by Anna Bloom
“I honestly can’t thank you enough. You know, I’ve been thinking about buying a small house here, as a little getaway. Can I just say you’ve made us feel most welcome.”
That was it. Poor Sandra lost all words.
She wasn’t the only one.
With a grin he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fifty-pound note. I could only assume he didn’t have room for it in his wallet because it was stuffed full of condoms. “For the magazines and lunch,” he told her.
She had no comeback. She just stared as he grasped us and moved us back to the door, Daisy still holding onto more magazines than she’d ever been allowed to buy in her life.
Five
I almost faceplanted the pavement. It zoomed up to me so quick it would have made road rash if he hadn’t caught me.
He frowned, his lips pursing. “What is wrong with your feet? Seriously, you seem to have considerable issues with balance.”
There were so many things to say; to question. Like what was he talking about, buying a property? What did he mean family? I mean, I was all for private kingdoms, but the F word had huge connotations attached to it. I settled for, “You bought her too many magazines. She knows the rules, only one at a time.”
He laughed loudly. “And that’s the reprimand that first came to mind?”
“It’s not a reprimand.” I felt sorrier for Sandra as my own flush crept up my neck. “It’s experience—later on there will be bits of paper everywhere and it’s a bugger to pick up.”
He glanced up and down the road. Sandra hadn’t exaggerated when she’d told us how tiny the village was. Really, it just had one road. One way seemed intent on a curve downwards, the other led past the shop where we stood, and rolled way along some green fields. “You know what, Leia? I’m starting to like this place.”
“Really? Like it enough to buy a house here?”
He smirked and for a moment I considered if there were rules against punching the heir to the throne. I reckon if he asked for it enough, I’d get away with it. “I’ve already got fond memories,” he added as his gaze drifted to my lips. I knew what memories he meant.
“And the place you suggested we stayed at earlier?” I reminded him.
“Oh that old dust gatherer. That’s an old family place from The Second World War.”
I nodded. Of course it was. I mean, what else would it be?
“Well how about, before you put down a deposit on somewhere we might never come to again, we decide if this village really is all it’s cracked up to be?”
“Sure.” He grabbed my hand. “I’ve got good vibes though.
Crazy vibes if you asked me.
He seemed almost too carefree. A bell jingled in my brain. “You didn’t run in and pay her off before I got there did you?” I stared at him in alarm. “Oh God. You paid off the whole village yesterday, didn’t you?”
Chuckling, he pulled me into his side, sliding his arm over my shoulder, his other hand gripping Daisy’s free one. At a glance we would look like any other family out for a morning stroll.
“Family?” My voice quivered over the word.
He shot me a deep forest green glance. “Easier.”
“More rumours though.”
“Rumours don’t matter anymore, Leia. So long as we both know what we want and feel. Weren’t you the one saying that?”
I nodded. He had me there. But then my words had been bolder in the safety of the gaudy cottage. Out here they meant things. Promised things.
“Sure.”
He shot me a fleeting smile. “This is all new to me too, Leia. I’ve never shown anyone who I am before, not until I met you.”
I pondered over his words as we walked to a small and pretty pub. Vibrant hanging baskets, despite the autumn weather, hung from wrought-iron hooks and bounced slightly in the sea breeze. The Red Lion had an old-fashioned sign, that looked like it should belong on a coat of arms, and a front door so small Oliver had to stoop low to step inside. The front bar seemed empty, although a cheery fire crackled in the hearth.
We hadn’t made it to the bar before a woman—I could only assume was Louise, bustled out through a side door, a phone wedged under her ear. Buxom and wide-hipped she looked the epitome of landlady constitution—assuming you weren’t basing your landlady knowledge on characters from Eastenders. “Rightio, Sandra. I have them here.” Daisy glanced up in surprise and the woman, who looked like she’d run a marathon in a hurricane, hung up the phone.
“Now, now, don’t you worry, little one. Aunty Louise has you covered. Now if you’d just follow me, I’ve got a perfect table for you tucked just round the back here.”
She didn’t allow us to speak for ourselves, or even to look at one another as she grabbed my arm and towed me towards what looked like a small nook area. Another fire roared and the wooden rustic table sparkled with place settings for three.
Wow. The women in this village worked quick.
“Now, you’ll be out of sight here, not that we’re busy just yet. You’ve got here just before the lunch rush starts. You’ll be wanting three full breakfasts?” She pulled a small pad and a chewed biro out of her spotlessly clean apron. “Cider or tea?”
I had trouble getting my brain to work. Meeting Louise was like falling headfirst under the persistent but unstoppable approach of a steamroller.
“Cider for breakfast?” I queried.
“Goes perfectly with my sausages, my lovey.” She looked at her watch. “And it’s almost lunch now anyway.”
“Oh. Uh, okay.” Jeez, I didn’t want to mess with the woman’s sausages.
“Cider sounds wonderful.” Oliver answered for both of us.
“Okay.” I pulled a face.
“Now, have you got accommodation, or will you be needing some rooms?”
Oliver shot her a polite smile. “We have, thank you.” The spike in his tone spoke for itself.
“Oh, lovey, don’t you worry about us. Sounds like a right old hornet nest you’ve created in London. Don’t you worry though, we don’t give in for such things down here.”
He flashed her his most blinding smile, but it didn’t seem to affect her at all; the woman was a machine. “I appreciate your discretion.”
To my horror she winked. “Aye aye, lovey. I bet you do.”
She waddled off quite happy we’d given in to her suggestion of cider with her sausages. “Have you ever been called lovey before, my lovey?” I asked, straightening up the already straight knife and fork my side of the table.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Clearly not enough. Wow, what a place we’ve found.”
“Yep, it’s certainly something.”
His fingers caught mine, his thumb running along my palm. “And who said I’d never get to take you to the pub?”
“You did.”
“Looks like I’m rewriting all the rules.”
I held his gaze for a moment before turning my attention to Daisy who had her magazines spread out before her. “All the rules.”
I settled back in my seat and waited for the infamous cider, watching as Oliver helped Daisy with the first page of the first magazine.
One cider became three, which meant my legs on the walk down to the sea felt like they didn’t belong to me. Worrying, considering they never really felt like they belonged to me anyway.
We didn’t have to go back to the shop for beach snacks, not that we even needed lunch after the epic breakfast. It had been delivered by Sandra, who had performed some ninja moves to get it through the packed bar to where we sat in the nook.
Loud voices, laughter and jokes had filled the quiet of the quaint pub, as locals had flittered in through the low doorway, but not one person had stepped into the space where we sat. Louise had been as good as her word.
I might love her for it.
It became a normal afternoon in the pub with my man; assuming one could look past the fact my man wasn’t normal at all and one day he’d have a crown on his head.
I giggled and then stumbled over a small hill in the sand.
“Something funny?” Oliver’s skin had picked up a brightness from the wind, making him even more beautiful if such a thing were possible. Daisy still held his hand. Possibly because her energy levels were now flagging, or maybe because she didn’t want him to let her go.
“I’m thinking about you with a crown on your head.”
He glared, but his lips curved at the edges. “I can assure you, I’ll make it look good.”
“Have you thought about what it will mean to be king? Like, Ollie.” My words slurred together a little bit. “You’re actually going to be king. Like a real king.”
He rolled his eyes—utterly un-monarch like.
“One day you are going to have to sit there with that long pole thingy and open parliament.”
“Leia! I would never get my long pole thingy out in public.”
I batted him with my hand and nodded my head at Daisy. His lips quirked. “Daisy what’s that long pole thingy called the king has in parliament?” he asked her.
“A sceptre,” she responded with no hesitation.
“And how do you know that?” I asked, trying to put my hands on my hips but unable to maintain my wobbly balance without pitching to the side.
She turned her big blues onto me. “I told you, Mrs Evans is teaching us about the royals.”
I cringed at the way she spoke of her favourite teacher in the present tense. Oliver reached over and squeezed my hand, giving me a small smile.
I nodded and took a breath. It was okay. This was my choice. No one could deny it would be hard, but it still remained my choice to make.
“You okay, Daisy?”
“I’m fine, Mummy. I love the beach.”
I gazed out to sea and then closed my eyes, allowing the salty air to drift over my skin. Oliver dropped my fingers and over the rolling thunder of the sea I could hear him talking to Daisy as they walked away.
Strangely calming, the ebb and flow of the sea soothed me. I don’t know how long I stood like that, just breathing, salt tanging my tongue.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked eventually, his arms slipping around me from behind and holding me tight.
“I’m thinking,” I turned to peck his cheek and then stared back out at the grey sea. “That I thought I’d had my hardest choice in having Daisy, keeping her, bringing her up by myself.”
“Wasn’t it?” His body stiffened beneath me.
“It was. Now it’s you. I’ve got to keep you.” I glanced up at him. “Being here is lovely, but it’s not going to last forever is it? We’ll have to go back.”
“We can stay for a while longer if you like? I’m liking it here.”
“How long?”
He shrugged, the green of his gaze deepening as he stared at the grey clouds overhead. “Even a prince is allowed a holiday.” He smiled but I knew he was putting it off. Soon we’d have to go back and face that hornet’s nest we’d made.
“A few days.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.” I turned and kissed him, the wind whipping my hair.
His kiss deepened, teasing into my mouth.
“Uh, get a room.”
We pulled apart, and open mouthed I turned to Daisy. “Who taught you to say that?”
She thought for a minute but then shrugged and Oliver and I stared at one another, a bubble built in my throat. “She’s only six,” I mouthed.
“Kids these days.” He grinned wide. “Come on,” he spoke louder to Daisy. “A couple of sandcastles then we should get you back to the cottage for a nap.”
She groaned but didn’t argue. The sea and brisk breeze had brought some colour to her cheeks, but I knew she must be tired. In fact, I felt exhausted too.
“I could do with a nap myself.” I linked my arm through his and he leant over, his breath brushing under my ear again.
“There’ll be no napping for us.”
I burned almost instantly, scorching in a pyre of my own desire. This man would be the end of me. I’d take it though. Without any hesitation.
Two days slipped by almost too quickly. Too idyllic, too perfect in the gradual routine we got into. Meals at the pub, nights in the gaudy bedroom. On the third day Daisy had obviously improved. Nap time had disappointingly reduced to a big fat zero.
Questions and expectation hung in the air. Oliver’s gaze became troubled. His phone rang more.
When my own rang as we sat watching the fifth viewing of Tangled, which I knew Oliver was enjoying as much as Daisy, I almost didn’t answer.
“Leia, it’s your phone.” That frown that had been creeping back in the last twelve hours deepened. “Remind me to talk to Bill about getting you a new contract.”
I watched him for a moment. I think his mental list of all the things he needed to do to keep Daisy and I safe grew by the minute.
The team had been here since the evening of our first trip to the beach. Bill, relentless in his service to his prince, just lingered in the background. I remembered to make him cups of tea though, which I think had been winning him around to his unexpected vacation on the bleak almost wintery edge of Cornwall.
I dug my phone out from my bag and blinked at the screen. “It’s just Molly.” I went to answer but then stopped. “Bloody hell, what day is it? She’s supposed to be coming back down on Saturday. It’s not Saturday yet is it?” I really didn’t know.
“It’s Thursday.” Oliver’s smile turned into a smirk. He knew the reason I’d lost track of days—him—long nights, easy days.
“Oh phew. That could have been awkward.”
Oliver’s expression darkened but not thinking anything of it I turned and answered the phone. “Hey,” I whispered turning for the kitchen which I stole into so as to not disturb the film.
“Thank God you answered. I’ve been worried sick.”
“You have?”
“Leia, I’ve called like a gazillion times, but couldn’t get through. I know coverage is rubbish down there but that’s crazy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know my phone rang.”
“How are you? Holding up okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Daisy is doing so much better; she seems at full strength now.”
“That’s good. She’ll be able to go back to school after the break. Now I was thinking, and don’t shoot me down before I’ve finished.” Molly gushed her words the way she always did when she’d fixated on something. I’d known her long enough to know she wouldn’t take a breath for at least thirty seconds. “I think you should stay with me. I’ve got room, I mean, I know it’s not ideal and it would make the commute to school longer for Daisy, but we could order cabs every day. If you were here though at least the press wouldn’t be able to find you, and hopefully by the time they did it all would have blown over.”
Ah. I saw my mistake. In my relief that Oliver had come back—and we’d not only reinforced our relationship, but over the last few days strengthened it into something I’d never anticipated—I’d failed to ring Molly.
My friendship skills sucked.
“Molly. Wait.”
“No. I said you can’t argue with me. I talked to Janine last night after work, and we really think that while everything that’s been printed has been awful, it would be good for you to come back to work. Everyone knows why you are here now, you may as well make the most of it. You’re an ambassador for dealing with shit.”
“Molly.” My voice cut in louder. “He’s here. He came the night you guys left.”
Silence met my words and I could almost hear her snapping her mouth shut.
“Prince Oliver is there with you now?”
“Uh yeah; it’s unreal isn’t it?”
“Well, what’s he said?” Molly’s enthusiasm cooled.
“That he was sorry, that he had things to sort out, but he wants us to be together.”
Another pause.
“Molly say something.”
�
��I—I don’t know what to say. So you are officially dating the future king?”
“Well, um, I guess it’s official.” I thought of him and what he’d said that first morning here when he’d called us his family. “I don’t think he’s planning on changing his mind.”
She tutted. “And you’ve forgiven him?”
“It’s not as black and white as that.” I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I know it sounds crazy, and we haven’t been together that long. I know nothing about this is normal, but I don’t think I can live without him.”
“And the press? Have you even met his family? Leia, this isn’t a guy from the local. I mean, what do you know about being royal?”
Her words, accurate at they were, stung, piercing my bubble of the last few days with a sharp pin.
“Aren’t you pleased for me?”
My voice wobbled, but I straightened my back. She sighed, dramatically. “Yes. Yes, I guess so. What happens now? Where are you going to live?”
I nibbled my lip—well this was going to sound crap. “I don’t actually know. I mean we haven’t finalised anything.”
“So, he’s still denying it then to his family?”
“I don’t think so…” I trailed off. I mean he hadn’t actually said…? But then didn’t he tell me everyone knew where he was—even the cook knew…?
“Leia!”
I wanted to be mad at her lack of enthusiasm, but I knew she had my best interests at heart, possibly more than I did in the moment. “Molly…”
“Okay, okay. So you don’t need me to come down this weekend?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Whatever. And Janine? What should I say to her? She’s worried sick about you. She’s blaming herself, of all things.”
“I’ll come to talk to her as soon as I can.” I stared at the ceiling and chewed on my lip again, making it sore this time. “I really thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Happy my best friend has finally got a boyfriend, hell yes. Happy she’s going to be hounded forever… It’s going to take me a while to get on board with that one.”
