by Odo Hirsch
In Eugenie’s opinion, it must have been Amelia’s fault. Amelia didn’t tell Eugenie and Kevin about everything that happened with the Princess, because that would have meant telling them about the story she wrote, but she told them enough. And one thing was immediately apparent. To Eugenie, at least.
‘You’ve ruined it! You realise that, don’t you, Amelia? Not only for you, but for everyone!’
Amelia didn’t know what she was talking about.
‘If the Princess had liked you,’ said Eugenie, ‘she’d have asked you to bring a friend next time.’
‘Like you, I suppose,’ said Kevin.
Amelia sighed. ‘Eugenie, there was never going to be a next time. Haven’t you heard a thing I told you? The Princess doesn’t normally meet children. She only did it because of Mr Vishwanath’s suggestion.’
‘But if she’d liked you, it would have been different, wouldn’t it?’
Amelia glanced at Kevin and rolled her eyes in frustration.
‘Did you do what I told you?’ demanded Eugenie. ‘Did you curtsy?’
Amelia shook her head.
‘Hah! See?’
‘And I didn’t call her Your Highness, either.’
‘Well, what do you expect?’ cried Eugenie.
‘She said I had to call her Your Serenity.’
‘Oh.’
Kevin grinned.
Eugenie ignored him. ‘And did you do that?’
‘Yes,’ said Amelia.
Eugenie narrowed her eyes. ‘Every time?’
‘Once or twice, anyway.’
‘Hah!’ cried Eugenie again. ‘You have to say it every time you say something.’
‘It wasn’t that,’ said Amelia.
‘Then what was it?’ demanded Eugenie. Suddenly she stopped, and gave Amelia a piercing glance. ‘Did you take a gift?’
‘She didn’t want a gift.’
‘But did you take one?’
Amelia frowned. She had no intention of saying anything about the story. It might have been different if the Princess had loved it, or even just liked it, or even just said something pleasant about it out of politeness. If that had happened, Amelia might have told Eugenie and Kevin about it, and even admitted that she had been writing stories for years. In a way, it would have been a relief to tell them, and she had sometimes thought about doing it. But not now. All she’d get was the Martin Martinez treatment. Or worse.
Eugenie was still watching her keenly. Amelia could see that she knew there was something Amelia wasn’t telling them.
‘She was rude, that’s all,’ said Amelia abruptly, and she marched off.
Eugenie and Kevin ran to catch up with her.
They went into the Froot Jus bar. Eugenie kept glancing at Amelia as they waited to be served.
‘What?’ whispered Amelia.
‘She was the rude one, was she?’ said Eugenie. ‘That was the problem, was it? Nothing you might have done?’
Obviously, for Eugenie Edelstein, a princess could do no wrong, and if there was ever a problem it had to be someone else’s fault.
‘Yes, she was,’ said Amelia. ‘Rude. She said she didn’t like meeting children because they behave disgracefully. She said it to my face without even waiting to see how I behaved!’
‘She’d already seen, I think.’
‘Once! That was only once, Eugenie. She was the one who behaved disgracefully this time.’
Eugenie glanced at Amelia pitifully, as if there were something very, very sad about a girl who could delude herself as to who was to blame in such a situation.
The man behind the counter was ready to serve them. Kevin got a mango and banana smoothie. Amelia got a blackcurrant, gooseberry and papaya crush. And Eugenie, after carefully examining every option on the board, got a cucumber juice.
They sat down.
‘It’s peculiar,’ said Amelia, staring thoughtfully at Eugenie’s drink.
‘No, it’s not! I love cucumber juice,’ retorted Eugenie, and she grimaced as she took a sip.
‘No, what Mr Vishwanath said to me afterwards. He said the Princess was always worried about whether people were treating her importantly enough, and that was her tragedy.’
Eugenie shook her head dismissively. ‘That’s just Mr Vishwanath.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ demanded Amelia. ‘Nothing.’
‘What?’ demanded Amelia again.
‘It’s just . . . he’s odd, Amelia. Admit it.’
‘He’s not odd.’
‘Of course he is. How many students does he have, not counting the Princess? Yet he sends people away. If that’s not odd, I don’t know what is.’
‘You have to admit,’ said Kevin, ‘it is odd.’
‘Mr Vishwanath doesn’t care about money,’ replied Amelia.
‘See?’ Eugenie threw up her hands. ‘What more proof do you need?’
Amelia sucked on her straw. She knew that people said Mr Vishwanath was odd – when they weren’t saying even worse things. She wished she could stop them. But she knew Mr Vishwanath himself wouldn’t care. She could just imagine what he would say if she told him. It wouldn’t worry him, not even for a second. ‘It would be like a fly sitting on his hand,’ said Amelia.
‘What would?’ asked Eugenie.
‘If you told him you think he’s odd. He wouldn’t even notice it was there. And if he did notice, he would gently brush it away. He wouldn’t try to kill it, because it’s so unimportant it wouldn’t even be worth it. He’d just brush it away and not give it another moment’s thought.’
‘Amelia!’ exclaimed Eugenie. ‘That’s awful! We should always worry about what other people think of us! My mother says that’s the most important thing.’
Kevin frowned. That explained quite a lot.
‘Does Mr Vishwanath really say that?’ asked Eugenie.
‘Yes,’ said Amelia. He would, if anyone asked him. In fact, Amelia was feeling quite pleased with herself for thinking of it. It was exactly the way Mr Vishwanath would put it.
‘You mustn’t listen to him, Amelia. You really mustn’t.’
Amelia shrugged.
‘I’m serious!’
‘I know you are,’ said Amelia, and she exchanged a look with Kevin.
They sipped their juices. Eugenie kept glancing longingly at Amelia’s and Kevin’s drinks, but whenever they noticed, she took a big, wincing sip of her cucumber juice, as if nothing could be more delicious.
A couple came in and bought juices and sat down at a table. They kept holding each other’s hand and kissing. They hardly had time to drink their drinks because of all the kissing they were doing. Eugenie could barely take her eyes off them. Kevin and Amelia glanced at each other and grinned.
‘Come on, Eugenie,’ said Amelia eventually. ‘Let’s go.’
‘What?’
‘Come on,’ said Kevin. ‘Haven’t you seen anyone kiss before?’
Eugenie looked at him angrily. ‘I wasn’t watching them kiss.’
‘Well, I don’t know what else you were watching,’ said Amelia, ‘because that’s all they’ve been doing!’
The couple heard and looked at them sharply.
Amelia smiled, and walked out of the shop.
‘I wasn’t watching them kiss!’ said Eugenie again when they were outside.
‘Whatever,’ said Amelia.
‘I wasn’t!’
‘Why do you care so much even if you were?’ asked Kevin.
Eugenie glared at him, then refused to answer.
They headed home.
‘Well, I hope you’re happy,’ said Eugenie after a while. ‘You’ve ruined it, Amelia, absolutely ruined it for all of us.’
Kevin rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not back on the Princess again, are you?’
‘If only you’d done what I told you.’
‘Eugenie,’ muttered Kevin, ‘let it go.’
‘Was it too hard for you to bring her a gift? Was that really too hard?’
Amelia took a deep breath, trying to hold herself back. Even though Eugenie Edelstein was one of her two best friends, there were times when Eugenie was absolutely insufferable and Amelia wondered how she had ever ended up being friends with her at all. Like now. Moments like now made her wonder how you ever could become friends with anyone and not end up wanting to kill them.
Amelia glanced at her. Eugenie glanced back, and put her nose in the air.
‘Well, I’m sorry!’ said Amelia. ‘You won’t get the chance to meet her, alright? So just live with it.’ And Amelia put her nose in the air as well, to show Eugenie that two could play at that game.
They turned the corner into Marburg Street.
‘Ummm . . . you might,’ said Kevin.
‘What?’ demanded Eugenie.
‘Get the chance to meet her.’
Amelia and Eugenie dropped their noses and looked.
The cream-coloured car was parked outside the green house of Solomon Weiszacker. It was in exactly the place where it always parked when the Princess came for her yoga sessions, and the driver was in the front seat, just as he always was. Yet there was something unusual about the scene. The Princess, who normally got out and went straight into Mr Vishwanath’s studio, was in the car as well. Sitting in the back seat. As if she was waiting for somebody.
CHAPTER 12
The driver got out of the car. He put on his hat and carefully adjusted it on his head and then he stood up straight – or as straight as he could, because he was quite bent with age – in front of Amelia and her two friends.
‘Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri,’ he announced solemnly, ‘has the honour to beg a favour of the Mademoiselle Amelia Dee.’ He spoke in an accent similar to that of the Princess, although stronger. When he said Amelia’s name, he pronounced it ‘Ehmeeelieh’, just as she had.
Amelia glanced at Eugenie, who was obviously as jealous as anything of the fact that Amelia had just been called a mademoiselle by a princess. Or at least by a princess’s driver.
‘Will you grant the Princess this favour?’ said the driver.
‘You’d better ask what it is first,’ whispered Kevin.
‘Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri requests of the Mademoiselle Amelia Dee the favour of seeing the lamp.’
‘The lamp?’ said Amelia.
The man nodded. ‘The peacock lamp.’
‘The lamp that I . . .’ Amelia paused, conscious that Eugenie and Kevin were hanging on every word. ‘The lamp that that I mentioned to her?’
The man frowned. ‘Please wait a minute.’ He turned around and opened the back door of the car and there was a hurried conversation between himself and the Princess.
‘Amelia,’ whispered Eugenie suspiciously. ‘What lamp is this? You didn’t tell us you mentioned any lamp.’
The man closed the door and turned around again. He drew himself up to his full, bent height. He was such a small man to begin with, and so hunched with age, that he stood hardly taller than Amelia herself.
‘Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri requests of the Mademoiselle Amelia Dee the favour of seeing the lamp that she mentioned, if, indeed, it is hanging in her house.’
‘It is hanging in her house,’ said Amelia.
‘Then Her Serenity requests the favour to see it.’
‘Now?’ said Amelia.
‘If this would be convenient,’ said the man.
Amelia really didn’t know why she should let the Princess see the lamp, after the Princess had been so horrible to her. She looked at the car and saw the Princess watching her from the back seat. Their eyes met. At first, all Amelia saw in the Princess’s gaze was insistence, an expectation of obedience, the look of someone who thought she had a right to be granted what she was asking. Exactly what you would expect from someone like the Princess. Then Amelia sensed that maybe there was something else there as well, something less certain in the Princess’s gaze, almost tentative, imploring. Maybe. Maybe it was only because it was so unexpected to see that in the Princess’s eyes that Amelia wasn’t sure whether it was there at all.
Amelia turned back to the man. ‘Alright,’ she said.
The man nodded. He turned around and opened the car door and said something. Then he stood back.
‘Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri,’ he announced solemnly.
Out of the car came the Princess. She was wearing her fur coat, as usual. Amelia wondered what was underneath it this time. Not the green yoga leotard. Or maybe it was the green leotard. Maybe that was all the Princess ever wore, a fur coat and leotard.
For an instant, Eugenie stared. Then she dropped into the lowest, most flamboyant curtsy imaginable, arms spread, head bowed, face down, her nose just about touching the pavement.
‘This is my friend, Eugenie Edelstein,’ said Amelia.
Eugenie dropped even lower, if that was possible.
‘And this is Kevin Chan,’ said Amelia.
‘Hello,’ said Kevin.
The Princess glanced at them for the briefest time imaginable. Then she looked at Amelia again. And Amelia could see that already she had put Kevin and Eugenie out of her mind – if they had even got into her mind – and as far as the Princess was concerned they were just two more people who had been introduced to her at some point during her life, and it could just as easily have happened a week ago, or a year ago, or ten years ago, as a minute ago, for all the difference it made to her.
‘I would be very grateful, Mademoiselle,’ she said stiffly to Amelia, ‘if I might see the lamp.’
It crossed Amelia’s mind that now was the time to tell the Princess she couldn’t see it. Now, after she had got out of the car. That would be humiliating. Perhaps not as humiliating as the way the Princess had treated her, but it would be something, at least.
She considered it for a moment. But she didn’t do it.
‘Follow me,’ said Amelia.
She led the Princess into the house through the door under Solomon Weiszacker’s plaque. Kevin followed, and so did Eugenie, after she finally got up from her curtsy. The Princess’s driver stayed outside with the car.
‘Through here,’ said Amelia, leading the Princess down the hall. She got to the bottom of the stairs. ‘It’s up there.’
Amelia flicked the switch at the bottom of the stairs. The light came on high above them, and the stairwell filled with the lamp’s soft, warm, stippled glow.
The Princess looked up. Amelia folded her arms and waited.
‘Amelia!’ said Mrs Ellis, bustling out of the kitchen. ‘I don’t think we need the light on in the middle of the day! How many times do I have to—’
Mrs Ellis stopped.
‘This is Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri,’ said Eugenie quickly, probably hoping the Princess would say she was grateful and call her a mademoiselle, as she had called Amelia.
‘And this is Mrs Ellis,’ said Amelia to the Princess.
Mrs Ellis stared in confusion. Then she did a little curtsy, which was much the strangest thing Amelia had seen on what was turning out to be a pretty strange day.
‘Of course, if you want to put it on . . .’ Mrs Ellis mumbled. ‘I mean . . . Your Serenity . . . naturally . . .’
‘Amelia!’ said her father, coming in from the back door. ‘Where have you been? I called you before to—’ He stopped. ‘Oh. Who’s this?’
The Princess looked at him.
‘Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri,’ said Amelia. ‘This is my father.’
The Princess nodded.
‘She’s come to see the lamp.’
‘The lamp?’ said Amelia’s father.
Amelia pointed towards the ceiling at the top of the stairs.
‘If I may see it,’ said the Princess.
‘Oh. Of course,’ said Amelia’s father. ‘You’re very welcome to see it. It’s just a lamp, though. A beautiful lamp, but just a lamp.’
The Princess’s eyes narrowed.
‘There’s n
othing particularly special . . . I mean technically . . . and it’s not as if there’s any kind of a story . . .’
Amelia’s father’s voice trailed away. The Princess had turned from him, and was gazing upwards once more.
He leaned closer to Amelia. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Amelia mentioned the lamp to the Princess, Mr Dee,’ whispered Kevin.
‘When?’
‘When she met her.’
Amelia’s father frowned. ‘You’ve met this Princess, Amelia? When?’
A huge crash came from behind the door of the sculpture room on the second floor, followed by an ear-piercing wail of frustration.
The Princess looked at Amelia, as if awoken from her thoughts. ‘I would like to see the lamp more closely, if I may.’
‘You mean you want to go up?’ asked Amelia.
‘If you would allow me.’
Amelia glanced at her father. He shrugged.
‘Why not?’ said Amelia.
‘Does that mean I may?’ asked the Princess.
‘Yes,’ said Amelia.
The Princess nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She moved to the stairs, then stopped, noticing the first of the paintings that lined the wall of the staircase.
‘It’s my mother’s,’ said Amelia. ‘They all are.’
One of the Princess’s eyebrows rose a fraction. Then she put her foot on the first step.
‘Um . . .’ Amelia’s father coughed. ‘You might want to watch out for the wires. On the stairs. Nothing to worry about . . . it’s just . . . work in progress . . .’
The Princess looked down. Her eyebrow rose higher. Carefully, she started up the stairs.
The Princess ascended slowly. Behind her came Amelia, Kevin, Eugenie, Amelia’s father and Mrs Ellis, all in a kind of procession.
As they got to the second floor, the door of the sculpture room opened, and out came Amelia’s mother in her sculpting smock, covered in white stone dust.
‘How can I work?’ she yelled. ‘All these footsteps! These foot—’ She stopped.
‘This is Her Serenity the Princess Parvin Kha-Douri,’ said Eugenie.
‘Oh,’ said Amelia’s mother.
The Princess nodded at her.
‘She’s come to see the lamp,’ said Amelia’s father, and he glanced upwards to show her which lamp he meant.
