CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
His role had changed, Henry reflected. From being an indulgent uncle he had become someone far less likely to give the children ice cream should they ask for it. He still did not see them every day, but he had become aware of the fact that he should not be treating them every time he saw them. He turned to talk about it with the only other adult in the party, but she was gone and so was Mary.
John saw him look around. He pulled at Henry's hand that he had been holding all the time. "They went shopping," he said helpfully.
"Didn't you want to go with them?" Henry asked. He would have thought John would stay with Elizabeth, given the fact that he liked her very, very much. Instead, John had walked with him all the time.
"Boys don't like shopping," said John seriously. It had been tough for him to make the choice.
"No, that's right. We're going to do something much better -- have ice cream." He wondered if they should wait and looked back hesitantly. "Where did they go to?"
"Into a shop. Do we have to wait for them?"
One of Amanda's sons had a good suggestion. "Can't we just get our ice cream and if they come when we've finished it we can just say we've waited for them and then order a second round as if it were our first."
Henry laughed at the attempt. While uncles might try to get away with such a thing, it would be forbidden for fathers. "No, we I won't do that."
"They knew where we were going. If they had wanted ice cream they should have stayed with us." They were already pushing against the door of the tea room.
That was logic that could not be refuted. Henry glanced back one more time and nodded his assent. The boys barged into the ice cream place uttering wild and enthusiastic cries. Not really to his surprise they knew precisely which flavours were on offer and which ones were good.
"How many scoops? Three?"
"Not more than two." He foresaw a messy business with more than two scoops. "How do you all know what the best flavour is?" he asked, feigning curiosity. They probably came here regularly. The proximity of the school was probably one of the reasons why it was profitable to sell ice cream in the middle of winter.
"We've been here before!" cried one.
With his head spinning from confusing orders of pineapple and banana, banana and vanilla, chocolate and the green stuff, vanilla and chocolate, strawberry and perhaps chocolate or maybe vanilla, Henry advanced to the counter. He had already forgotten half the combinations. "John? What did you want again?"
"Lemon and purple."
Henry stared at him. "I could swear that you said something else before." In fact, he could even swear that John had been very determined about wanting chocolate and the green stuff -- pistachio.
"Yes, but I changed my mind."
"Why do I bother to remember your orders?" He shook his head. "The smallest one first. Just order it yourselves. I'll pay."
"Have you got any idea where they went?" Elizabeth asked when she and Mary were back in the local high street again.
"No."
They walked on until they ran into John, who had slipped out of the shop with his cone when Henry was trying handle the confusing business of ordering. "If you hurry Dad will pay for you as well," John called, dangerously waving his cone about.
Elizabeth winced. There would be tears if one or both scoops flew off. She relaxed when he kept his hand still to lick the ice. "That's very sweet of you, John, but I've got enough money to buy ice cream," she called back.
It had not occurred to her that other people might be listening until John cried "no, she's not!" at two passing girls who said something to him.
"What did they say to you?" asked Elizabeth when she and Mary had caught up with him.
"They said you were the Queen and that of course you had money."
Elizabeth glanced at Mary and raised her eyebrows. "But John…I am the Queen." He was supposed to know that. He had stayed at the palace. She had thought he was old enough to know what it meant.
"No-oh," he said irritably.
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"Because you're not. You are you."
"Me?" She glanced at Mary again. "Am I?"
"You are you," Mary agreed. She could not see Elizabeth as anything else.
"Not…?" They had even made her reluctant to name her title.
"No."
"Oh." It was probably a good thing, Elizabeth thought as she let John lead her to the tea room, to be judged solely on her personal merits, but it was still odd that they could only see her in one capacity -- the one that was most important to them. Although, if she recalled it correctly she had done exactly the same thing when she had been little, whereas her father had mainly seen himself in the capacity that had been of the least use to her.
The question then was how she viewed herself, but she did not really know. The way she viewed herself was always dependent on others and there were too many different groups of them.
Henry and one of Amanda's boys were discussing a painting that hung above them, while another one handed her Henry's wallet that lay on the table, automatically assuming that this was the only source of money in the family. She surprised the boy by putting a banknote into it and then giving it back to him. Then she used her own money to pay for the ice cream.
Henry had noticed her now, she saw when she turned back. She was awful. He could make her smile for no reason. One of his nephews transferred to the other table where David and a cousin were sitting and she wondered how spontaneous that move was. Perhaps Henry had asked him to make room for her. Nevertheless she was glad for the opportunity and sat down.
"John said you had gone shopping," he said.
"Oh! You didn't even miss me yourself!" she teased.
"I did," he protested.
The boy across the table laughed. "Wait till I tell Mum that you lied!"
"I would do lots of horrible things to you, Philip," Henry promised him.
"I thought you were his uncle and not his brother," Elizabeth said questioningly. "His mother is not your mother, is she?"
"Why don't you tell her that?" Henry suggested.
"The eldest brother or sister has to look out for the younger ones because they are stupid," said Philip with a grin. His cousin Mary grinned her wholehearted assent. They were both the eldest.
"John?" Henry looked for support. "We don't want older sisters to play our mothers, do we?"
John shook his head vehemently. "No! We hate them." He laughed as he said that and stuck out his tongue.
"You don't hate me!" Mary said in protest.
"You just said I was stupid."
"That was Philip!"
"You laughed at him. So I hate you. Na na na na nar!" He stuck out his tongue again before having swallowed all of the ice cream that was still on it.
Elizabeth began to be a little concerned about the discussion and she glanced at Henry, but he appeared perfectly unconcerned. She did not have any brothers or sisters, so she did not know whether this was normal behaviour for them. As long as Henry did not interfere it was probably alright if they said they hated each other.
Mary dropped one of her scoops as she was gesturing at John and tears of laughter ran down his face. He clung to Elizabeth so he would not fall over. "Oh, who's stupid now?" he croaked in a delighted voice, because he was usually the one who had this happening to him.
"Now, John," Elizabeth began, but he was laughing too hard to speak.
"I'm glad someone finds it funny," Mary said primly. "Do I have to remind you of the time when your ice cream disappeared down Auntie Simone's cleavage?" She and Philip both began to giggle. They remembered it all too well.
"Auntie Simone's cleavage?" Henry asked in an interested voice. He had never heard of that incident.
John made some strange sounds. "She tried to hug me and I threw a chocolate scoop right into her…er…thing." He patted his chest. "And then she screamed because it was cold. And Mary thinks it was an accident!" He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Haha! You're so stupid. I like chocolate ice cream. I wouldn't let it fall off. I don't like it if people hug me."
Elizabeth had been regarding him silently. He was a devious one alright. Now she spoke up. "I hugged you."
"That's different. You're not fat and old." John grinned and revelled in Mary and Philip's new respect for him. He could see they approved of doing such things to Auntie Simone.
Henry was pulling strange faces as he tried to imagine what had happened. He did not know whether to applaud or to reprimand John. Things ought to be easier for parents than this. He caught Elizabeth's bewildered look. She had to be wondering what sort of uncivilised family she had ended up in. He could reassure her on that score. "We're not as bad as you think." Actually, they were. Tom and he had once stood hiding behind a curtain for ten minutes, even though they knew very well there was no escaping Auntie Simone.
"I'm not so sure," she said incredulously.
John felt he had to correct some impressions. He wrapped his arms around her to show he did like hugging some people and he kissed her cheek. "I would never do it to you. I like you." He walked towards Henry and did the same. "And I like Henry." Then he walked to Mary and gave her a sort of half-hug. "Even Mary." Then he stared at Philip. "And Philip sometimes, but I don't hug boys."
"I wonder why some people at school think he can't talk," Philip remarked.
Elizabeth did not mind official engagements. It gave her some mental rest to see everyone behave so predictably. Whatever they were thinking, they did not voice it. They would never step out of their roles if she did not either. Her views were not likely to be tested, not in the same way as the children did. They forced her into constant re-evaluations of everything. This, on the other hand, was safe and easy.
Nevertheless, it made her think. During the school holidays she would not be able to accept so many invitations, because Henry could not be home every night. That was something she would from now on have to take into account. She could not stop herself from going down this little path.
Henry was at his flat sorting out things he might need. She was lucky that nobody dared to ask her why she had not brought him. She did not think she should take him everywhere. They had their respective jobs and it would all become a muddle if they did not keep that as separate as possible. People might see them as some sort of dictatorial duo if they were together too much, even though power and riches were not at all on their agendas.
Besides, her power was mostly informal. She could not make anyone do anything except Henry, ironically enough. People did not seem to realise that. While people had seemingly accepted their relationship, some could still not accept the incompatibility of their jobs and the conflict of interests.
Marriage had not changed their co-operation. As new issues arose she had to define her opinion on them, but her basic outlook on life never changed, unlike the Prime Minister's. They changed faces every four years and every new face came with new basics. The Queen was the constant factor in that whole game and the first period of a new PM was always spent checking him out. But since she had known Henry for two years, any cross-influencing would have had to take place already. It was a bit insulting to think that after getting married she would abandon all of her opinions in favour of his, or that he would take over hers. She valued and respected his perspective, but she was still quite capable of believing that Henry could speak utter rubbish. Nothing had changed.
Perhaps the only thing that had changed a little was that she had lost her reserve to speak to him about personal matters, but that was of course irrelevant to ruling the country. Those matters had been none of her business before and they were still nobody else's business. Only his family should be allowed to speak to Henry about them, just like only a selected group of people should be speaking to her about personal matters.
The national media did not belong to that group, although they appeared to think so. The reason that there were not many pictures of her and Henry together was not that they barely saw each other. It was only because they were too busy to do things together outside the home. She saw him every night and every morning, but nobody else was there to witness that. It was silly, though. After writing that he did not.spend the night at his flat, where and when did people think Henry slept? Surely they could conclude where he slept and given that they saw him during the day, surely they could also conclude he slept at night, like her, and that they must run into each other at some point in the bedroom.
Stupid assumptions tended to make Elizabeth rebellious. A few minutes before she had been grateful for people's reserve, but now she wished she could react to something. She had to give a little spark of life, a little mischievous wink. The press had declared that they made a pretty picture, but the first person had yet to say their characters were eminently suited. Famous couples were drawn together by lust or ambition, but never by love. Given the complete lack of pictures in which she misbehaved with Henry, lust could be ruled out as a motive and the only possible conclusion would be that it had been some kind of career move. She knew she was being too cynical, but there had to be a grain of truth in it somehow, otherwise she would not be thinking this.
It was duty and not interest that had made her go to this art exhibition. Still, it was alright to do so once in a while. She declined the offer of a glass of champagne when they were passed around. Somehow this was viewed as significant.
"The Prime Minister never drinks either," said someone.
Elizabeth looked a bit surprised. "He doesn't?" She would bet on having seen him drink wine and beer, but what did she know about the man? She was merely married to him, after all. Other people were far greater experts on him. She had come to realise that much.
"I've never seen him do it. He refused alcoholic drinks last week."
Elizabeth did not see what it had to do with her declining the champagne. It irritated her a bit. She nodded. "Oh, yes, I know why."
And then she did not elaborate on it, even though the other person was extremely curious. He tried to get it out of her anyway. "I think it's very commendable of him not to drink."
She smiled a rather condescending smile. "Indeed. It shows a great empathy with the understanding of the less fortunately endowed."
"I beg your pardon, Ma'am?" Her conversational partner was confused.
Elizabeth had fully intended to confuse him. Her smile stayed in place. "He tends to become a little too eloquent to be understood by all."
"Oh. Is that why he refrains from drinking?"
"It's why he refrains from drinking in the company of people who might not be able to keep up with him."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No. He generally doesn't explain himself when he thinks something is obvious," she said politely. And Henry could not have told her, because it was not true. In reality she had no idea why he refused to drink at parties. She was as capable as he was of speaking utter rubbish. But it was best to get away from the question why she was not drinking herself and Henry was still one of her favourite subjects. "He'd rather move on. Do you see what I mean? Isn't it in line with the current criticism about the fact that he should offer more explanations?"
"But most of that had to do with his marriage and the consequences on his functioning."
"I have no complaints about his functioning," she assured him with a saucy smile and was pleased to see the man retreat with a look of embarrassment. He did not know what to say to that. Good.
"Excellent," said a woman who had been listening. "It's funny that Lord Setchley made similar comments last week." The fashionable population was not large and they by necessity ran into each other quite often, what with the many social events there were.
"I hope he did not say he functioned well," Elizabeth said a little concernedly.
"No, Madam. He implied that you functioned well and I hope you don't mind my saying so, but he grinned quite…er…"
"Oh, you don't have to tell me," Elizabeth said in a low voice. "I know that grin." Even thinking about Henry's smile could make her grin from ear to ear as well. "What else did he say?"
"Literally?" the woman asked with raised eyebrows. That would be difficult.
Elizabeth chuckled. "I'll know what he means."
"He speaks as literally as you do, Madam. As soon as I heard you speak I figured you'd be able to understand him very well."
"Oh! I like you," Elizabeth said in delight. "You're the first person to whom it occurs that we might actually have brains." She looked at her new-found friend, a woman who looked to be a few years older than she was.
"I'm sure that becoming the PM would require some brains."
Elizabeth took her aside a little. "Very little, I assure you. I've had my doubts about some of the previous ones. Our current Prime Minister has more brains than he officially needs, hence his tendency to abuse them for mischievous purposes -- which I don't mind at all."
"But why am I the first person to whom it occurs that you might have brains?" the woman inquired curiously.
"Apart from people who know us, yes. Some have accepted that we might love each other, but they still don't understand that we talk to each other as well."
"Maybe that is because not many people have ever heard you speak. They cannot know you have brains if they've never heard you use them."
Elizabeth considered that. Perhaps she also had to get rid of the idea that official engagements were boring occasions that did not challenge her mentally. Perhaps it was simply her own fault for not speaking. "Well, that's true, I suppose. I don't speak a lot in public and I really only speak to people I know. I'm not counting the engineered conversations on neutral topics with people I don't know. I suppose not many people know me, but they all claim to know me anyway." It did not sit well with her. "And I can't react." It was simply not done to strike back.
"You don't have to say anything. I'm sure intelligent people can interpret your actions correctly."
Elizabeth gave her a wistful look. She was not so certain of that. "The only ones who give a direct evaluation on what I do are the ones I know and they also know me and why I did it. They're the ones that matter, but they don't write about me."
"In my circles -- also people who would not write about you, by the way -- people admired you for taking on the children."
"Well, they came attached to Henry." Elizabeth frowned. She could not have ignored them, so she was not sure she could take this as a compliment.
"And they attached themselves to you very quickly."
"Well…" she smiled uncertainly. "Yes, they might have. Did you read about that?"
"It's a small world," the woman smiled. "I was at Oakhurst for the anniversary."
"Oh." That really stunned Elizabeth, although she could never have known all the people who had attended. "So was I…"
"Yes, I saw you there. People did watch you, you know, even if you didn't notice. They always do. You gave those two girls a good day. They really enjoyed themselves. And he was so sweet to his niece when he showed up later…"
"He's always sweet," Elizabeth said proudly.
While he was sorting out his belongings in his official flat, Henry wondered how much time he had actually spent here. He did not appear to have collected very many things in two years, but that made the task easier. The flat had come furnished, so he could leave all the horrible furniture here for his successor. Perhaps the flat could be used for high guests in the meantime. There was never a shortage of high guests, it seemed, but not always enough adequate places to lodge them. The taxpayer's money would not be wasted if the flat should be used for such purposes. Henry brightened up at the idea. He had already been fearing censure, no matter how thoughtless it would be. He had never spent much time here, so not living here at all would hardly make a difference. Still, people looking to criticise him could always find something.
When he was finished he wondered if Elizabeth was also ready to leave her exhibition. She had to be -- she had never struck him as being particularly culturally or artistically inclined. He could not imagine her enjoying a lengthy stay at some exhibition. He had been to one last week, so he knew all about it and could imagine she would want to be rescued.
Perhaps he could drive past the gallery to see if she was still there and if she was, he could persuade her to come home. It was on his route anyway. Then he remembered she was likely to have a car herself. He would have to send his own home, in that case, because two was a bit much. He could walk there, but his chauffeur protested. After winning a little discussion about the benefits of exercise, Henry set out to walk the short distance. He could not take any of the clothes he had sorted out with him, but he could transfer them another day.
The gallery was guarded, naturally, but Henry was glad he was recognised and allowed entrance. The guards stepped aside automatically. "Oh, can anyone just enter like that?" he inquired innocently. "I thought the Queen was here."
That confused them and they gaped at him stupidly. "But…"
"You don't need to check me?" Henry asked before proceeding -- or laughing, whichever came first.
"Aren't you Lord Setchley?" one guard ventured. He was beginning to have doubts. It was dark, after all, and this man had come on foot. Perhaps he should be checked after all.
"I am."
"Then we don't have to check you."
"Thanks. You can leave it to her to find out that I'm me. She's good at that." He walked on into the gallery. People in fashionable clothes were drinking sophisticated drinks from shiny glasses and chatting. A new arrival in an overcoat attracted some curious stares, but after they recognised him it was more interesting to turn back to their little groups to gossip about him than to keep staring.
Ahh yes, he said to himself. Behold the man with a severe wife addiction. He would have liked to do this before they were married, but he had never managed to come up with a good excuse to crash a party that Elizabeth was attending, least of all because she might be surprised as well. She would not be surprised anymore. It would all make sense if she saw him now.
Elizabeth had managed to accidentally appear once. That was when he had really needed some intelligent support in a crowd of morons and he had not asked himself too many questions when she had unexpectedly come to relieve his suffering. She had been subtle about it and they had perhaps exchanged ten words, but his admiration for her had only increased. He should ask her some time if it had really been by accident, but he did not think so.
He saw her right away. She was listening to people, as he had expected her to be. Upon seeing him she turned away from the group with a brilliant smile, her eyes shining.
Henry had read the news faithfully. There were certain things he had not missed. He bowed slightly upon reaching the group surrounding Elizabeth and his eyes shone no less. "I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen, but I'd like a word with my wife, because this morning I read some very disturbing things about how little we see of each other."
Elizabeth stared back at him. He was crazy, but she loved him.
"Turn around," Henry gestured. "If you please, Madam, so I can see all of you."
She turned around obediently, wondering what else he was going to say.
"Thank you. I have now proved to the world that I saw you today. I may go home with a satisfied feeling now." He winked at her and walked away.
Elizabeth stood staring after him in amazement. She did not think he was really leaving, but she was not entirely sure that he would not wait in the hall or something like that. He was crazy enough to come here only to make silly comments. She hurried after him.
Henry knew she would do something and he was not surprised when he glanced over his shoulder. He halted. "Are you coming with me?" He feigned surprise.
Since she had not reached him yet when he spoke, he had raised his voice and other people had been able to hear him too. She would have to give some reply now. "This morning I read in the newspaper that we lived apart. Perhaps we should be a little more obvious."
"Yes Madam, let's focus on why you're chasing me hither," he said in an interested voice, his arms held wide to welcome her.
Elizabeth sighed. He was impossible. She stopped a few paces short of him to avoid his arms. "Pardon me, but by coming here you began to chase me first if I'm not mistaken."
"I am glad you perceive being chased as a good thing."
"I draw the line at being phoned in the middle of the night only to be told that you had spoken to people in German -- which you did a few months back."
"I wasn't chasing you. I needed to hear your voice."
"Sleepy and grumpy?" she mocked.
"Darling, you may be sleepy, but you're never grumpy."
In the morning they read that they were so inseparable that Henry even had to pick up his wife after her engagements. "Woohoo," Henry cheered immaturely. "They've changed their minds about us again. We go from one extreme to another -- from avoiding each other to being inseparable. How could anyone still believe what they write about us? I'm particularly amused by this phrase: he was able to charm his lady into going home with mere words. What else should I have used?" he asked Elizabeth when he could not imagine using force. "What do other men use when they want their lady to go home?"
"I don't know. They've never charmed me. Maybe they're not referring to going home, but to charming. You charmed me with mere words. How absolutely odd!" she said with a sarcastic smile.
"Shocking indeed, but how else could I charm you?" Henry wondered, but he gave her a sly glance.
Elizabeth did not react to sly glances across the breakfast table, although they would never go unnoticed. "Don't go off topic."
"You didn't hear me go off topic."
"No, but I saw you do it."
He reached across the table and touched her face. She was so perceptive.
"Don't say you have no other ways to charm me and then immediately use two of them!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She supposed he could use anything, because he was simply charming.
"Why, you're easily charmed!" he chuckled. "Still, the basis is words." He knew he would never have got anywhere with Elizabeth if he had not impressed her verbally at first.
Elizabeth would agree with that, but she still had the same question. "Why would people be surprised?"
"Because they're stupid and they need more words to reach the minimum number for their articles, so they just make things up."
"Why was I ever concerned about what people would think? Apparently it's just random!"
"Yes, just be concerned about me," Henry answered. "Let's just get that house and move in there when the children come home from school." They would have about four months to prepare and that should be enough. With their busy schedules they could not take much time off to work on the house anyway, so it had to be on the odd free day. "I suppose you'll need to buy furniture for the baby as well."
"Me?"
"Well, everything would be alright with me." He trusted her to pick out decent furniture.
"That's what you say now, but I'm sure that you'd disagree with my choice if I bought something," Elizabeth reasoned.
"I wouldn't!" Henry protested. But she might be right. "Alright…I'll come with you if it won't look too suspicious." She did not want anybody to know she was pregnant, but people might draw some conclusions if they saw them shopping for baby goods together. Well, they most certainly would, given the conclusions they drew on unimportant occasions.
"We're inseparable! You have to."
"By that time they might think we're avoiding each other again. You never know." He could not care less anymore what people wrote about them. His job seemed to be safe for the moment and his marriage was stable. He should be ignoring the outside world as much as he could and focusing on his family to prepare for child number four. By now he had enough experience to know that it would not be as easy as it seemed. It would not be a matter of merely giving it a bedroom and continuing his life as if nothing had happened.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
In the following months not much happened. Henry was repeatedly under fire, but Elizabeth stayed out of sight for the most part. This was mainly because she did not want anybody to know she was pregnant, but to some extent also because it was quite enough to have one of them criticised.
Her preference for wide clothes worked well to hide her growing figure and she did not really have to change her style. The advantage was that nobody expected anything and that the people she met most often already knew about it. The secret would not travel beyond those people.
There were hospitals that would have competed fiercely to host the birth had they known, but Elizabeth had made her own arrangements and everything was ready when the summer arrived.
Her mother had had a few operations and she had seen how many people were around in a hospital. And to be lying there having a baby was even worse. She wanted to be surrounded by people she knew and trusted, not by curious and useless people.
The circus that was bound to ensue around the birth was one of the reasons why she had not made her pregnancy known. Another was the fear that it might not go right. She had no reason to believe it would not, but it was better to stay safe.
In the last few weeks she had not taken on any engagements, because in the summer a bulge was rather more noticeable than in the winter when it could be hidden under a thick coat, no matter how small the bulge was.
Everything was ready. She had been waiting for ten days now. It was long past the date the doctor had given her. Henry had gone back to work because he had had to, but Elizabeth was certain he was expecting her to phone any minute. She expected having to call any minute herself, but the baby did not want to arrive. She could feel it now and then, but it appeared much too comfortable in there. If she had not felt it, she might have wondered if she was pregnant at all. In fact, Henry had jokingly said something to that effect, but she knew that had only been because he was worried.
She should take care, though, not to disturb Henry for every little stab of pain she imagined. He would get all excited and concerned over nothing.
What did the public know? They knew she had bought a new house in the countryside to be closer to the schools and that she had spent several weeks furnishing and decorating, but they certainly did not know how she had furnished them or why she had stayed out of sight. They knew some things from Henry's official residence had gone there as well.
Elizabeth, Amanda, Teddy and Henry's mother had worked on getting the house ready and shopping. Elizabeth had driven back and forth, except on the days that it was Henry's job to meet her. Those meetings absolutely had to take place as usual. She had tried to limit the others, for fear of betraying herself by walking like a duck, although Henry had assured her it was not that bad. He would say that, she thought, because he had once said he though it funny.
Everyone had had their say in what their room should look like, even Henry, although Elizabeth could tell from the impersonal look of his flat that he did not care much about what he lived in. He had probably not spent much time there, but she was sure he was going to spend much more time at his new home. He would only stay away if there was nothing to go home to.
Because the palace offered more privacy, she had chosen not to have the baby at the new house, though, which meant she had not been there for nearly two weeks now because she had been expecting it any minute. The children had just finished school and they were sulking about not living in the countryside yet. They had friends living in that neighbourhood and they had none here. It had been promised to them.
Fearing she would be driven crazy listening to John's pleas for another day, Elizabeth packed them all up and drove to the new house. The baby was not going to come anymore. Why would it come today of all days if it had not come on any of the preceding days? Elizabeth was close to giving up hope that it would ever decide to come out.
The children had just run out to play with a ball, when Elizabeth felt something. She sat down and considered calling Henry, but thinking of how long it sometimes took people to deliver a child she decided against it. She would be back home when things would get serious.
Unfortunately the baby was inconsiderate. Once it had really decided that it wanted out, it wanted out at once. Not an hour later Elizabeth was suddenly in serious pain. Nevertheless, she thought she could suffer a car trip back to the palace and she had chartered one of the security men to drive her car for her. The boys had to go with the other one. She would rather not have them see her like this. They might think she was dying.
Mary spent the entire drive twisted in her seat, looking back at Elizabeth anxiously. Elizabeth had called the midwife herself, but she had let Mary call Henry. Mary knew why. He would in all likeliness have forbidden Elizabeth to travel back if he had heard her struggle to control her voice. The midwife was on her way, so it was reassuring to know she would be there once Elizabeth got home. Even Henry had said he would come right away. There had been enough excitement in Mary's voice to know he should do that.
The security man was rather pale, fearing that Elizabeth was about to give birth and that he would have to play a role in that. "Hadn't I better take you to a hospital, Madam?" he asked. He wanted to drive fast, but he should also drive safely.
"No, home," Elizabeth grunted.
She was set on going home, even though she had to be helped up the stairs when she got there. Henry had already been clued in by the midwife about the seriousness of the situation, but he seemed not too anxious to tell the children to watch some television because Elizabeth was only having a baby. It came out of his mouth as if he was not concerned at all, but he was quick to go over to Elizabeth when she contorted her face at his words. He thought she was in terrible pain. "Is it coming?"
She patted his arm and gasped. "No, darling. I just want you to tell me the same thing. Tell me to go watch some television while I'm only having a baby. Tell me you'll call me when it's there."
"Why?" Henry was mystified.
"Because it makes me laugh." There was considerable humour in Henry telling the children she was only having a baby. Especially since his reassuring words reassured everyone but himself. He had unknowingly given her the confidence that there was really nothing more to it than that.
"You're laughing?" he cried, sounding rather betrayed. At this point it was impossible to see if she was convulsing with pain or laughter.
"Come here." Elizabeth took his hand. "I am only having a baby, after all. Thank you for reminding me. Now make me laugh some more." She would need that to really believe in what she was saying.
While Elizabeth had been doing the practical research, Henry had been checking what he would have to do once the baby was born -- registration, administration, information… He knew precisely which steps to take and which people to inform. Just in case he should forget, he had written it all down. When he showed his notes to her she convulsed again. He was so adorable.
Although she was in pain, Elizabeth looked relatively relaxed. She was comfortable with her surroundings and the people present, who were her mother, Teddy and the resident nurse, as well as Henry and the midwife. In the beginning she had been a little scared, but she felt it was going to be alright.
And it was.
Henry carried his small daughter to the press room. Right after the birth he had informed some court officials who had thankfully taken some matters out of his hands. Because there had not been any Royal babies for forty years, they had even dug up a retired old fellow who knew how things had gone after Elizabeth's birth, because it was quite an extraordinary happening.
Still, handling the press conference would come down to him, as the father. Linnie was too excited to go to sleep, but she was not fit enough to be here only a few hours after the birth. Maybe by taking the baby away from her she would finally fall asleep.
This was the first time in the rush following the birth that he felt aware of holding the baby. She was sleeping peacefully in his arms as if she trusted him to carry her anywhere. She was probably exhausted too. Everyone present in the palace had already stopped by for a glimpse. Henry did not know if she had been awake, but it would tire anyone even in their sleep to be on display and to hear a hundred different voices, not to mention being picked up repeatedly by parents who were being taught how to do that.
Henry had made sure he was early, so he would not be surprised by flashing cameras when he came in. He glanced at the bundle in his arms. She was so sweet right now. It was hard to imagine she could have been giving Linnie any trouble only hours before. He put her in the small crib they had prepared for her there behind the table. Then he sat down in the easy chair and waited for the press to fill the room. They had not been told why they had been summoned. He wondered if they had guessed. Maybe they thought he was going to resign, although it was a curious moment to announce something like that.
"Are you ready?" asked Lord Something-or-other who had an important position here -- Henry kept forgetting his name.
"I'm ready."
Lord Something-or-other turned the microphones on and he gave Henry a little microphone for around his neck as well. "Welcome here this evening, ladies and gentlemen on this historic occasion. Lord Setchley shall now take over and inform you why you've been called." He stepped back.
Henry began to grin. It was too bad if some people were expecting the historic event to be his resignation. He knew how to make official announcement, certainly, but he found he could not do it very properly today. He could barely find the official tone he needed. "Er…I'm delighted to be able to announce that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth has given birth to a baby girl a few hours ago."
The audience was considerably surprised and shocked. There was some excited whispering as they waited for him to continue.
"I realise that this will come as a bit of a surprise to everyone." He reached beside him and lifted the small baby for them to see. He rested his daughter against his chest. "Well, this is her. I've been assured that she's in perfect health, as is her mother, who regrettably could not be here right now because she was tired." He was still grinning. "I've tried to make this an official announcement, but I dare you to announce the birth of your daughter to the world. I think I'll just sit here and let you ask any questions you might have. She'll probably start crying when she's had enough of the attention." He kissed the small head tenderly.
"Why didn't anyone know the Queen was pregnant?" asked someone who looked almost too stunned to speak.
"The family knew, obviously. But you're probably aware of the fact that there have been rumours with regard to her ability to conceive. That's why she didn't want to make the news public. She found out she could get pregnant, but could she give birth to a healthy baby? She was a little afraid it might go wrong, even though the doctor assured her it was all going perfectly well."
"Have you already decided on the baby's name?"
"We have, but you'll probably be called here another time so Elizabeth can tell you herself." The name was not final yet.
"Will she be named after anyone?" Everyone knew that by naming the baby after the Queen Mother, they would also be naming her after Elizabeth's cousin, the evil witch Queen Sophia, who could do very little right after her assumed snubbing of Elizabeth. While the press might occasionally grumble, Elizabeth could depend on a lasting regard nevertheless.
Henry did not want to burn his fingers on anything. "I'm not going to talk about that. Elizabeth will tell you later."
"When will that be?"
"When she feels up to it." He could not say when that would be. Knowing Elizabeth, presumably tomorrow, but if he said so everyone would be counting on it.
"How is she feeling?"
"She's pretty tired, but she was perfect during the birth."
"Was she in any pain?"
"Queens don't feel pain," Henry said sarcastically. "What do you think?"
"In which hospital did she give birth?"
"Here. I mean, upstairs."
"Not in a hospital?"
It pleased Henry that he could say no. "No. At home."
"Was that a conscious choice or did the birth surprise her?"
"It was a conscious choice to give birth at home. Considering that she already hadn't wanted to share her wedding with strangers, you'll understand that she didn't feel like sharing this moment with an entire hospital, so now there were only a few people present whom she knew and trusted. I felt the same way, although it wouldn't have mattered as much to me."
"Were you there?"
Henry remained polite, despite the stupidity of the question. "Obviously."
"Weren't you afraid there might be complications?"
"Not really. And there weren't any," he said to make sure they would not invent any either.
"How is the Queen feeling right now?"
"She's very tired, but she's very happy." Two things that seemed obvious to him.
"I believe you have three children in your care. What about them?"
They were moving to treacherous ground now. "They're thrilled and think the baby is very sweet and cute."
"Were they present at the birth?"
"Er…I don't actually know," Henry confessed. "Good question. They were in and out of the room all the time." But they had behaved so well that he had hardly noticed them.
"They were allowed to watch?" The question was incredulous.
"It works better than having to answer questions afterwards. You'd understand it better if you knew what sort of questions they tend to ask." But the baby is so small and sweet. How could it have hurt you while it was in your tummy? They should have seen Elizabeth's face.
"But it's not very conventional to have children watch."
Henry shrugged. Did he care what was conventional or not? And why had they brought the matter up then in the first place? "We certainly didn't want them to feel left out. They shouldn't be thinking that now that we have a child that is biologically ours, we'll stop loving the ones that are not."
"You must be thrilled to have a child of your own now, though."
Henry did not want to be trapped into saying things. "May I suspend judgement on that until they've made me change her nappy?" He kissed the baby's tiny head. He would change all her nappies, even if it had to be done every half hour.
"The Queen must be very happy to have an heir, finally."
Henry would rather leave such things for Elizabeth to comment on, since he could not say what she was thinking. "She's very happy to have a baby. Those who are interested can take a picture of her now," he beamed, turning his daughter so she was facing the press. She underwent the attention calmly, even opening her eyes halfway, whereupon everyone who had already taken a picture of her with her eyes closed had to take another picture. "Don't tease your father!" Henry whispered. When everyone had sat down again, he decided it was time for a last round of questions. "Final questions, please."
Some had been doing their maths in the meantime. "The moment of conception would have to have been in a period when you publicly said you weren't married, shortly after Brazil."
Henry was unfazed. "Around the period of time when I was kissing a bimbo, perhaps?" he reacted sarcastically. "Perhaps now is the time to take back all that cheap thrill stuff? For there's a certain lack of respect in speaking about your monarch in that manner. And don't say I never, because I know exactly which papers called her what." There was silence. "The thrill did not come cheap, but it was worth it."
Elizabeth had just woken from a little nap when Henry got back. "How did it go?" she asked. Everyone had left and she was alone now. Her eyes would have been on his face before, but now they automatically travelled to the bundle in his arms and she still felt excitement and wonder upon seeing it. It had not been a dream. That was a very real little baby there.
Henry sat on the edge of the bed and laid the baby beside Elizabeth. He did not know yet how to give it to someone else properly and this was the easiest thing to do. "I think she's hungry." The baby was whimpering a little and her lips were moving.
"She's so beautiful. I still can't believe that we…" Elizabeth exchanged a look of pride with Henry and then lifted the baby carefully. "Was everyone surprised?" She hoped nobody had been disapproving or critical.
"Yes. Of course. It was very amusing. Can we name her now?" He wanted to call her by a name and not think of her as the baby. She was here now and a little person in her own right.
They had talked about it before, but they had decided to wait until the baby was born to pick a definitive name, although they had not thought they would change their minds. "I am surprised, Livius," Elizabeth said teasingly, "that you want to name your daughter Livia when you prefer to go by Henry yourself."
"It's not a bad name, but it looks better on girls. Do you have any serious problems with Livia?" She had not had them before, but it was best to ask another time.
"No, but I didn't have any objections to Livius either, despite my teasing. Livia." She glanced at little Livia, who did not begin to cry and therefore did not have any objections to the name she would bear for the rest of her life. But then again, she could do like her father if she did not like it.
"Livia Elizabeth. I would have thought little princesses always needed more than three names," said Henry. "You have two. I have three. Let's give her four." They had not gone beyond two names before, leaving that for later.
She smiled. "I like that sort of logic." Henry had insisted on Elizabeth because he liked it and she had finally given in, although she felt that it was a bit vain to name her daughter after herself. In her opinion it was not at all vain to name her after Henry, although they had not picked Livius in case it had been a boy. She could handle it being Henry's name, but to give it to a son was something else.
"And now we need two more," said Henry. "We cannot name her after the entire family, otherwise we won't have anything left for the next one."
"The next one!" Elizabeth giggled. "Please don't run ahead of things."
"Has this put you off forever?" Henry asked hesitantly. He thought she had borne it rather well, but he could not be absolutely sure how she had felt.
She leant against him affectionately. "No, of course not, but let's just take it the way it comes. Still, are you saying we should leave Sophia and Margaret for the next? It might be a boy."
"And it might not."
The next morning, when Henry had gone back to work and to register the baby, it was Elizabeth's turn to show Livia to the press. She was a bit nervous about it. Last night Henry had shown his daughter, but today she was presenting a little princess and the heir to the throne. There was a difference -- to her, anyway.
At other times she had been the Queen, hiding behind her role. Now, with little Livia sleeping on her arm, she felt very exposed as a real person and a mother. She could hardly be looking her best right now. They could see she was tired and not yet back in shape. Yet what else could they see other than that she was happy? And happy was good, she told herself.
"I have to show the baby on TV," she said to David and John after they had breakfast with her in her bedroom. Mary had gone with Henry, because she had wanted to see how he registered the baby, but the boys still had to be entertained. They should not be ignored now that the baby was there.
"We already saw the baby on TV this morning," said David, implying there was very little point in showing her again.
He was right, in a sense. Elizabeth sighed. But it was her duty to present the little princess. She would sound awfully formal compared to Henry. But what sort of person would she be if she left all announcements to her mother? She had never had this many problems with announcements before.
She left Livia in the room next to the press room, telling David and John they had to watch over her very closely, not to let anyone take her and on no account to take her out of her crib. She did not mention that Teddy was really the one in charge. They might feel left out of it again.
The press room was more festively decked out than the night before. The catering service had summoned up waitresses and waiters in all haste to serve small snacks and champagne. It all looked far less informal than Henry's announcement. He had spoken to a selected group, whereas this morning there was a long queue of journalists waiting to have their cards checked. And the foreign media were not even scheduled until that afternoon.
When she got the sign that all were seated, she went in and they all stood up again. Barry had just briefed them on protocol and etiquette, she supposed. It had been a pain to find something to wear, since her size had changed again. Teddy and she had picked something shapeless and comfortable that did not look too much like pyjamas. Still, its suitability for presenting a successor was doubtful.
She sat down and glanced over the room before she began to speak. She was really too tired to make something of it. Nevertheless, a spontaneous and unrehearsed announcement might go down better than a stilted and stiff speech, especially when it concerned such a joyous occasion as a birth.
"Most of you will already have heard the good news. I'm very proud to announce the birth of my daughter to you this morning and several things my husband left for me to announce," she began. "The baby was born last night and it all went very well. We decided to call her Livia Elizabeth Margaret Sophia. I believe you've all been given a fact sheet with her exact weight and measurements already and I'd like to add that Livia's a very healthy baby." The doctor had been in to check both of them and that was what he had said.
"Furthermore I cannot say how happy I am -- how happy we all are with such a beautiful little girl." She paused and smiled. "And I'm terribly sorry if people were becoming frightened about the continuation of the monarchy." She had never been aware that it had weighed on her so much as now that the weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "We have now secured it." That sounded odd. "I must stress that I didn't give birth to an heir, but to a baby. It's just very convenient that I could have both. The pregnancy surprised me and it was not planned at all, but that doesn't matter for the degree of happiness we feel." She stifled a yawn.
"We'll do our best to give Livia the same upbringing as our other three children, because my husband and I have the same views on the matter. This may be my first baby, but I married a man with three children in his care, so she's not my first child and I will never think less of the other three." That was something she had to stress right away, before people would raise questions about it. She nodded at Barry. This was everything she had to announce, really. Maybe he could take over before she would start gushing about her daughter and husband, who were both wonderful and who looked adorable together. There was not really any place for that in an official announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, right now you'll have the opportunity to ask questions, after which Her Majesty shall present the baby, followed by an opportunity to take photographs and to raise a glass in celebration of the birth of Her Royal Highness Princess Livia," said Barry.
The majority had already asked Henry the most pressing questions the night before. Still, they wanted to hear from Elizabeth too why she had kept her pregnancy a secret.
"It was me who didn't want to announce my pregnancy, for fear of complications," she said to expel any notions people might have of that being Henry's idea. "It was really not because my husband was embarrassed about making a queen pregnant. He is my husband and such things happen, although some people seem to have a hard time accepting that. Also, when they are judging us, people are all too likely not to see that we spent two years trying to be all that is good and moral -- and incredibly stupid. Instead, they focus on one lapse in self-control, which they then condemn very severely. However, if we hadn't lost control we wouldn't have any of this happiness right now and we would not have a baby.
"I also felt that I couldn't also handle more of the world's criticism when I was already trying to handle three children, not to mention a husband. Not that he gives me any trouble, but suddenly there's another person you have to take into account." She smiled a little, as always when she was speaking about Henry.
"Have you recovered enough to leave your bed?"
"Apparently. I couldn't do this from my bedroom," she answered. She had no choice. "It doesn't seat this many people."
John disturbed them. Elizabeth noticed some heads turning to a door at the side and she turned her head as well. He was standing there looking distressed. "Mummy, he's crying! And David says it's my fault but it isn't!"
Some people in the audience who had children recognised this and they snickered.
"Who's crying?" Elizabeth had the advantage of the microphone, so she did not have to raise her voice. She was not annoyed by this interruption and she never would be. And it thrilled her to hear herself being addressed as Mummy, even more so because this could not have been done at a better moment.
"The baby! He's crying."
That amused her. John was a sweetie. "Darling, it was a girl last time I checked."
"I don't care! David says it's my fault." He ran towards her and threw himself into her arms. "She was eating my finger and I told her not to and she started to cry. I didn't do anything."
"One moment," Elizabeth excused herself to the room. This problem had to be solved first before she could continue. It was against her principles to become angry with John for interrupting and to send him away. That was something she would never do, not even on an occasion like this. She loosened John's grip and looked at him. He looked very distressed, the poor thing. Crying was the only thing babies could do, so it probably had nothing to do with him, but it was unlikely that he would believe her if she said so. Teddy was supposed to be there with them and she could not imagine that Teddy had not said this already.
She took John's hand and took him to the other room. Teddy was looking amused and David was there, peering very anxiously into the crib. Livia was wailing with her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her mouth opened extremely wide for someone that tiny. Elizabeth lifted her out and comforted her. "Hush. Mummy's here now. Listen, boys. I was busy. Do you all want to come with me and sit next to me until I finish? Or will you promise me you'll behave?"
"We don't want to stay here if you take the baby," said David. It looked very much as if she was going to do that. They did not want to be left behind.
"Alright then, but be quiet and get yourselves a chair." She looked at Teddy inquiringly.
"I tried," Teddy said with a shrug. "And then I sent him in to fetch you." Poor nervous Linnie would have benefited from a light diversion. Enjoyment made Linnie quiet rather than exuberant and people might think she was cold and not happy with the baby.
That made Elizabeth smile. "Good moment. Thanks, Teddy." She nodded at the two boys. "Let's go." They followed her meekly and found two chairs without fighting. "Well," Elizabeth resumed when they were all seated. "Where were we?" She could see people were trying to catch a glimpse of Livia. They would get the opportunity later, but it was good that they seemed interested.
"Have you recovered enough to be here?" was the next question.
"Frankly, if I hadn't come you would have assumed there were complications," Elizabeth said politely. She had just answered something similar. Why did they have to ask again? "And there were none." She beamed, looking down at her daughter. "She's such a sweet little thing."
They were allowed to take pictures of the baby and of Elizabeth holding it. She posed patiently, knowing that it was inevitable and that if she did not give them the chance now, they would be stalking her, thinking something was wrong with either of them.
"Could we get the entire family together?" It would of course be nicer to include the boys in a picture.
"Not all of us are here and I don't think David and John would like to pose." She looked at the table they had gone to hide under at the mention of pictures. "You will have to be satisfied with me."
"Where is the Prime Minister?"
"He's being the Prime Minister at the moment, of course," she replied. "I'm sure people wouldn't appreciate it if he took time off to change his daughter's nappies or hold my hand."
"So we cannot take a picture of you and him and the baby?"
"I'm sure you'll be given another opportunity. He and I have absolutely no objections to doing things together." By now that should be more than clear and she smiled widely.
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