Christmas with the Queen

Chapter 39 Olive

Chapter 39

Olive

M y parents’ romantic meal was a great success until it turned into a complete disaster. They’d chosen a shrimp starter and were both struck down in the night by awful food poisoning. I woke to discover them both as sick as dogs. There was no way they could look after Lucy, and there was also no way I could back out of my role as Bullen’s assistant at Sandringham.

There was only one thing to do. Lucy would have to come with me, although what on earth I would do with her when I got there, I didn’t know.

I couldn’t bear to involve Maguire, so I took a chance and placed a call directly through to Sandringham House and asked to speak with Mrs. Leonard. When I explained my predicament, she was very understanding.

“I’ll ask Evans to bring you directly to your cottage. Your daughter will have to lie very low, I’m afraid. Perhaps I will ask Nancy or one of the other girls to sit with her while you’re busy.”

“That’s ever so kind of you,” I said. “She’s very well behaved. She’ll be no trouble.”

“Leave it with me, dear. I’ll inform security to expect you both.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Leonard. I really didn’t know what else to do.”

She paused slightly before responding. “I understand how challenging your situation is, Miss Carter. I have absolute admiration for any woman raising a child on her own. We’ll see you a little later today.”

Lucy could hardly contain her excitement when I explained that she was coming with me to Sandringham.

“And we’re really spending Christmas with the queen? In a castle? Will there be ponies? And dogs?”

“In a sort of castle. And yes, there will be lots of ponies. And dogs!”

She chose her best dresses and her favorite teddy bears and talked nonstop all the way to the train station, and all the way to King’s Lynn. Thankfully, Charlie was driving himself there. My plan was to get Lucy into the cottage before he saw me. He would never even know she was there.

It was a relief to find Evans waiting at the station. He was as pleasant and chatty as ever, and was great with Lucy, who couldn’t take her eyes away from the car window as we got closer and Evans turned through the gates. As we rolled along the sweeping driveway and Sandringham House came into view, Lucy squealed with excitement.

“Look, Mummy!” she shouted. “It’s a real palace. And there’s a flag on the roof!”

Evans chuckled as I shushed her. “No need to be quiet, Miss Lucy,” he said. “I still get excited by the view, even after all these years.”

Once we’d parked, he helped carry our luggage inside and wished us well.

“She’s a live-wire that one!” he said. “Reminds me of my great-nieces and -nephews. Children make Christmas, don’t they? Mrs. Leonard will pop down in a while. She said to make yourselves comfortable.”

Lucy ran around the cottage, inspecting the comfortable bedrooms and the little kitchen, everything tastefully decorated in the style of a cozy country home. A toy bear had even been placed on the pillow of the bed in the smaller bedroom, a tag tied around his paw with the name Lucy written in beautiful looping script. Dear Mrs. Leonard taking extra care, I presumed. Everything was so considered here. Not too austere. Not too simple. Just right. I was Goldilocks, lost in a fairytale.

I bent down to undo the top button on Lucy’s scarlet coat and took off the black velvet beret my sister had given her for her birthday. She looked like a Victorian Christmas card.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her toward me. “I love you, Lucy Carter.” I loved her so much I felt I would burst. She was my world, my constant through everything. A gift I hadn’t known I’d wanted and now couldn’t imagine being without.

She giggled as I blew raspberries into her ear. “I love you, Mummy Carter.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a young woman armed with a stack of jigsaws and board games.

“Hello, miss. I’m Nancy. Mrs. Leonard asked me to call down to you.” She smiled at Lucy. “And you must be Lucy. I brought some games and jigsaws for us to do together. Do you like jigsaws?”

I was so grateful to Mrs. Leonard. Finally, I could relax a little to know that Lucy would be in safe hands while I worked.

“Lucy loves jigsaws. She’ll be no trouble,” I said. “You will be a very good girl, won’t you, Lucy. You can stay here with Nancy while I go and do my job.”

I wasn’t even entirely sure what “my job” would entail. Tom had made it very clear that I was to assist Charlie. What he hadn’t made clear was what I would be assisting Charlie with. I was due to meet him in the breakfast room in thirty minutes.

I arrived four minutes late.

“I was about to send out a search party,” Bullen said as I rushed into the room. “The tea will be cold.”

A tray of tea and scones sat on the table. I was starving but resisted the urge to dive straight in.

“Sorry about that. The cottage I’m staying in was a little further away than I’d remembered.”

“Not held up by your daughter then?” He stared at me. “Most unusual for a royal reporter to bring their child to work with them.”

How did he know Lucy was here?

I felt color rush to my cheeks, but I refused to apologize, or explain, or make an issue of it. I sat down in the seat opposite him. “Did you want to run through a schedule? Discuss ideas. Or would you like me to take notes?”

Clearly annoyed by my refusal to bite, he removed a typed sheet of paper from his briefcase and handed it to me. “I’ve underlined the tasks assigned to you. I shall mostly be spending time with the duke. I’m doing a feature on him this year. The palace is keen to elevate his profile.”

I ran my eyes over the items I’d been assigned.

Short piece on the floral arrangements and florists

Short piece on the royal children: milestones, first Christmas with their mother in two years, etc.

Short piece on the royal Christmas cake

“And who am I to interview about these matters?” I asked, trying to control the irritation in my voice. He’d tasked me with small trivial items, while keeping the important things for himself. Of course he thought women could understand nothing beyond children, flowers, and cake. After three years of working diligently, and covering the royal family’s Christmas in some way or other, I deserved more.

“You’re the budding reporter, aren’t you? Great friends with Her Majesty?” He stood up to leave. “I have no doubt you’ll find the right sources. But, if you find you are struggling, I could always help.”

I would rather chew on a wasp than ask Bullen for help. “Oh, I shall manage perfectly well. I’ve spoken with one of the florists before,” I said. “And, as a mother, I can fully relate to the difficulty of being apart from your children. As for the Christmas cake, I have a friend in the royal kitchens as it happens, so there will be no problem there.”

He huffed out a breath. “Well then. I have planned your time wisely.”

“Apparently so.” I stared at the tea and scones on the table. “Is jam first the correct etiquette for scones, or cream first? I’m never sure.”

He shrugged. “Personal preference. But if you want a tidbit for your little write-up, I believe the queen puts the cream on first.”

Little write-up! I stared at him, then scooped up a spoonful of jam, added a dollop of cream on top, and took a defiant bite.

I waited for him to leave before I let out a frustrated breath and threw my notebook onto the table. How was I ever going to get rid of him? I had so much to prove, so much more than anyone else, because I was a woman, and a mother.

I walked to the window and looked out across the manicured lawns and gardens. It really was so beautiful here. I watched as festive garlands were hung around the doorway, and staff rushed to and fro, busy in their tasks to make the place perfect. My attention was drawn to a couple of men carrying a hamper, both of them laughing as they struggled and maneuvered awkwardly beneath its weight.

Jack.

I stood to one side, in case he spotted me. My stomach flipped as a smile spread to my lips. He looked happy and relaxed, just as he had on SS Gothic . Get a grip, Carter, I told myself. But there was no denying the flutter of excitement at seeing him.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me, and turned to see Her Majesty. I dipped into a curtsey before rushing to pick up my things and get out of her way. “Ma’am.”

“Ah, Miss Carter. I heard you were coming. I hope the accommodation is suitable.”

I assured her that it was more than suitable. “Mrs. Leonard has thought of everything.”

“And your daughter is quite settled?”

Even the queen had heard about Lucy being here? The familiar sense of dread I’d carried ever since Lucy was born surfaced again. Would I be found out? Would my status as an unmarried mother be revealed? Would everything I had worked for be taken away from me?

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “She is rather impressed to be at a real palace.”

At this, the queen offered a slight smile. “What age is she?”

“Eight and a half, ma’am. The half is very important.”

“Does she like dogs?”

I nodded. “She loves dogs, but we can’t have one because my mother reacts to their hair.”

“She can play with the corgis then. In fact, it is rather appropriate for her to be here. The theme of my speech this year centers on Christmas being very much a children’s festival.”

“That sounds lovely, ma’am. The driver, Evans, was just remarking on how Christmas is made by children.”

“Indeed.” She walked to a shelf and pulled a book from between the spines. “Inspiration,” she said, “for this year’s speech. It is hard to believe another year has passed since we were in New Zealand.”

“Yes, ma’am. The year has flown.”

She looked at me. “Are you very busy?”

Should I say yes? No? I settled on something in the middle. “I’m never too busy for you, ma’am.”

“Would you mind listening to what I have so far? It seems that you are quite the lucky charm now. I fear some great calamity might befall me if I don’t run through the speech with you before the big day.”

I smiled, thrilled she should consider my opinion so important. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Jolly good. I am in the study next door.”

We stepped inside and she pulled some pages across the desk as she sat down.

I lost track of time, listening intently, making small supportive comments and offering the occasional piece of advice. It was almost a familiar routine now, and I was increasingly comfortable, and confident, in her company.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door and Mrs. Leonard was shown into the room.

“Ah. Good timing. We were just finishing,” Her Majesty said.

“Very good, ma’am. I wondered if I might borrow Miss Carter for a moment or two.”

“Is everything all right?” I realized how long Lucy had been with Nancy. I hope Lucy is behaving herself.”

Mrs. Leonard smiled. “Everything’s fine. Lucy and Nancy decided to go exploring.”

I groaned. “I’m so sorry. I did tell her to stay in the cottage.”

“Well, she’s now in the kitchens, being treated to bonbons and cinnamon apple puffs. And I can hardly say I blame her. The smell has been tormenting me all day!”

I stood up. “Honestly, that child could charm her way into the vaults holding the crown jewels.”

I curtsied to the queen, who was feeding a treat to the corgis, then hurried after Mrs. Leonard. “I hope she isn’t causing any bother. I’ll take her straight back to the cottage.”

“Not at all! She’s a delight. She’s helping one of the chefs—the American fellow.”

A rising sense of panic flared in my chest. She must be with Jack.

I hurried to the kitchens, and there she was, kneeling up on a stool, cutting out stars from scraps of pastry, her tongue stuck out to one side as she concentrated.

I stood for a moment in the doorway, my heart in my mouth as Jack patiently instructed her, only helping when she got in a muddle.

I moved forward, propelled by an instinct to interrupt them. I wasn’t ready to confront this. I wasn’t ready for whatever this might mean for all of us. In my haste, my elbow knocked a pot of spoons from the windowsill and sent them spilling onto the floor in a terrible clatter.

“Mummy!” Lucy scrambled down from the stool and ran over to me. “I’m making pastry shapes for the mince pies. Look!”

“I can see that, darling. But I did ask you to stay in the cottage, didn’t I?” I tried to keep my voice steady, not to show the depth of my reaction.

“But it was boring there, so Nancy said we could come up to the house for a look around. Mr. Jack is a chef. He makes all the queen’s food!”

“ All the queen’s food?” I looked at Jack, who offered a quizzical smile.

“I’m a very busy man,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, Olive.”

Did he lean toward me to kiss my cheek in greeting, or was I imagining it? Either way, the moment passed as I reached for Lucy at the same time to lift her down from the stool.

“It’s good to see you, too, Jack.” Surely he could hear the pounding of my heart. “Thank you for keeping her busy. I hope she hasn’t been getting in your way.”

He smiled. “She makes a great sous-chef. You’re welcome in my kitchen anytime, Lucy.”

She beamed at him, and I felt like my heart would burst with love and fear. I didn’t know how I would ever share my enormous secret in a way that they would both understand, and forgive me for keeping from them.

I gave Lucy a meaningful stare. “Anyway, I’m sure Mr. Jack has a million things to be doing without bored little girls getting under his feet.” I told Lucy to tidy her things and wash her hands and thanked Jack again. “Sorry about this.”

“There’s no hurry. How long are you here for?” he asked.

“A few days. I’m assisting Charlie Bullen.”

“Too bad you’re not the one holding the reigns.”

“Any chance you could give him some undercooked prawns? Add a drop of something poisonous into his soup?”

He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ve been tasked with doing a piece on the royal Christmas cake. I don’t suppose you could help me with that?”

“Not my area, I’m afraid. But I’m sure Brian over there would be more than happy to bore you with tales of life as a pastry chef and the delicate craft of sugarwork.”

Was he trying to put me off? “Thanks awfully. I’ll ask him.”

There was a moment, a beat. Neither of us knew what to say.

Lucy broke the silence. “Can I help you again tomorrow, Mr. Jack?” She pulled her hand from mine and threw her arms around his legs.

He stood as stiff as fire irons in Lucy’s embrace. I, too, seemed to freeze. Could he see it: his brow, his cheekbones in her face? Did some part of him instinctively know?

“Come along, you. Mr. Devereux is very busy.” I took Lucy’s hand and hurried her out of the kitchen. I only remembered to breathe again when we were halfway across the lawns.

“Are you cross, Mummy? You seem cross.”

“No, darling. I’m not cross.”

“Why are you walking so fast? Don’t you like Mr. Jack?”

I stopped and bent down so that our eyes were level. “I do like Mr. Jack, darling. He’s very nice, and it was very kind of him to show you how to make the toppings for the mince pies. But it was a surprise to see you in the kitchen, that’s all.”

“I like surprises. And I like Mr. Jack. He talks all funny!”

“I like surprises too, darling.”

But no matter how often I’d imagined it, or how often I’d hoped for it, nothing had prepared me for the surprise of seeing Lucy and Jack together.

How differently would Jack see her when he knew the truth?

And how differently would he see me for keeping the truth—and Lucy—from him for all these years?

If only I could turn the clock back.

If only I could have told him from the start.