Christmas with the Queen

Chapter 56 Olive

Chapter 56

Olive

I stared at the typewriter in front of me, struggling to find the right words for my new piece. The subject matter was tricky, the right tone hard to achieve after the largely negative response to the queen’s last Christmas message, which, critics claimed, had painted a false picture of the Commonwealth as one big happy family. It had added to the growing opinion that the royal family were out of touch, and that the monarchy needed modernizing. Philip’s antics overseas had also fueled rumors that the royal marriage was in trouble.

But, apart from a touch of writer’s block, I was also distracted by the date circled on my desk calendar: the royal tour—and Jack—had returned home yesterday.

“They’re back then!” Rosie remarked. “Mason said Jack is as tanned as a leather hide. He’s grown an impressive beard, too. Apparently, they had some sort of beard-growing competition while they were away, but Mason wouldn’t let him near the restaurant with it, so he shaved it off!”

I sighed. “Boys will be boys.” All I could think about was that Jack was back in England and hadn’t been in touch. Would he ever contact me again?

“Give him a day or two, Olive. No doubt he’s exhausted after the long journey and with the time differences and whatnot.”

“I suppose so.”

She reached for my hand. “He’ll be in touch.”

I hoped she was right. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought that he might still be angry with me and not want to see me. Lucy had asked about him several times, disappointed that “my special friend” wasn’t around. The tour had been a good excuse, but even she knew that was over now.

Just then, the telephone on my desk rang.

“Olive Carter,” I said as I picked up the receiver.

“Someone to see you in reception, Miss Carter. He said you’ve been expecting him.”

My breath caught in my throat. I hardly dared believe it was him.

“I’ll be right down.” I replaced the receiver and took a deep breath to try and calm myself.

“Olive?” Rosie looked at me, her face hopeful. “Is it him?”

“I think so!”

I hurried out of the office, Rosie’s cry of “Good luck” disappearing behind me as I rushed down the stairs, along the corridor and down more stairs, my heart thumping in my chest as I slipped and stumbled. I gasped, steadied myself, hurried to reception, and stopped.

There was nobody there.

I raced to the desk, a sense of panic rising in my chest. “There was somebody here to see me? I’m Olive Carter. Did he leave?”

“He just stepped outside, miss.”

I looked through the window, and there he was, the golden light of a low winter sun on his face.

I couldn’t believe he was here.

I pushed through the door, heart in my throat.

He turned to face me, love and hope in his eyes. My name fell from his lips, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Olive.”

I ran into his arms. He searched my eyes for an instant, caressing my cheek with his thumb, drinking me in, and the next moment, he tipped my face toward his and our lips met. He kissed me with urgency, washing away all the long months we’d been apart. He kissed me across time, unraveling all the lost years when we’d sidestepped fate. He kissed me as if he’d always loved me, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be than right here. And I felt as if my heart would burst.

We wiped tears from each other’s cheeks.

“Can you love us both?” I asked. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

He brushed a curl from my face. “Of course I can love you both. I love you for who you are, Olive. The way you are with Lucy doesn’t define you. It just makes me love you even more.”

“We’ll be all right, the three of us?”

He smiled and pulled me closer. “Of course we will. We’re a perfect recipe. Like roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, and gravy.”

“Like fish and chips and mushy peas! Like scones and jam and cream!”

“Like shrimp and rice and peppers.” He reached for my hands. “The three of us will be more than all right, Olive. We’ll be unstoppable!”

He bent his lips to mine again and the whole beautiful, crazy world melted away, and all that remained was love.