Terry Dempsey, the BBC journalist who’d been tapped for this, greeted Freddie with a firm handshake and then tugged down the tail of his suit jacket so he could sit on it. “Saw it in a movie once,” he said sheepishly. “Keeps the shoulders from rising up on me.”
This was meant to break the tension, and Freddie smiled, but I could see his foot tapping anxiously against the leg of the chair.
Terry opened with a softball about Freddie’s prior military career, which let him ease into the approved explanation for his decision to enter a war zone: a desire for service, a sense that he’d never reached his fullest potential in the military, and absolutely zero mention of the family feud that had made him feel so adrift in the first place.
“But surely that didn’t require such a perilous posting,” Terry said.
Freddie nodded. “What mattered most was that my cohorts knew I wasn’t out to be a tourist within the military, ticking off a box. I wanted something where I’d be constantly required and inspired to prove my dedication. You might recall, I’ve not been particularly dutiful thus far in my life.” Terry chuckled obligingly. “To make an impact, and put to rest any questions, I needed a place where anything less than full throttle wouldn’t be acceptable.”
“And what did you learn, do you think?” Terry asked. “What was the gift of this experience?”
“Gift?” Nick hissed incredulously. “It’s not a birthday treat.”
Freddie held his face impassive, but I could tell from his tapping toes that it required effort. “It is impossible to come out of the service without a sense of perspective,” he said. “One can always do more with what one is given. I’ve gained an even greater respect for people like my grandmother, my father, and my brother, who’ve understood better than I the way a life of good fortune must be shaped by a proper sense of duty.”
“But why the cloak-and-dagger approach?” Terry asked. “Why simply vanish?”
“Officially it was out of concern that I’d be a target, but for me, it was the threat I might pose to the other soldiers,” Freddie said. “Their work thrives on secrecy. I would have shouted it from the London rooftops, but the attention could’ve put their lives in even greater danger.”
“And it was dangerous,” Terry said. “I’m told you saw quite a bit of action, and that it’s the reason for your arm being in a sling.”
Freddie gulped. On the monitors, he simply looked serious, but we could see his left hand gripping his knee. Next to me, Nick frowned.
“I can’t give specifics, Terry,” Freddie said.
“You were injured,” he pressed. “It’s very brave to risk yourself like that.”
“No. Courage isn’t what I did,” Freddie said. His hand migrated from his knee to rub at the seat of his chair. “Courage isn’t trying to find purpose in a short burst of service. It’s giving your life to it, however long that life might be. I saw several of those lives cut short, and the tragedy of it will never leave me.”
He was fighting to keep his voice even. Nick tensed up. “I don’t like this,” he said in a low voice.
Terry jumped back in: “Did you ever wonder if you’d make it home yourself?”
Freddie’s fidgeting increased, to where it was visible even on the monitor. “Many of my friends didn’t come home. Many more yet might not.”
“You were afraid,” Terry said.
“There were times…” Freddie began, and then shook his head. “What I mean to say is, you can’t imagine how, particularly at night, when you hear…” His face looked in danger of crumpling altogether. He bit his lip and turned his face away, his shoulders beginning to shake.
Nick stepped forward. “That’s enough,” he called out, then clapped his hands authoritatively. “Thank you so much for coming out, but I’m afraid that’s all we can do for you today.”
I’m not sure who in the room looked the most surprised. Terry swiveled and stood, his hands on his hips. His head bounced from Nick to Bea, whom he clearly felt more comfortable confronting, because he directed his complaint to her: “With all due respect, I was told we’d have twenty minutes and it’s been a fraction of that.”
“We’ve had a scheduling change,” Bea improvised, crossing the room, then taking Terry’s arm and guiding him toward the room’s exit on the opposite side. She waved the cameraman and the sound guy out the door after him. “You’ve certainly got enough at this point. We’ll have your gear packed up in a flash, and naturally we’ll supply you with a lengthy exclusive statement from the prince that can give a fullness to your piece…”
The door closed behind them. Across the room, I saw Daphne pull a pack of tissues from her purse and head toward Freddie. But she didn’t get there first. It was Nick who reached his brother, Nick who put a hand on his shoulder, Nick who pulled a ragged Freddie to his feet and wrapped him in a hug. Freddie’s head collapsed on Nick’s shoulder, and he let out a wrenching sob.
My heart seized.
“Come on,” I whispered, gesturing for everyone else to hit the door. “Leave them be.”
Daphne cast the brothers one more look, then nodded and squeezed past me. Richard lingered at the door, watching.
“You could stay, sir,” I said delicately. “You have a place there, too.”
Richard thought for a moment and then looked down at me. “No. I don’t think I do,” he said. “This moment is for them. Let them have it.”
He turned on his heel and left. My hand on the knob, I glanced
