Rebecca felt Richard’s lips pressed against hers, soft and gentle and then stronger and more passionate. She knew she should pull away; knew she should tell Richard to stop. But she didn’t want to. For once in your life, let him love you.
Rebecca wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back – her passion matching, if not surpassing, his. She kissed Richard with the love she felt during business school. The frustration she felt during her marriage. The loneliness since her divorce. All of the feelings that Rebecca kept pent-up for the past thirty-four years came pouring out on the back patio of Richard’s home in the English countryside.
As the kiss deepened, Rebecca’s thoughts faded. She lost herself in the strength of Richard’s embrace. He stood from the chair and pulled her up with him, their bodies pressed flush against each other. Without breaking their kiss, Richard walked them backward, step by step until Rebecca felt the wall of the house against her back.
Oh my God, she thought in a brief gasp for air. “I dreamt of this.”
“What?” Richard asked, breathing hard.
Oh shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“No, what did you say?”
“I said I dreamt of this. You. Me. Pressed up against a wall . . . ”
Richard smiled. “Oh really?” He brushed Rebecca’s hair away from her eyes. “What else did you dream about, beautiful?”
“I . . . umm . . . ”
“Mom!”
The sound of Sarah’s voice broke through the morning air.
“Mom – where are you?”
Richard let out a frustrated sigh and stepped back from Rebecca, walking over to his chair and picking up his coffee. “She’s over here,” he called out in response.
Sarah rounded the corner to find her mother and Lord Dublinshire standing three feet apart, each holding a coffee mug and showing no signs of what happened between them.
“It’s the White House,” Sarah said. “The President wants to speak with you.”
EIGHTY
That afternoon, Sarah and Jonathan decided to drive into the nearby town and see what they could find. Their mother stayed behind, blaming it on work calls she needed to return.
As soon as the estate’s Range Rover pulled out of view on the gravel drive, Richard took Rebecca’s hand in his. “Come on. I have something I want to show you.”
With Gus leading the way, the pair walked around the outside of the house and past the patio. Rebecca shivered as she remembered that morning’s embrace. Richard kept going, though, past the gardens and a small gate into the more wooded grounds behind the main house.
“Don’t go too far, buddy,” Richard said when Gus took off after a small animal. “Probably a rabbit. They’re all over the place.”
He led Rebecca through high grass and over fallen trees, always careful to sidestep holes or push hanging branches out of the way. After a few minutes, they arrived at their destination. The area was overgrown, but Rebecca could tell that something used to be there. A small stone wall in the shape of an L jutted up from the ground, and the remains of a crumbled chimney stood a few feet away.
“Centuries ago, this was the game warden’s cottage,” Richard explained. “By the time my sister and I were kids, there wasn’t much left. It was our secret play place, though. No nannies allowed.”
Rebecca smiled and sat down on the wall. “I like it. It’s hard to picture you bounding about the woods, though.”
“I’m a city boy at heart, but I have my moments. And this spot . . . this spot is special. I always came out here after a fight with my dad or a bad term at school. I came here on the day my parents told me I couldn’t marry you.”
Rebecca reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him down to sit next to her. Richard put his arm around her shoulder. He used his free hand to lift her chin, leaned down, and kissed her.
“Richard – ”
“Stop thinking,” he whispered. “Stop thinking for one second and just feel.”
Rebecca leaned into his embrace and kissed him back, reaching up to run her hands through his hair. A moment later, though, she pulled away.
“No, this is reckless. We can’t lose control like this.”
Richard realized that he wasn’t going to kiss his way through the situation. He got up off the wall and stood facing a nearby pasture, his hands on his hips. “I’ve never liked that feeling,” he said. “Being out of control. It’s why I prepare so much for meetings. Why I don’t drink to excess anymore. There’s one exception, though.” Richard turned to look at her. “I lose complete control when I’m around you, Becks. My brain shuts off and my heart – and other body parts – skip into overdrive. But I don’t mind. I may not have control, but you do. If there’s one person in the world who I trust with my heart, it’s you. Because you’ve had it for the last thirty-four years.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and a single tear rolled down each cheek.
“We’re adults,” Richard pressed. “We’re in charge. I don’t have to answer to my parents anymore – they’re dead. You’re divorced. Let’s finally be together.”
“Which one of us gives up their job, hmm?”
“Who says we have to give up our jobs? We can be long distance until we either lose an election or get tired of being that far apart. But together long distance is better than not together at all.”
“The media would hound us relentlessly.”
“Fuck the media. Fuck everything.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, Richard. I’m not afraid to say it now. But we’re changing the world for the better. We can’t throw that away. We can’t be that selfish.”
Richard stepped forward and took both of her hands in his. “Sometimes I wonder if we met too soon, when we were too young for it to go anywhere; sometimes I wish we’d been around each other in the middle years when we were figuring more things out in our respective lives; and some days – today, for example – I dare to wonder if we have actually, unintentionally, done something quite incredible . . . and found each other again.”
Rebecca sighed. “My God, that’s beautiful.”
He took a step closer, but she narrowed her eyes and smirked. “Who wrote it?”
“What?”
“I know you, Richard Arrington. You’re not that poetic. Where’d you read it – a Hallmark card?”
Richard closed his eyes, then laughed. “You always did see right through me. But no, I didn’t read it in a greeting card. A friend of mine from university wrote it in a love letter to his girlfriend. I saw it on his desk before he sent it.”
“And what – held on to the quote for forty years in case you ever needed it?”
“Fits our situation pretty damn well, don’t you think?”
“It does.”
Richard again stepped toward his old friend, this time wrapping his arms around her waist. “Does that mean you’ll give us another go?”
“We never gave us a first go.”
“True. It’s not too late, Becks.”
She let out a deep breath. “We don’t tell anyone? We just talk and FaceTime and sneak in visits here and there?”
Richard smiled bigger than he ever had in his life. “However you want it to be, my darling. My beautiful, darling Rebecca.”
He bent over and kissed her. This time, Rebecca didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question. She leaned forward and melted into his arms. For the first time in her life, Rebecca felt like she was complete.
EIGHTY-ONE
Sarah and Jonathan could tell that something happened at Rosewood between their mom and Richard, but they didn’t have time to ask her about it before Jonathan left for Harvard Business School. And Rebecca kept things quiet enough that, by the middle of September, her children figured whatever was going on with Richard had faded away.
In reality, though, Richard and Rebecca’s relationship was stronger than ever. She started calling him during her early morning runs, which gave t
hem almost an hour to talk. Richard blocked the time on his work calendar as ‘Do Not Disturb’.
“You must be in ridiculously good shape,” he told Rebecca one morning. It was six-thirty her time, and she was barely breathing hard.
Rebecca laughed. “I wish. I’m walking right now, not running.”
“When did that change?”
“A week or two ago. I’m fifty-six. My joints don’t put up with me like they used to.”
“Tell me about it,” Richard replied. “I have to ice my knees every time I play tennis.” He paused, then said: “I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go. The only person allowed to interrupt me during this time is the prime minister, and he just called.”
“Of course, absolutely. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
****
Richard ended the call with Rebecca and stood up from his office chair. Putting on his suit jacket, he walked down a flight of stairs and out the back door onto his patio. Richard passed through the L-shaped garden that his home shared with his boss and neighbor, and he nodded a greeting to the security officer stationed at the door to Number 10.
“He’s expecting me,” Richard said. The guard spoke into his earpiece for a moment before moving aside and letting Richard walk by.
The Chancellor of the Exchequer stepped through the back entrance to Number 10 Downing Street. The prime minister wanted to talk to him in person, and the best way to do that without alerting the press was to walk through their respective back yards.
Richard climbed the stairs to the third floor. The prime minister’s executive assistant waved Richard through, and he stepped inside an office to find his boss looking out the window holding a glass of vodka in his hand.
“Starting a little early today, are we?” Richard joked.
“Sit down, Arrington,” the PM replied.
Richard stopped smiling and did as he was told. He had known the Prime Minister for his entire adult life, and Richard had never seen him like this. “What’s going on, Jack?”
“No sense beating about the bush. I’ve been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. It’s early stages right now, but doctors expect it to progress rapidly. I’ve spoken with the Queen. We both agreed: I’ll stay on through the end of the month, and then you’ll be the next prime minister.”
EIGHTY-TWO
Three weeks later, Richard trudged up the staircase of 10 Downing Street late on a Thursday night. It was only his fourth full day as Prime Minister, but his feet were heavy, his eyes drooped low, and his stomach rumbled from hunger. Bugger, I haven’t eaten all day. He knew the job would be difficult, but this was a level of busy and exhausted that was impossible to prepare for.
His cell phone started vibrating in his pocket.
Can they not leave me alone for one fucking second?
“What do you want?” he snapped when he answered the phone.
“Umm, Richard?”
He recognized the young female voice but couldn’t place who it was.
“This is Sarah. Sarah Bailey.”
Richard let out a frustrated sigh. “Hi Sarah. I apologize for my tone. It’s been a long day.”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue. I know you’re super busy right now with your new job. I’ll call your assistant tomorrow and make an appointment.”
“No, no. Not necessary. You’re family. Family doesn’t need an appointment.”
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to call and invite you to come visit. Since you hosted us, I thought we could host you.”
Richard shook his head as he opened the pantry door and searched for something to eat. “I can’t right now, Sarah. I’m neck deep in the transition. Not to mention the press coverage if I decided to go on holiday to America right now.”
“Surely you could slip in unnoticed for a few days?” she asked. “We have a house in upstate New York. Mom is spending the next two weeks there, working remotely. Come visit.”
“I wish I could, honey. But your mum understands. I talked to her this morning. She’s going to come over here for Christmas when everything slows down and everyone is away for the winter break.”
“It can’t wait until Christmas.”
Richard stopped scrounging for food. “What do you mean, it can’t wait?”
“Just come over here, okay?”
“What’s wrong?” Richard asked. His face turned ghost white and his heart was pounding.
“I . . . she . . . she made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
“Sarah . . . tell me.”
“Just come, okay? I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if you value your relationship with my mom, if you still love her at all, come. As soon as you can.”
EIGHTY-THREE
No matter what his title or station in life, and no matter how many times he had been there before, Richard still got knots in his stomach every time his car passed through the gates of Buckingham Palace. The five-story building with 775 rooms was as famous as it was beautiful – the London home of Britain’s monarchs dating back to Queen Victoria.
Richard felt like an imposter today, even though he knew how absurd it was for the sitting prime minister to feel that way.
Get a grip, he told himself, taking a deep breath and straightening his tie. You’re telling her about a trip, not a coup.
Even though he didn’t technically need the Queen’s permission, Richard felt that he owed it to Her Majesty – his boss – to tell her the truth.
Richard drummed his fingers against his legs as he waited to be shown into the Audience Room. He would meet with the Queen every Wednesday afternoon as part of his duties as Prime Minister, but today’s audience was special. Because I asked to see her, he thought.
A few minutes later, a man in uniform ushered Richard into the medium-sized, tastefully appointed room where Her Majesty held most of her one-on-one meetings.
The Queen held out her hand, upon which he placed a light kiss. “Your Majesty,” said Richard, bowing his head.
“A request for an emergency audience your first week in office,” she replied. “On a Friday morning, no less. You’re lucky the weather was poor in Norfolk today . . . I was supposed to have traveled to Sandringham last night.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you very much for seeing me.”
“Well, who died? Who is getting sacked?”
“No one, ma’am. I needed to inform you that I must go to New York for a few days on personal business.”
“I hardly think a trip to York is worthy of an audience,” said the Queen.
“New York, ma’am. In the United States.”
“Whatever for?”
Richard sighed. “I’m not 100% sure. My best friend’s daughter called me last night and said I need to go over there. All she would say was that it can’t wait, and I need to go.”
The Queen was growing more and more frustrated by the second. “Prime Minister, you will find in this job that personal needs must be set aside. You are in service to your country. Your life does not belong to you.”
“Yes ma’am, I understand that. I know the timing could not be worse. But she isn’t just my best friend. She’s the woman I’m seeing . . . the woman I love. The woman I’ve always loved.”
Her Majesty raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“With an American?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She nodded. “I’ve always viewed the role of the Crown to be one of advisement, not control. I will not prevent your travel, but I will advise to use your own funds. Leave now and return before the weekend is over. And have your speech prepared for when it all goes wrong.”
Richard let out a nervous laugh at the last part. “Yes ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
The Queen pressed a button on the table beside her, and the same uniformed servant appea
red. Richard knew that was his signal to leave.
“Best of luck to you, Lord Dublinshire,” she said. “Love is a hard thing to find, especially in lives like ours.”
EIGHTY-FOUR
Following the Queen’s advice, Richard chartered the first private plane he could find out of London’s RAF Northolt Jet Center. The military airport was often used by Her Majesty and other VIPs seeking complete privacy in their travels. Due to the secrecy of his trip and the element of surprise involved, Richard managed to convince all but one member of his security team to stay in London.
Eight hours later, at 3:00pm Eastern Standard Time, Richard stepped off the plane at Hudson Valley Regional Airport in New York. Gus trotted behind him, followed closely by the protection officer. Sarah was waiting for them in her blue 4Runner.
“Hop in,” she said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Our house is about twenty minutes away.”
South of the airport, where Wappinger Creek flowed into the larger Hudson River, Sarah pulled off Old Troy Road and onto her family’s large estate. Purchased at the height of her mom’s career at Goldman Sachs, the five-bedroom house in Wappingers Falls was Rebecca’s refuge from the demands of high finance.
As their SUV pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway, Richard looked out the window and admired the L-shaped, Craftsman style home in front of him. He stepped out of the car and looked beyond the house to the river below. Amazing. Absolutely gorgeous.
A man who Richard didn’t recognize opened the front door. Richard’s heart plummeted for half a second before he noticed the earpiece and coiled communications wire on the other man’s neck. Secret Service, Richard realized.
His own protection officer stepped forward and shook hands with his counterpart. Looking around, Richard noticed several other security personnel patrolling the area.
“This way,” Sarah said. “Mom is on the back patio. She still doesn’t know you’re coming.”
Every Star in the Sky Page 19
