by Jenny Frame
“This doesn’t look good, Prime Minister. I just can’t imagine Miss Elliot going that far. She is one of the kindest and most empathetic people in my acquaintance. I realize young people tend to be more militant, but—”
“Your Majesty, by giving you that folder of information, I am showing you what will be available to the press when they eventually take an interest in Miss Elliot. I think you’ll agree they could make her character look pretty unpalatable.”
George nodded solemnly. “And you still wish to support me in this relationship, Prime Minister?”
Bo went back into her briefcase and brought out another folder. “I wanted you to see the worst of what was out there, Ma’am, but there is another side to the story.”
George took the second folder and prayed it held better news.
“If you look at the police report and witness statements, you’ll find that Miss Elliot was released without charge. She was indeed taking part in the demonstration, but according to her witness statement she was becoming increasingly concerned about the militant nature of Free Republic, and when the leader of the movement started to burn the flag, she tried to stop him and was assaulted by him. It’s all backed up by the other witness statements.”
George was so relieved that her judgement of Bea’s character was not wrong. “And she left Free Republic after that?”
“Yes, Ma’am. She was never involved with them again, and you can tell from the various press reports in there that since then, she’s only ever been in the newspapers because of her charity work. She’s raised a great deal of money for various charities and has received awards and commendations for her good works.”
“So do you think the British people could accept her?”
Bo gave her a broad smile. “I believe that with the proper press management we could make Miss Elliot extremely popular. That’s why I had to show you both the best and the worst information, Your Majesty. Left alone, the press could paint a very bleak picture of her, but it wouldn’t be a true reflection of the facts. It must be managed.”
George handed her back the folder and asked, “How can we achieve that?”
“Your deputy secretary, Sebastian Richardson? He’s a very able young man—have him work with my right-hand man, Felix, and between the two of them, if and when your relationship hits the press, they will be able to manage it and change any negative public opinion.”
“I will.” The Queen stood and extended her hand to Bo. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Prime Minister.”
“If you do persue this relationship, Your Majesty, there will be some opposition from some of the more…traditional sections of the House of Commons, particularly the Conservative party, but I believe you will get cross-party and public support once the full facts are presented.”
Now I just need to show you, my love, that you are the one for me.
*
When Bea and George resumed their Timmy’s visits, Bea started to lose the awkwardness she’d felt since their trip to France. The emotions that had been so close to the surface there were kept more firmly under control when travelling around the counrty. Today she and George were attending a lunch in Birmingham, to meet and thank faith and community groups, who had come together to raise funds for their local hospice. A local Indian celebrity chef was making the food, and George had told her how much she was looking forward to an authentic curry for lunch at the community hall.
After meeting and greeting everyone, the Queen sat at the top table, alongside the mayor and Bea. While the mayor’s attention was on the local faith leader who sat beside her, she and George got the opportunity to chat. “You look as if you’re looking forward to this.”
“Curry? Yes, I love it. Do you?”
Bea smiled. “Yes, as long as it’s not too hot. So is everything still on for your birthday night out?” With their six months together soon coming to an end, Bea thought it the perfect present to give to George, before they inevitably parted ways.
“Oh yes, Cammy helped me persuade Lang, and they’re going to do a couple of dry runs to the pub, just to get an idea of the layout and any potential problems. I can’t wait.”
Bea smiled excitedly. “Me too. It’ll be such fun to introduce you to my friends.”
“I have one condition, though,” George told her.
“What kind of condition?”
“Since this night out is a celebration for my official birthday, then it seems only right that you come to the ceremonial element of it. Will you and your mother and father be my guests at Trooping the Colour?”
“Trooping the Colour? Is that the marching-up-and-down thing they show on TV every year?”
George smiled and shook her head. “Marching-up-and-down thing? Really, Miss Elliot, you ought to listen to your mother when she talks about the pageants on TV.”
Unseen by the other guests, Bea poked George in the ribs under the table. “You tell me what it means, then, Your Majesty.”
“That hurts.”
Bea giggled and stuck her tongue out.
“You’ll be in trouble if a photographer caught you doing that.”
“I’m sure. So tell me.”
“It dates back to a time when soldiers used their regiment’s colour, or flag, as a rallying point on the battlefield, so each regiment would march past to assemble at their colour. Then in the seventeenth century, the ceremony began to be used at the monarch’s birthday. I ride down the Mall to Horse Guards Parade, inspect the troops, then take my place at the saluting base, and the whole of the Household Cavalry march past me in salute. It’s basically a chance to show the professionalism of the British Army. Very difficult manoeuvres are performed to music, and it’s quite a spectacle, I think.”
It suddenly dawned on Bea that she’d watched it before. “Oh yes, the soldiers wear the big black hats?”
George laughed softly. “Bearskins, yes. They are a challenge to wear, I can tell you.”
Bea smiled coyly. “You’ll be wearing one?”
“Indeed. So you’ll come?”
“I don’t think Mum would let me refuse.” The waiters came round and placed a plate and various bowls of curry around the diners.
George rubbed her hands together in glee. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
*
It was a bright and sunny June morning for Queen Georgina’s first Trooping the Colour ceremony as monarch. George stood in front of a large long mirror as Captain Cameron inspected every inch of George’s Scots Guards uniform. She walked round the Queen looking for any stray bits of lint on the bright red tunic. The three dogs had been banned from the Queen’s presence this morning so that none of their hair would find its way onto her uniform.
George had been so nervous last night she hadn’t slept a wink, and she wasn’t much better today. “Was this collar always so tight?” George pulled at the tight-feeling gold collar with the gold embroidered thistle.
“Your Majesty, would you stop fiddling, man. I’ve just got everything the way I want it.” Cammy batted the Queen’s hands away and fixed the collar back to her standards.
“Well, as long as it meets your standards, Captain Cameron…Sometimes I feel like a dressmaker’s dummy,” George grumbled.
Cammy adjusted the Queen’s blue sash upon which her service medals from both the Army and Royal Navy sat proudly. “As long as I am judged by the way you’re turned out, Your Majesty, then I’ll make sure every part of your uniform is in its proper place.”
George placed a hand on Cammy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for grumbling, Cammy. I’m just very nervous, but my uniform looks perfect. I can see my face in these gold buttons and shoes.”
Cammy straightened one last button and said, “I should bloody well hope so. I spent all day yesterday polishing and cleaning everything, every last button and buckle.”
“It certainly shows, Captain.” George adjusted the gold sash and ribbon round her waist and turned to check the back.
“So why are you s
o nervous, Ma’am? You’ve done plenty of Colours ceremonies before.”
George walked over to the window and looked out at the crowds assembling down the Royal Mall. The guardsmen lined the route, ready to protect the royal party.
“But I wasn’t the monarch. I was always riding behind Papa, and he was the focus of attention. I’m worried I’ll do something wrong and disappoint Mama and the family.”
“George, get a grip on yourself.”
George turned round, surprised at Cammy’s outburst.
“You’ve never put a foot wrong, no matter what you do. You’ve done countless rehearsals, so you know exactly what you have to do. What’s really bothering you?”
“Bea’s going to be watching, and I want her to be proud of me. I’m frightened of looking like an arse in front of her and her parents.”
“You never could. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, like you could do no wrong. She adores you.”
George walked over to examine the bearskin hat sitting in a large box on the table. “I wish that were true. It’s days like today I realize how much I love her, Cammy. She’ll be there watching, so close to me, but I won’t get to see her at all. She should be by my side. It would make me the happiest person in the world to know that she was waiting for me back at the palace with my family.”
“You need to tell this wee lassie how you really feel. The two of you are dancing around each other and getting nowhere.”
“She doesn’t let me. Every time I try to tell her, she changes the subject.”
“Hmm. Maybe this night out you’re having with her will be a good thing. I know I haven’t been too enamoured with the idea because of security, but just the two of you spending time with each other in an ordinary pub, like an ordinary evening out, will be a good idea.”
“Perhaps. One thing she did say is that she likes me in uniforms and is looking forward to seeing me in this one.”
Cammy lifted the impressive bearskin hat from its box. “Well, let’s make sure you look like a perfectly turned out and very proud royal colonel-in-chief.”
*
The Queen had dispatched Archie Fairfax to look after her guests for the day. She’d sent the major and a car to pick up the Elliots and transport them to the stands for invited guests on Horse Guards Parade. When Bea saw they were sitting in amongst the VIPs, she was very glad that they would have the major at their side. There were high-ranking members of all the armed forces and all the recognized churches, politicians from the Queen’s government and Her Majesty’s opposition, and then the Elliots, a working-class family from Bethnal Green. It was surreal.
“These are our seats here, miss, and if you look over to the side of the parade ground, you can see the projected screen, so we will be able to follow Her Majesty from Buckingham Palace.” Major Fairfax sat between Bea and her parents so that he could talk them all through what was happening.
As they took their seats Bea felt a murmur go through the VIP section. She looked around and found lots of looks coming her way, and it made her uneasy.
“Look Reg, there’s the prime minister,” Sarah said gleefully. Ever since the Queen had invited them, her mother had been the most excited Bea had ever seen her. She was glad that she could share this unusual friendship she had with the Queen with her parents. When Bea looked over, the PM smiled and nodded to her.
“I see her, Sarah. There’s the opposition leader, Andrew Smith, too,” Reg told her.
Bea had never met Mr. Smith, but as she looked up at him, he gave her an unimpressed look and whispered something to his wife. She’d noticed a lot of people whispering whilst looking at her. Surely they can’t be gossiping about me. Nobody knows about my friendship with George.
*
Upon arriving at the palace, Julian had headed straight for the reception room and poured a whisky from the decanter there. He desperately wanted the alcohol to dull the panic and nerves he’d been feeling all week. The little warning he’d arranged for his cousin had started to feel like a bad idea. He’d been shouting at his wife, his children, his staff, and all the time the words he had said to his underworld contact had echoed through his mind.
I want a warning shot to remind the country that this Queen of theirs is a an unnatural freak, and a disgrace to the House of Buckingham.
He walked over to the window and saw the crowds that had gathered to see today’s spectacle. They waved their flags and held up their placards, all excitedly waiting on George.
“What do they think is wonderful about her? Peasants.”
It wasn’t just the people. When he arrived, he’d had to witness the extended family fawn all over her, particularly his parents and siblings. It should have been me.
He glugged back the rest of his whisky. “She has to be stopped. At any cost.”
*
“If you look to the screen now, Mr. and Mrs. Elliot and Miss Elliot, the parade is about to start.” Major Fairfax pointed over to the large projected screen, which showed the front of Buckingham Palace.
The bands of the Household Cavalry started playing and the carriages emerged from the archway in front of the palace.
“Is that the Queen Mother in the first carriage, Major?” Reg asked.
“Yes, Mr. Elliot, along with the Dowager Queen Adrianna and the Duke of Bransford to accompany them.”
“Such elegant ladies, aren’t they, Bea?” her mum said.
Bea was so happy to be sharing this with her parents, her mum especially, having endured so much unhappiness in her life. It was wonderful to see her face light up like this. “They are, Mum, and very nice people too.”
“The Queen Mother must be sad though—her first Trooping the Colour without the King. They were a very loving couple, weren’t they, Major Fairfax?”
“Indeed, Mrs. Elliot. I’m sure I’m not speaking out of turn to tell you that the King’s death has been a huge loss to the whole family, but Queen Georgina has been a rock of strength for them all.”
Bea listened and thought that not even her family, or any of the close family staff, knew what an emotional toll her father’s death had taken on the Queen—the panic attacks, not sleeping well. She is their rock, and in turn, she comes to me for comfort. She wouldn’t let herself think about what would happen when they no longer saw each other.
They watched the rest of the family follow out of the gates past the Life Guards regiment, looking resplendent on their magnificent horses and wearing their distinctive gold helmets with white plumes.
The last carriage went past, followed by the colonels-in-chief, both royal and non. They took their place in front of the Life Guards, and the bands stopped.
“Here comes the Queen now, Miss Elliot,” the major told her.
The lone figure of a guard’s officer on a magnificent white horse came through the palace arch. If it hadn’t been for the blue sash across her red guard’s tunic, marking the officer as royal, and the major explaining what was happening, she would never have known it was George. The tall bearskin covered most of her face, but then the screen changed to a close up and she would have recognized those eyes anywhere.
Bea gasped, and Major Fairfax thought she’d asked a question. “Sorry, Miss Elliot?”
She looked at him and stuttered, “I just wondered what uniform Queen Georgina had on. It’s very striking.”
“Ah yes, of course. Well, she is entitled to wear many uniforms, as she is commander-in-chief of the military as a whole, but she also inherited the role of colonel-in-chief of many regiments. Today Her Majesty has chosen to wear her Scots Guards uniform.”
They heard the parade commander shout, “Royal salute! Present arms!” All the Guardsmen lining the route and the cavalry waiting to escort the Queen came to attention.
Queen Georgina and her horse strode through the gates and stopped, while the national anthem was played.
Major Fairfax whispered, “Once the anthem is played, she will make her way down the Mall.”
Bea thought it
was wonderful watching the Queen ride through the crowds. They cheered, shouted, and waved flags, delighted to be part of the pageantry. Her people loved her, and so did Bea.
Bea had to admit, the whole occasion was magnificent. The marching and manoeuvres the soldiers performed on Horse Guards Parade, with only a few shouted commands, were remarkable. And as she watched the woman she loved taking the salute of all the regiments, it brought home to her just how important her role as monarch was. She couldn’t help but feel a tremendous pride in the country, the military, and the ceremony, and that was something she’d never expected.
The ceremony was now in its final stages as the procession moved from the parade ground back up the Mall towards the palace.
*
George smiled and nodded to the crowds as she trotted back down the Mall. She breathed a sigh of relief as she neared the end of her first birthday parade. It couldn’t have gone better, Papa.
Then she felt a small thud against her chest. She looked down and her tunic was splattered with what looked like black dye. The horse bucked and neighed at the noise of the shot, and George struggled to get it back under control.
There were screams from the crowd and the Horse Guards behind her rushed up to surround the Queen and drew their swords. The remaining mounted and foot guards surrounded the other members of the royal family. Above the chaotic scene, a message was projected on the screens that lined the route:
Today was a warning. The next time you will die. You will never be allowed to remain on the throne. Leave, or face the consequences.
*
The Queen insisted on finishing the parade, much to the parade commander’s chagrin. A lone extremist would not be allowed to ruin the day.
After the family made the customary balcony appearance, the Queen met with Inspector Lang, Colonel Fitzpatrick the parade commander, and representatives of the security services involved in the day’s security.
