Nick closed his eyes. “This is going to be hard.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But if we both back away, and then you realize you’re ready for him again, he might be too far gone for either of us.”
“You’re keeping my foot in the door, as it were,” he said.
“However you want to look at it.”
Nick stroked my cheek with his gloves. His fingers caught a strand of my hair, which became electrified with static.
“We always do have sparks,” he said teasingly.
A remote control landed hard in my lap. I emerged from my reverie to see Eleanor looking impatiently at me.
“Find something on TV that isn’t awful,” she said. “Richard made me watch a highlight reel of things I’d missed in Parliament. Can you imagine the torture?”
“I mean, you did tell him to fuck off,” I said.
“Language, Rebecca,” Eleanor said, horrified.
I clapped my hand over my mouth.
“Ah. I see your sense of humor fucked off with him,” she said.
I burst out laughing. “I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m so off-kilter.”
“I’m getting a little revenge for those things you did while I was in my semi-coma,” she said.
“Do you remember any of that?”
“I was vaguely aware of people coming and going, and I heard snippets of words here and there, but it was very dreamlike, and surreal,” she said. “I do recall you stomping around talking about your sports team, but then your hair caught on fire, which I assume I hallucinated.” She frowned. “It was a strange state to be in, and now, I can’t feel that passage of time anymore. It’s as if I just blinked.”
“We felt every day of it,” I said. “Richard did you proud, but the public missed you.”
“Did he enjoy having my job?”
Richard’s face the night of the state dinner flashed into my mind. He was glowing, glad-handing dignitaries, deeply pleased with himself. “He wasn’t happy about the reason for his regency,” I hedged.
“He came in here with a whole list of accomplishments, to suggest that perhaps he should remain in the position while I am rehabbing,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “He’s probably right but I sent him packing anyway. He was very cross.” And then she winked at me, not without some effort. I started flipping through the channels to avoid reacting.
“Stop there,” Eleanor said, when I landed on Entertainment Tonight. “I have a bad feeling about Brad and Angelina. Although they did send me beautiful flowers.” She waved at a tremendous bouquet of out-of-season peonies. “Now. There’s something we need to discuss.”
“Oh yes, about that,” I said. “Nick and Freddie are—”
“Rebecca, if you don’t have that under some semblance of control by now, please keep me in divine ignorance of your failure,” Eleanor said. “This is important. This is about me.” She put her hands to her chest. “I have cheated death.”
Next to her, Marta grunted.
“Cheated death,” Eleanor repeated, “and now I’d like to have more of a life. I intend to have fun.”
We looked at each other. The longer she said nothing, the more certain I was that being Eleanor’s official purveyor of post-near-death fun was about to become my full-time job.
“Well?” Eleanor prodded. “Where do we start?”
Everything that popped into my mind was inappropriate for an ailing octogenarian—beer pong, bungee jumping, skinny-dipping in the Buckingham Palace pool (though I tucked that one away for me and Nick).
“Have you ever been to McDonald’s?” I heard myself ask instead.
Marta made a not bloody likely noise, and Eleanor said, “Something inside the palace, for now. Something reckless but simple. Perhaps I shall order a crumpet untoasted.”
“Careful, don’t sprain anything,” I said.
She balled up the sheets in her left hand. “I don’t hear any better ideas from you.”
“How about…a margarita?” I asked. “Have you ever had one of those? Are you even allowed to right now?”
“I have not, and I do as I please,” Eleanor said. She tapped her chin. “I should also like to buy clothing on the internet. Things I don’t need, seasonally inappropriate, and very unlikely to fit properly. Mummy, I expect you’re writing this down.”
Another noise from Marta. I translated it correctly and took out my phone and opened up a new note.
“And you can show me a baseball match,” Eleanor continued. “You natter on about it so much, I should see what the fuss is about.”
“It’s the off-season right now,” I said. “But I can teach you how the game works, so that once they start up again, you’ll be ready to go.”
“Good. That will entertain me during the interminable physical therapy for this,” Eleanor said, casting a disdainful look at her arm.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” I said, “why me? I always felt like…more of a thorn in your side.”
“Too right,” Marta said.
“Because other than my mother, you’re the only member of this family who has ever cursed regularly in my presence, which means you are capable of speaking to me like a human,” Eleanor said.
I gazed at her in wonderment. Her hair was a mess. She wore no lipstick, nor a giant fancy brooch chosen for maximum intimidation. She had a pillow mark on her cheek from her earlier nap. Before my eyes, she had begun morphing from Her Majesty the Queen, my most terrifying opponent, into…my grandmother-in-law.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I didn’t fuck off,” I said.
* * *
I left the palace upbeat. It was as if Georgina—at least, the way I liked to imagine her—had gotten bored in the Great Beyond and resurrected herself through Eleanor. I was still giggling when I arrived at Marj’s office at Clarence House, to Nick’s bemusement.
“Your grandmother,” I said, dropping into a chair, “apparently wants to have fun.”
He was nonplussed. “What does fun mean to her exactly?” he asked. “Are we talking medieval torture, or Parcheesi, or…”
“She wants me to teach her baseball,” I said.
“To play?” he
