry, Joel.” Finally, the king turned to face me. “What do you make of all this? You’ve been very quiet.”
“Well… I… I don’t know.” Not the most eloquent answer, I know, but what else could I say? I wasn’t expecting such drama.
“Do you think it’s wise to marry someone you’ve only known for a few months?”
Eric answered before I got the chance.
“I’m not asking to marry him now. I can wait a year. Or two years. I just want to know if it’s possible.”
“That’s not for me to decide, Eric. It’s the prime minister who decides that.”
“Yes, but the prime minister will need your approval first. What I want to know is, will you support me? Will you help persuade the prime minister?”
The king thought about this. “I’m not sure the government will think it’s in the country’s best interest for the crown prince to marry another man.”
“Why not?” It was Petra who asked. She was leaning forward on the sofa, her elbows resting on her knees, preparing herself for a good argument. “It’s the prime minister who legalised same-sex marriage in Doggerland. He made a whole speech about how he wanted everyone to have the same chance of happiness. He can’t turn around now and deny this opportunity to Eric.”
The king looked at his daughter and frowned. “I suppose you’re the one who put him up to this.”
Petra looked indignant. “I did not put him up to this. It was his idea. I’m just supporting him.”
“It’s not about being gay, Eric.” The king leaned in towards his son. “I don’t mind you being gay. Your great uncle was gay. Uncle Dagobert. I don’t know if you remember him. He was in a relationship with a man for nearly forty years. Walter, his name was. Nice chap. The whole family knew about it, and nobody cared. But then Dagobert had a wife, too. Frida. Do you remember great aunt Frida? She knew about Walter when she married him, but she didn’t care. She was happy just to be a countess and to live in a castle. They had separate bedrooms. And she had her lovers. But they lived together. That was the important thing. They were seen together. They attended events together. They went on holidays together.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Eric asked.
“I’m just telling you that it is possible to be gay without breaking from tradition. We are one of the oldest royal families in Europe. We represent stability and continuity. We are not like ordinary people. What would be the point of us if we lived like ordinary people? We’d be redundant.”
“Are you suggesting I have a sham marriage?”
“You can call it a sham marriage, but you can also call it a marriage of convenience.”
“I call it a sham marriage!”
“Come on, Eric. Be reasonable. You can’t marry another man. What will the Church think of this? What will the other royal families think?”
“What the devil do I care what they think!”
“You should care. When you’re king, you will be representing the people of Doggerland. You will be the defender of the Christian faith in these islands. You will be head of this family. What people think of us is important.”
“The reason we’re important, Father,” it was Petra speaking again, “is because we have influence. I think we should use this influence. Imagine how we can help change attitudes towards homosexuality if Eric comes out. And marries his boyfriend. And tours the world with him on diplomatic visits.”
The king frowned. “Eric is not one of your political causes, Petra! He’s your brother.”
“Listen to her, Pa,” Eric said.
“I read a report recently,” Petra continued. “About how the young people of Doggerland perceive the royal family. They see us as pointless. As irrelevant. They don’t understand why we exist. We need to change if we want to survive. Eric and Joel can become gay rights ambassadors at a time when homophobia is rearing its ugly head again. Joel Bottomley could be the best thing that has ever happened to this family.”
They all turned to face me. I think I blushed.
“Has Eric met your parents?”the king asked me.
“My parents?” I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning. Not once, throughout this whole whirlwind, had I given my parents any thought. But the king was right, of course. They’d have to get involved at some point. The very thought of it filled me with terror.
“No, I haven’t,” Eric replied.
“What sort of people are they?”the king asked me.
“What sort of people?” Well, what could I say? I broke out in a sweat. “They’re simple people.”
“What do they do?”
“My mother is a housewife.”
“And your father?”
“He… um. He’s dead.”
Oops! That just came out.
“I didn’t know that,” Eric said. “You never told me.”
“Oh, it was a long time ago.”
“What did he die of?”
“Cancer.”
I felt sweat beads form on my head. My father was an arsehole, but I didn’t wish him dead.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the king said. “Do you get on well with your mother?”
“Oh, yes. Yes. She’s a wonderful woman.”
“Does she know about you and Eric?”
“Well…” I looked at Eric. “Eric and I decided to keep things secret until we talked to you.”
“Quite right.” The king leaned back in his chair. “Family is very important to me. You’ll need the support of your family if you’re going to join our clan. It’s not easy being a royal.”
Eric sat up in his seat. “Does that mean you accept?”
The king frowned at the interruption and gestured for his son to sit back down. “In the past, of course, the custom was to marry people from other noble families. I myself married a German countess, and, although she is a little temperamental, as you have seen, she has served me well. But nowadays, there aren’t enough royals to go round, so some royal families have had to let in commoners. This hasn’t always gone smoothly. It’s hard to adjust to our lifestyle when you’ve not been brought up in it. It can all go to your head. You can lose yourself in this life. Lose all idea of who you are. Try to become someone you’re not. I don’t know, Joel, if you are strong enough not to let that happen to you.”
“He is,” Eric said, but the king ignored him and continued to stare at me.
“The way you’ve been brought up is key to this. Have you been brought up to be confident, strong, self-assured? Will you be able to retain a positive image of yourself, even when the press does nothing but demonise you and publish lies about you? Will your family be able to cope with your newfound fame? Or will they use your celebrity to profit from it?”
“Joel is strong, Pa. Stronger than me. And he’s honest.”
“Well, I want corroboration of that, Eric. I’d have to meet his family before I can make a decision.” He turned his attention back to me. “If you marry into the royal family, it won’t just be you who’ll be thrust into the media spotlight. Your mother will too. Do you think your mother is strong and courageous enough to face that prospect?”
I gulped. My mother? My poor, anxious, pill-popping mother? She wasn’t even strong and courageous enough to step outside her own h
ouse.
“Well… I… um…” I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my neck. “It’s hard to say.”
“I must be sure of that before I can make a decision,” the king said. “I won’t be able to speak to the prime minister until June, so I suggest you speak to your mother and introduce Eric to her in the meantime. Maybe you can invite him over for Easter? And in the summer, you can come and visit us in Doggerland again. And bring your mother.”
Eric looked at me, gleaming with happiness.
I wish I could’ve felt the same, but my God! The thought of my mother meeting the king of Doggerland! This whole thing was turning into a nightmare.
When the meeting was over, the king rushed out of the room, presumably to speak to his wife. He hadn’t eaten anything. Eric and Petra served themselves breakfast, and I watched them feast on scrambled eggs and smoked kippers while my stomach churned and my heart pounded in my chest.
“Are you not eating?” Eric asked me, tearing off another piece of his fish with his teeth. “The kipper is good.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re not still nervous, are you? I think the meeting went really well.”
I sighed. A deep, desperate sigh.
“What is it?” Eric asked.
I dropped my head and whispered, “I can’t do this.”
Petra was standing by the buffet table, serving herself a cup of coffee. I could see by the tensing of her shoulders that she had overheard me.
“I’m sorry, Eric,”I said, shaking my head. “It’s just too much.”
“But it’s going so well. My father is being really supportive.”
“I have a confession to make.”
“What is it?”
I looked at Petra. She had been tactful enough to take her cup of coffee to the dinner table and leave me and Eric to talk alone, but as she pretended to leaf through a magazine, I knew she was still listening.
“I lied to the king,” I whispered. “My father is not dead. He’s still very much alive. Unfortunately.”
The happy, optimistic, and relaxed expression on Eric’s face disappeared instantly. He went pale and stared at me with large eyes. “Why?”
“Because my father’s an arsehole, that’s why. He’s a loser. He’s a drunkard and a layabout. He’s never had a proper job in his life. He abandoned me when I was ten. I barely see him.”
“Well, if you don’t see him anymore, then it doesn’t matter.”
“But he’s bound to come out of the woodwork as soon as our engagement is made public. People like that always do.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“And then there’s my mother.”
“What about her?”
“I don’t see how I can possibly introduce you to her. She’s a very anxious woman. She worries about everything. She doesn’t like meeting new people.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I can’t go through with this.”
I watched Eric’s face sink.
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
This was followed by a long silence. Eric kept staring at me, his face pale and sullen, his eyes large and watery.
Petra suddenly looked up from her magazine. “He’s having cold feet, Eric. That’s all. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Yes.” Eric smiled, and the colour rushed back into his face. “You’re having cold feet, Joel. That’s all this is.” He grabbed my hand. “When we get back to England, you’ll talk to your mother. You’ll tell her you want to invite a good friend of yours for Easter. Whatever problems arise, we can solve them. I know we can.” That cocky, lopsided smile of his exposed the dimples on his cheeks and made his eyes sparkle. “I’m feeling more confident now than I ever have before. And it’s all because of you. I won’t let you down, Joel. Not you or your mother.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Disaster!
“How did it go?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“It went well, Trevor, but I can’t tell you any details. Not until everything has been sorted.”
“So, the king has given his permission?”
“Trevor, for fuck’s sake! Stop asking me. No one is supposed to know. Not even you. I’ll tell you when I can.”
Trevor stared at me, an indignant look on his face. “There’s no need to speak to me like that, Joel.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I’ve had an emotional few days.”
“There was a time when you’d tell me everything. When we were still friends.”
“We are still friends, Trevor. And I will tell you everything in due course. Just not now.”
He turned away from me and sulked.
“I don’t give a fuck anyway. I was only asking out of politeness.”
“Oh, come on, Trevor. Don’t be like that.”
“I’ll be how I like!”
I sighed, picked up my book, and resumed my reading. Eric and I had flown back to England that morning, and I was trying very hard to readjust to everyday life. It was impossible. Instead of taking in what I was reading, I kept thinking about that splendid palace with its long corridors and beautiful gardens, or the conversation I’d had with the mild-mannered king and his awful wife, or the hurt expression on Eric’s face when I told him I was getting cold feet.
I remained like that for the next few days, unable to concentrate on my lectures, or the inane chatter of my study mates. My heart and my mind were still in Doggerland, and the thought that the plans I’d made with Eric would not come to fruition, that one day I might not be prince consort of Doggerland, suddenly became unbearable.
By Wednesday, I’d had enough. I got up early, and instead of heading for the library, I walked right out of campus and took a bus back to Wales.
My mother put her hands to her heart and screamed when she saw me come in (in retrospect, I don’t think it was a good idea to drop in unannounced on a woman with her condition).
“It’s only me, Mum,” I said. “Stop screaming. You’ll wake up the neighbours.”
“What happened? What are you doing here?” Her face was pale. Her arms were trembling.
“Nothing happened, Mum. I just came to tell you something. Come to the living room and sit down. I’ll make you some tea.”
“Never mind the tea!” She took a bottle of pills out of her skirt pocket and screwed off the lid. “Why aren’t you in Oxford?”
“There’s something I want to tell you.”
“We’ve established that. What is it?”
She placed a pill on her tongue and swallowed it. She carried those pills with her wherever she went. Kept popping them into her mouth as though they were polo mints.
“Don’t look at me like that, Joel,” she said. “It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have dropped in on me like that. Now, what do you want to tell me?”
“It’s about Easter.”
“Oh God, you’re leaving me. I knew it. You’re gonna go off on holiday with some friend and leave me alone in front of the telly with the hot cross buns and the chocolate eggs.”
“No. I’m spending Easter here with you, like I always do. But I want to bring someone with me this time. A friend.”
“A friend? Oh my God, you’ve got a boyfriend! You want me to meet your boyfriend!” She took the bottle back out and began unscrewing the lid.
“Ma, put that away! You’ve just taken one!”
Begrudgingly, she replaced the pills in her pocket.
“Let’s sit down, Ma. I’ll make us some tea and tell you about him.”
After she’d had a few sips of her warm beverage and calmed herself down, I showed her a picture of Eric on my phone.
“That’s him? That’s your fella? He looks awfully posh.”
“He is posh.”
“What’s his name?”
“Eric.”
“Where was this taken? Oxford?”
“No. Actually
, that picture is from the internet.” I took the phone off her, minimised the picture, and handed it back. “See. It’s from Wikipedia.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t know what Wikipedia was, but she didn’t want to let on.
“Read what it says about him here.” I pointed at the title of the article.
“Eric HaraldsenRobberhart DeVries, Crown Prince of Doggerland. That’s a fancy name.”
“Do you know where Doggerland is?”
“Is that the new pet shop that opened on the high street?”
“No, Ma. It’s a country in the North Sea. Eric is the crown prince.”
“What, a real prince?”
“Yes, Ma. A real prince.”
“And you’re going out with him?”
“Yes.”
“And you want him to meet me?”
“I want him to come over for Easter.”
“You’re pulling my leg!”
“I’m not.”
She looked at the phone. “You don’t know this man. You got this picture off the internet.”
“I have more pictures.” I took the phone back, opened the album of our weekend in Brighton, and showed it to her.
“Oh, look at you with his arm around you!” she said. Then she peered closer. “Hang on a minute. You are pulling my leg! That picture’s been photoshopped!”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“That ain’t you. That’s another bloke with your face stuck on it.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is. You don’t dress like that.”
“I do now.”
“You’re trying to pull one over on me.”
“I’m not. I really am going out with the crown prince of Doggerland. And he really is coming over for Easter.”
She looked at me quizzically. “What are you doing here, Joel? Why aren’t you in Oxford?”
“Because I had to tell you about Eric. I had to prepare you for him.”
“Are your studies not going well? Are the other students bullying you?”
“Mum, are you listening to me?”
“No, I’m not, Joel. You’re talking gibberish! Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”
You or No One Page 7
