Untitled ~ 17

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Chapter Seventeen

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The next time she woke, the alarm clock said 2:42 and she stumbled out of bed to find a bathroom. Fortunately someone with foresight had left the bathroom door open and the faint light coming in from the window showed her all she needed to see.

Only when she got back did she notice there was someone in the bed with her. She guessed it was Frederick, since he would not have left her in someone else’s bed. She was too sleepy to mind. He gave her a questioning rub and she gave him a rub back, not inclined to speak in the middle of the night. She left her hand in his, to indicate she did not mind being there.

She fell asleep after wondering why he had taken her to his own room and why she had not realised that this was in fact his own room. As far as she recalled it was bare and devoid of personal touches, but she had been focused on her stomach too much to wonder where he had taken her.

In the morning she was shocked to see 11:12 on the clock. There was no one with her anymore. Frederick had left without waking her. Evidently she had needed the sleep. But where would people think she was? They might think she had gone missing.

Where was her phone? She swung her legs out of bed, pleased to note only a small degree of queasiness now. But her clothes were gone. She remembered vomiting on them and Frederick taking them away. But where to?

She peered around in the room, but it was still as bare as the night before. The spot where she had vomited was clean. At any rate she could not see where it had been. She now spotted closets and a look in them revealed they held clothes. He must have taken a t-shirt from there, because she was now wearing one.

Her clothes were not in the bathroom either. She looked around for a bit and rinsed her mouth with toothpaste. Then she went on to the other rooms. Surely he did not think she would leave in her underwear? Two other rooms were practically empty. Then she found a sort of laundry room. It held a washing machine and a dryer, at any rate. There were things on top of the dryer and she checked them. Yes, some sports clothes, her clothes and two towels. That was nice, although the fact that he had a washing machine and knew how to use it was mind-boggling.

She returned to the bathroom and contemplated taking a shower. Then she remembered her phone and needing to report sick. Where had he left it? It had been in a pocket of her jacket, but that had been hanging over a chair when she had been taken inside.

She walked to a window to see if she could see the terrace. No. She could not see if her jacket was still outside. There was also no landline in any of the rooms on this floor. But then, if she had been reported missing, another half hour would not matter at this time of the day. She would rather shower first and get dressed, than go downstairs in her underwear. Who knew who might be there. There had to be staff down there, because there was no one up here.

Washed and dressed, she descended the stairs with extreme caution. This was not simply the Palace, this was the king’s private apartment. Well, she guessed it was anyway. She practised what she would say if she ran into someone. Hello. Without any explanations. Perhaps she could also ask for food, depending on how friendly she was being treated.

Downstairs, however, there was no one and looking into the kitchen made her realise she was starving. She had not had a proper meal since yesterday’s brunch. Make that yesterday’s breakfast, since the brunch could not exactly count as a proper meal.

Her jacket turned out to be in the kitchen, slung over a chair, the phone on the table – with a note. Called George and said you were ill, x F.

She sat down and read it again. He had called George. What had he said? Had he said who he was? He had called George! Frederick had called to say she was ill.

She called George too.

“Is that you?” George asked warily.

“Yes, it’s me. I’ve just got up.” She hoped he would now say he had already been called that morning, and by whom.

“Someone phoned me. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping it was a genuine call this morning.” He sounded relieved. “And not someone who’d kidnapped you. He was using your phone and said he would not take a picture of you sleeping, because you wouldn’t want that.”

“Quite right! The places such a picture could go! I was really asleep. I’ve only just found out that he called you.” And she guessed from what George had said that Frederick had not identified himself. What had George been thinking about that, a strange man reporting the prime minister ill? But she did not dare to ask. “I’ll just have something to eat and then I’ll come to the office.”

“How long will that take?”

She looked at the kitchen cupboards. There might not be anything in there. If they were just for show, she would have to get some food elsewhere. She had best not give George too early a time or he would fret. “In an hour.”

Then she got up and examined the fridge. Surprisingly it contained food.

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Just when she had finished a quick lunch, there were sounds outside the kitchen. She stepped out. Frederick was just coming into the hall. She smiled at him, even though he was in a suit and his hair combed in that completely old-fashioned way.

“Hi,” he said, loosening his tie. “I had to go somewhere and now I have to be somewhere else in an hour, but fortunately it’s just across the courtyard. I’m going to eat something.”

“You have food in your kitchen.” She was still in awe. Would he also know what to do with it? There was no one here to do it for him.

“Yes.”

“Do you go shopping?”

“Sort of. I have it delivered. How are you feeling?”

“I feel better. I just woke up. Before dressing and showering. You washed my clothes.” She did not know what was more unbelievable, that he had washed her clothes or that he bought his own food. It was probably too silly to say she wanted him for it. The hair could be messed up. It did not hold her back.

“I put it in the washing machine,” he corrected. He took her back into the kitchen.

“Yes, but…” Anna Margaret leant against the kitchen table, but he was still holding her arm. She might otherwise have fallen backwards. “It’s so…”

He raised his eyebrows. “…easy?”

“I didn’t know you’d live normally.”

“I didn’t always live normally. You should see the apartments across the courtyard. I spent years arguing my way out,” he said as she wrapped her arms around him. “I have a meeting about my abdication speech in less than an hour.”

She could tell he was worried about that in some way and not because he might not have time to do something else with her. He certainly did not seem inclined to cuddle, although he was not pushing her away. “What’s the problem?”

“How do I not come across as a failure? I’m not writing the speech, mind you, but I just can’t imagine they could make anything of it.”

“Just…wait. Who knows, they might have written something really good. Why don’t you write it yourself?”

He smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “It would be rather short if I did. See, I would leave out all the lines about how grateful I was to have been able to serve my people. I just know there will be some of that in there, but I don’t know if I could read that out loud without feeling an utter fraud. I don’t feel the least bit grateful.”

She smiled. “You’d prefer something like: I’m fed up. My sister’s taking over. Bye?”

“Yes.” He removed her arms from around his waist and gently set her down in a chair. “I need to make some lunch. But you’ll understand that I won’t be able to say anything like that. I’m expected to say something deep and literary.”

Anna Margaret watched thoughtfully as he set some food on the table for his lunch. “What if it isn’t deep and literary?”

“People will criticise it.”

“They’ll do that anyway. Can’t you just say how you really feel?”

“No, that would be considered selfish and shallow.” He sat down. “It’s difficult to succeed my father. He was popular. He could do this.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “He might have been a good king, but he was a worthless father, I’m beginning to think. Should I come with you? Think of the good things you’ve experienced. I’m sure there were some.”

He moaned.

“What does that mean?”

“The good things I’ve experienced lately are all things I cannot possibly mention. Most of them involve you in either inappropriate clothing or inappropriate positions. Not that anyone would believe there was actual clothing involved at all times. I’m stuck.”

“I need to come with you. If I don’t come with you, I’ll be writing your speech in my head all afternoon,” she decided. Since she would then not be able to concentrate on anything else, she might as well devote half an hour to overseeing the actual process. It would not be a waste of time.

Frederick looked worried. “But what would they think? They might find out you spent the night here.”

“Yes, so? You were the lucky man whose floor I vomited on.” If anyone mentioned the night, she was sure to make that absolutely clear.

“I didn’t know you’d fall asleep and stay asleep. I thought you could stay there for a bit until your clothes had been washed and –”

“And then you suddenly had a guest.”

“I came back half an hour later and you were asleep.”

“Sorry.” She imagined he might have been at a loss. Or maybe not. He did not sound as if he had been. He seemed to have happily taken it in stride, because he even managed a smile. It was a little strained still – blast that speech.

“And then when your clothes came out of the dryer you were still asleep!”

“Sorry. You have a very comfortable bed. And I wasn’t cold, because you dressed me up in some sort of shirt.”

“I hope you didn’t mind my undressing you.”

“It would be ridiculous if I did. I only wish I’d been aware of it. By the way, I hadn’t expected you to own a washing machine either.” Perhaps she had expected his laundry to be collected.

“You probably expected a different sort of room as well.”

“Yes. It’s all so modern.”

“I’m fairly modern.”

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She had called George from the hall to say she would be later. Then she had met the housekeeper, who could not hide her surprise at seeing a visitor. Anna Margaret showed her where she had vomited, as far as she remembered, while Frederick remained out of sight. He was probably afraid to own up to having a girlfriend, she thought, and she let him be. Besides, what could he add?

“He seems to have cleaned it,” she said. “But I don’t know how.” She figured that being nice to the housekeeper might have some benefits in the future. Perhaps the woman was then less likely to gossip about whom she had found in the King’s private apartments.

“No problem,” said the housekeeper, who did not ask when or why she had vomited upstairs in the bedroom, of all places. “I’ll mop the floor today. Is His Majesty here?”

“In the kitchen.” It was still a ridiculously abnormal place for him to be, she thought. She could hardly say it without sounding incredulous.

“All right. I’ll see to it.”

Anna Margaret returned downstairs. “I met the housekeeper.”

“I heard.”

“You stayed in hiding.”

There was a small smile. “Yes.”

“She’ll clean your floor upstairs and the toilet.” And, she supposed, the housekeeper would do the dishes, since he piled them up.

“You could also not have told her.”

“I suppose. Sometimes it’s better to be friendly than to be secretive, though.”

He was not sure. But then, he was worrying about his speech. “She’s cleaning, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Come here. I haven’t even greeted you properly yet.”

The fact that the housekeeper knocked on an open door told Anna Margaret she had seen enough. She was nearly as embarrassed as Frederick, but since he could only look at the floor, she had to be the one to see if the housekeeper required anything from them or not. She felt sorry for him. Just when he dared to do something, he got caught. The poor thing.