‘They’re by the pool, Your Highness.’ It was the maid who normally brought in his coffee and, to his astonishment, she smiled as she bobbed her normal curtsy. ‘It’s so good to have him back sir. There’s refreshments being served now. If you’d like to have your lunch with them…’
Bemused, he strolled out the vast palace doors into the gardens overlooking the sea.
There was a party happening by the pool, and the perfection of the scene before him was marred. Or not marred, he corrected himself. Just changed.
The landscape to the sea had been moulded to create a series of rock pools and waterfalls tumbling down towards the sea. Shade umbrellas and luxurious cream beach loungers were discreetly placed among semi-tropical foliage, blending unobtrusively into the magical garden setting.
Now, however… At the biggest rock pool chairs and tables had been hauled forward to make a circle. There were balloons attached around every umbrella. This wasn’t tasteful at all, he thought with wry amusement. The balloons were all colours and sizes, as though some had been blown up by men with good lungs, and some had been blown up by a five-year-old. They were attached to the umbrellas by red ribbons, with vast crimson bows under each bunch.
And there were sea dragons floating in the rock pool. Huge plastic sea dragons, red, green and pink, with sparkly tiaras. Sea dragons with tiaras? What on earth…?
Jenny was in the water, and so was Philippe and so was…Sofia? They were on a sea dragon apiece, kicking their way across the water, seemingly racing. Sofia was wearing neck to knee swimmers and she was winning, whooping her elderly lungs out with excitement.
There was more, he thought, stunned. Senor Rodriguez was sitting by the edge of the pool, wearing shorts, his skinny frame a testament to a life spent at his desk. He was cheering Sofia at full roar. As were Consuela and Ernesto, yelling their lungs out for their foster son. ‘Go, Philippe, go!’
There were also servants, all in their ridiculous uniforms, but each of them was yelling as loudly as everyone else. And another woman was cheering too, a woman who looked vaguely familiar. And then he recognised her. Perpetua. Carlos’s wife! What the…?
He didn’t have time to take it all in. Sofia reached the wall by a full length of sea dragon. Philippe came second and Jenny fell off her dragon from laughing.
It felt crazy. It was a palace transformed into something else entirely. He watched as Philippe turned anxiously to find Jenny. She surfaced, still laughing, she hugged him and his heart twisted and he forgot about everything, everyone else.
She saw him. She waved and then staggered-holding Philippe with one arm was a skill yet to be mastered. ‘Welcome to our pool party, Your Highness,’ she called. ‘Have you come to try our sausage rolls?’
‘Sausage rolls,’ he said faintly, and looked at the table where there was enough food for a small army.
‘Your chefs have never heard of sausage rolls,’ she said, clambering up the pool steps with Philippe in her arms and grinning as Sofia staggered out as well, still clutching her sea dragon. ‘Philippe and I had to teach them. And we have fairy bread and lamingtons, and tacos and tortillas and strawberries and eclairs-and I love this place. Philippe does too, don’t you Philippe? We’ve decided it’s the best place to visit in the world.’
Visit. He stood and watched as woman and child disappeared under vast towels and he thought…
‘Oh, and we invited Perpetua,’ Jenny said from under her towel, motioning in the general direction of the pallid little lady standing uncertainly under the nearest umbrella. Perpetua gave him a shy, scared smile. ‘You know Carlos’s wife? And Carlos, too.’
‘And Carlos, too?’ he demanded. Perpetua’s smile slipped.
‘I told him to come,’ she whispered. ‘When Gianetta invited us. He said he would. He just has to…he’s been making silly threats that he doesn’t mean. He wants to apologise.’ Her voice was almost pleading. ‘He’d never hurt…’
And maybe he wouldn’t, Ramon thought. For Carlos was approaching them now, escorted by palace footmen. The footmen were walking really close. Really close.
‘He’s not going to hurt anyone,’ Perpetua whispered. ‘He’s just been silly. I was so pleased when Gianetta rang. He needs a chance to explain.’
‘Explain what?’ Ramon said and Perpetua fell silent, waiting for Carlos himself to answer.
Ramon’s gaze flew to Jenny. She met his gaze full on. She’d set this up, he thought.
One of the maids had taken over rubbing Philippe dry. The maid was laughing and scolding, making Philippe smile back. She was a servant he’d thought lacked emotion.
Had the servants turned to ice through mistreatment and fear?
What else had fear done?
He looked again at Carlos, a big, stupid man who for a few short weeks, while Ramon couldn’t be found, had thought the throne was his. For the dream to be snatched away must have shattered his world.
Maybe stupid threats could be treated as they deserved, Ramon thought, feeling suddenly extraordinarily light- headed. And if threats weren’t there…
‘We invited both Carlos and Perpetua,’ Jenny was saying. ‘Because of Philippe. Philippe says Perpetua’s always been nice to him.’
‘He’s a sweetheart,’ Perpetua said stoutly, becoming braver. ‘I worried about him whenever I stayed here.’
‘You used to stay in the palace?’ Ramon asked, surprised again. What had Senor Rodriguez told him? Perpetua was a nice enough woman, intelligent, trained as a grade school teacher, but always made to feel inferior to Carlos’s royal relatives.
‘A lot,’ Perpetua said, becoming braver. ‘Carlos liked being here. Philippe and I became friends, didn’t we, sweetheart. But then Carlos said some silly things.’ Her gaze met her husband’s. ‘I used to believe…well, I’m a royal wife and a royal wife stays silent. But Gianetta says that’s ridiculous. So I’m not staying silent any longer. You’re sorry, aren’t you, dear?’
Was he? Ramon watched Carlos, sweating slightly in a suit that was a bit too tight, struggling to come to terms with this new order, and he even felt a bit sorry for him.
‘I shouldn’t have said it,’ Carlos managed.
‘You said you’d kill…’
‘You know how it is.’ Carlos was almost pleading. ‘I mean…heat of the moment. I was only saying…you know, wild stuff. What I’d do if you didn’t look after the country…that sort of thing. It got blown up. You didn’t take it seriously. Please tell me you didn’t take it seriously.’
Was that it? Ramon thought, relief running through him in waves. History had created fear-not fear for himself but fear for family. His family.
A family he could now build. In time…
And with that thought came another. He wasn’t alone.
Delegation. Why not start now?
‘Perpetua, you used to be a grade teacher,’ he said, speaking slowly but thinking fast, thinking back to the meeting he’d just attended. ‘Do you know the conditions in our schools?’
‘Of course I do,’ Perpetua said, confused. ‘I mean, I haven’t taught for twenty years-Carlos doesn’t like me to- but I have friends who are still teachers. They have such a hard time…’
‘Tomorrow morning I’m meeting with a deputation to see what can be done about the overcrowding in our classrooms,’ he said. ‘Would you like to join us?’
‘Me?’ she gasped.
‘I need help,’ he said simply. ‘And Carlos… How can you help?’
There was stunned silence. Even Philippe, who was wrapped in a towel and was now wrapping himself around a sausage roll stopped mid-bite and stared. This man who’d made blustering threats to kill…
Jenny moved then, inconspicuously slipping to his side. She stood close and she took his hand, as if she realized just how big it was. Just how important this request was.
Defusing threats to create a future.
Refusing to stand alone for one moment longer.
‘I can’t…’ Carlos managed at last. ‘There’s nothing.’
