Untitled ~ 2

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Chapter Two

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At five-thirty Anna Margaret took a quick shower, pondered whether to dress in running gear already and tied her hair back. She did not usually go out like that, but no one knew her here.

At a quarter to six, there was a soft knock on her door. George looked awake. He was probably up early at home as well, since he was never late to work. He simply did not look ready to run, but ready for anything else.

“You sure?” she asked him.

“Coffee and a nice view of the beach will do just fine. If anyone calls, what should I tell them?”

She clutched the bag with her other clothes under her arm and wondered who on earth would call so early on a Saturday morning – and why this was different from any other moment since she had been appointed. He had managed to survive not attending meetings she was in, too, by taking notes or asking people to ring back. “If it’s an emergency, planes going down, bombs going off, I suppose you will need to come running after us. If it’s something else, you can just tell them I’m running and I’ll be back eventually.”

“With the king.”

Oh, so that was the problem. He could not bring himself to say she was running with the king, but he did not have to. “You don’t have to mention him. I don’t know if he’s going. I wouldn’t put it past him to let me show up in running tights and then have a laugh at how foolish or fat I am.”

George either had no opinion of women in running tights or he chose to keep it to himself. He also did not care about reassuring her.

“I suppose his security staff are going, though,” she continued. “I suppose they must keep fit.”

“Yes, they seemed very fit.”

“The king implied that I was not fit.” She could not keep a small degree of indignation out of her voice and until someone reassured her on this point she might keep bringing it up.

“If he worked as much as you did, Madam Prime Minister, he would also be less fit.”

That was not exactly what she wanted to hear. “Damn, George, you’re supposed to say that for my age and position in life, I’m exceptionally fit and well-built.”

“Oh.” They had reached the car park and he unlocked the car. “Do you think the king will serve breakfast?”

“Men only think of food, don’t they? He didn’t say. Do you mean my predecessor –“ Anna Margaret knew George had worked for one other before her, “— never visited the king in his hideouts with you? What’s standard procedure?”

“The previous prime minister would never have flown out to see the previous king in this manner,” George said with his lips pursed. He had had to obey this time, but it was clear he had his reservations about the necessity.

“I suppose the previous king never gave any occasion for it,” she shot back. He was making it sound as if she was doing something unthinkable. All she had done was arrive unannounced. What was so bad about that?

“This one is indeed not his father. But, he does not have any children?”

She had told him that last night. “That’s what he says. He says he may not want any at all.”

George gasped. That was a dereliction of duty for sure.

---

The gates of the villa opened automatically when they came closer. Someone was apparently waiting for them. It made Anna Margaret feel a little more reassured that the run was indeed going to take place. Another man in a tracksuit opened the front door for them. It seemed to be a uniform of sorts around here. She watched him closely to see if he was the king, but his hair colour was different. And of course he would not be opening the door himself.

Then three nearly identically clad men appeared, all wearing sunglasses. They looked to be too fast for her and she tried to come up with a good reason to wriggle out of the running party. “Er…” she began, slightly visually overwhelmed. She spent too much time around older men in suits, if younger men in running tights had this effect on her – and she definitely spent too much time around old men if she considered these men young. “Are you all going? Because I’m fairly sure I’ll be slowing you down and His Majesty said I was too fat and –“

There was a suppressed snort from one of the identical trio, but he stepped aside. The middle one removed his sunglasses and squinted at her. “What’s this backtracking? They say you’ve got balls.”

So he was the middle one. She saw him smirk, but she did not immediately know what to respond. Surely formality was not required if he began about balls? It was Saturday, of course, and he might be off-duty. “Well, anyway, my secretary would like a cup of coffee and a view of the sea. He opted out of the run.”

George looked embarrassed. Or perhaps he was shocked that she did not bow and wait until she was spoken to.

King Frederick, if that was indeed him, put his sunglasses back on. He was completely unfazed by the lack of manners. “Sure. Off we go. We’ll be back at eight.”

At eight? Anna Margaret did her best not to cry out in protest. That was two hours from now!

She followed the men out of the house, down a short slope onto the beach. Apparently it would be just the four of them. They set out in a slow jog. “Are you really going for two hours?” she asked, trying not to pant already. Having balls had very little to do with managing to run for two hours.

“Usually, yes.”

“You can go as far as you usually go and pick me up on your way back,” she suggested.

“Now that would be dangerous,” said His Majesty. “Leave you alone? All the things that might happen.”

She glanced over the empty beach. “Right. The worst is that I might sit down.”

“Exactly!”

Or were other things likely to happen? “Are you fellows armed?”

“Yes,” said two of them simultaneously. They did indeed have bulges in the back of their shirt.

“Not that it would help,” said their charge cheerfully. “But it’s the idea that counts.”

Occasionally the two men in front exchanged some words she could not overhear, but the bodyguard beside her was pretty silent. She was sure they kept their pace down for her sake and she had a good view of their backsides. At the end of the beach there was a high cliff closing in the small bay. She supposed they would turn there.

Arriving there, however, the men stopped. She was glad for the break and rested against a rock. The others, however, did no such thing. One placed his feet on a small elevation and did push-ups. She had to cede her rock to one who wanted to jump onto it – repeatedly. Anna Margaret lay down on the sand and watched. Although they made her feel lazy, they were agreeable to watch.

“Do you do this every day or is this a special performance?” she inquired at some point.

“Both. We have to keep busy. You don’t seem ready to run back yet, though for a politician your fitness isn’t half bad.”

“But I could lose a few pounds.” It still stung, even if he was probably right. She regarded her legs in the running tights. They did not look too bad, did they?

“I only meant running wouldn’t do you any harm.” That was really not an improvement on his earlier statement.

“Well, anyway, don’t run behind me on the way back. I don’t think I’d be comfortable being watched from behind. How long will you be staying here?” She would offer to walk on ahead, but only if they were not looking.

“Not long. We still have to run to the other side of the beach,” he said between sit-ups.

“Is this a holiday or a training camp?”

“A training camp is a holiday.”

“But when do you party?”

“Don’t you mean, when do you have time to impregnate all those women?”

She could not see his eyes. They were well hidden behind his sunglasses and she could not tell if he was serious. She gave a little nod.

“I don’t. As you see, I always have two spectators, so I’d rather not. Are you staying for tennis?”

“Tennis? After two hours on the beach, you’re going to play tennis?” He was either completely mad or he was provoking her. It was not the first time she had that idea.

“First we’ll have breakfast.”

Anna Margaret eyed the distant other end of the beach. If she had gone all the way there and back, she doubted she could still play tennis. She might not be able to stand up. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“Well, I don’t manage this at home, no. They have me cut far too many ribbons for me to squeeze in more than two workouts a day.” He got to his feet and joined one of the bodyguards who was doing some exercises a little distance away.

She could not hear what they were saying. Maybe they were discussing the way back, or the tennis game, or breakfast. Or, more likely, the exercise they were doing. She got up as well and slowly stretched her limbs. Although she tried to exercise once a day at home, there were days that she did not manage at all. She certainly did not run every day and never on a beach. Since the men were focused on their exercises, she decided they would not watch her backside and she could easily get a head start walking back. She did not want to give up too quickly, but she really did not know if she could run to the other end and then back to the middle.

As she walked, she went over what she would tell Parliament on Monday. King Frederick denied any involvement, he was willing to do a paternity test and she believed he was speaking the truth. Did she? He had been confident that he had had nothing to do with it, so she would have to go with that.

Surely he had not staged this morning run to show her he never had time for women? She glanced over her shoulder. He looked too fit to have staged a run. He would be doing this often. Still, he could have done with other women as he had done with her. He could have taken them running.

And then hidden behind a rock with them while his bodyguards were doing push-ups.

She had flown to Italy energised by irritation and determination. There was not much left of either. She began to feel embarrassed about coming here. “What on earth am I doing here?” she muttered to herself. Was it even professional to parade around in tight trousers? Could she not simply have phoned? Now that she had her answers, she ought to go.

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The run, which she completed because she had balls, was killing, and the few steps back up to the garden seemed an insurmountable hurdle. One of the bodyguards had to give her a hand. The other had run ahead. By the time they caught up with him he had showered under one of the two open showers by the poolside and he had a towel around his waist.

Anna Margaret watched in dismay as His Majesty took off his shirt. “Wait!” she said, pointing from him to the shower questioningly.

“No, it’s not heated,” he responded.

“That was not what I wanted to ask.”

He stuck his fingers behind the waistband of his running tights and moved it down a fraction.

“Stop!” she ordered. “You’re implying everyone is to shower here in plain view?”

“Everyone is covered in sand and sweat. And the cleaning lady has forbidden us to go into the house like that.”

“I’d prefer a private shower with hot water,” she said, pressing her lips together. The cleaning lady ran the place? How ridiculous.

“You can only have that at night. But if you go last, it will be very private, because we’ll be at the breakfast table already.”

The other bodyguard had continued to undress and was now stepping under the shower. Defeated, she sat down and looked the other way, checking if the shower was visible from the cliffs or the beach. It did not appear to be, which was a small relief. No paparazzi could see her. When there were no more sounds, she turned around. All men were gone. There was a pile of clothes and towels and a row of shoes. She was not sure what they had changed into. Someone had left her bag with clean clothes there, however, but no one was in sight.

She hated cold showers and she hated being spied on, so she was extremely quick to wrap a towel around her body after splashing a little water on herself. When she was finally dressed she went in search of the breakfast table. It was outside, just around the corner. It was tracksuit time again, she noticed, and she was definitely overdressed. Then again, she was here for work purposes, sort of, and they were not.

There were newspapers on the table, but most were engrossed in their mobile phones. King Frederick was squinting at a tablet he held at arm’s length. When he put it down she saw he was reading an online newspaper. He got up and disappeared.

She took the liberty of eating something. Although the men had reached the table before her, they had not waited and they must have started long before her, but they were still eating. After the long run she quite understood their hunger.

His Majesty returned with his glasses. She supposed he usually wore lenses during his public appearances. Either that, or he never had to read much then. No, wait. He did not wear glasses during their meetings and he had to read then. Or was he always on the verge of indifference because he simply could not read whatever document was in front of him? No. He did not appear to be vain.

“When is your flight?” he inquired.

“Tomorrow.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You must have been expecting a lot of trouble here then.”

“No, all flights today were fully booked. Although,” she added, “I did work in a sort of margin, because I didn’t know how accessible or amenable you’d be.” And indeed, nothing like a mini-break to Italy with nice spring weather and no laptop.

“Accessible.” He spoke the word as if it was very strange.

“Well, you might have partied and not been available until late afternoon,” she explained. “Which would be a little problematic if my flight left in the morning. Or you might not be willing to see me immediately.”

He sighed and helped himself to two more rolls. He did not speak until after he had cut them open. “Usually prime ministers do not fly over for mere trifles, I should think, although I don’t have any experience with them visiting me outside office hours. But the taxpayer would think it a waste of money. Or the opposition would think the taxpayer would think it a waste of money.”

“I’m sure I more than made up for it by taking a cold shower. But I paid for the tickets myself.”

“So if the prime minister appears, it’s fairly logical to assume the matter is serious,” he continued.

“Which still doesn’t mean you’d care.”

“I might still think it could wait,” he agreed. “Although some people let one get away with that and some don’t. In itself, the matter isn’t particularly serious, but your taking it very seriously makes it so.”

“It is quite serious. In itself.”

“As you wish.” He began to eat. “Does your father know you’re here?”

Her father had been a politician in his days. Of course she would never have got this far if she had not been his daughter, but he did not pull her strings and she did not inform him of everything. He had a tendency to think his days were not yet over. And other people had a tendency to think he still ran the show, which was rather aggravating. “Oh, he would like to know, I’m sure. Which is why I don’t tell him these things.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “I had already deduced this was not his idea.”

“Why is that?”

“I got the impression, in the past, that my father and your father had quite different notions of what was acceptable. For people like me. I’m not saying your father also applied these standards to himself – I don’t know about that – but he would definitely not say anything to others.”

She was not prepared to discuss her father in great detail in front of the bodyguards, so she did not give him a reply. He was probably right, when she thought about it. Her father had said he wished the king was more discreet, when her opinion was that he had to give it up altogether. Whatever it was.