In Another Life

“I don’t understand,” Amanda says in a bewildered voice. She shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed deeply. “Do you know how this happened?”

“I know how it happened,” Jeanette snaps, her eyes flashing angrily. “I just… don’t know how it happened.” Her chin is trembling and I know that she’s going to lose what little bit of her composure is left.

“Jeanette,” Amanda moves to hug the trembling girl, but she shrugs off her advances, folding in on herself cruelly. “Love, it’s going to be okay,” She begins hesitantly, but she gets interrupted.

“It’s not going to be okay, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell all of you,” Jeanette wipes at her wet eyes in frustration. “That’s why I was so keen on you lot coming together for this holiday and when you backed out,” She addresses me, her lips trembling. “I lost it completely. I-I cannot have a baby. I’m not ready to be a mother—in fact, I hate children,” She gasps for breath, her chest rising and falling dramatically.

I make a small move towards her and note how she flinches away from my advances. But I know that she’s hurting and she doesn’t mean it personally, so I shrug away my hurt feelings. “There are other options out there and you know we’ll support you in whatever you choose to do—”

She rubs at her nose and inhales deeply, the tears starting to drip down her cheeks. She leans back into her armchair and stares up at the ceiling, her hair sticking to her wet cheeks. “I’m getting an abortion.”

I close my eyes at her words and try not to show just how much her decision affects me. I know that Jeanette is pro-choice and I respect her decision, but deep down, I know that I, personally, could never conscientiously stray down that path. My heart aches at the idea of a sweet little baby never getting a chance at life. But at the bottom of everything, Jeanette is still my friend and I will support her to the very end, even if it means setting aside my own personal beliefs for the time being.

Amanda, being a third-year nursing student, slips into medicine mode easily. “How far along are you? Have you had a doctor confirm the pregnancy? Do you know where you’re having—”

“Amanda,” Raina interrupts gently and I turn away from Jeanette to see the last member of our group coming in from the kitchen with a tray in her grasp. She sets the tray on the floor and I realize that she’s made a fresh pot of tea as she begins to pour out four generous cups. “I am sure that Jeanette appreciates your concern from a medical viewpoint, but I think that right now it’s wise if we show her concern from a friend’s point of view.” She hands the first cup to Jeanette and offers her a small smile.

Jeanette grasps the mug in both of her hands greedily and she leans forward into the steam, a sign of stress that I know very well. “Ta, Rai.”

Raina smiles again and continues doling out the drinks until all of us have our serving. Then she folds her legs neatly and shakes her fringe out of her eyes before she turns her attention back on our ailing friend. “So what happened?”

And then the entire story comes out. Jeanette had been seeing this boy for a few weeks and they decided that they were better off as friends. Except that morphed into a friends-with-benefits situation. Somehow, along the way, either their condom broke or she missed a pill, but she ended up pregnant.

Of course, she refuses to tell the boy (Who, from what I can gather, is a real charmer. Note the sarcasm.) and has decided on her own that an abortion is her only option. The only problem with this is that she doesn’t meet all of the requirements as mandated by British law for her to have it done at a public clinic. Her only other choice is to go to private care and have her procedure done there. And now she must scrape together £450 as private care costs loads more.

Which then brings the next problem to light. She doesn’t have the money and it’s not like she can go take out a loan from the bank or ask them to increase her overdraft or something. Asking her mum for money is out of the question, as well. Jeanette and her mother are not on the best of terms. And even if she did ask, her family’s struggling to make ends meet as is. All of the money that she makes at her job at the bookstore goes straight into paying bills and rent.

“You know,” I begin slowly, working out a few sums in my head. “I have a bit you can borrow. I mean, it’s not much, about £60 but it’s something—at least to add to your collection so far, I mean.” I add on hastily upon seeing the outraged expression on my friend’s face.

“I have some money, too.” Amanda chimes in, her brows furrowing as she thinks. “Nearly a hundred pounds saved up that you can have.”

“I have about 50 quid,” Raina announces, ticking off a few fingers. “So that’s already nearly halfway there.” She grins encouragingly at all of us.

Jeanette closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I can’t borrow the money from you all. You guys need that; I know you all have bills to pay. I’ll figure this out on my own,” She says in a firm voice, looking so small and vulnerable in her chair. But then she lets out a soft sob and leans over, sloshing her tea on the ground. “I’ve no idea what I’m going to do. My rent’s coming up, I’ve used up all of my sick days at work and I’ve overdrawn on my account. Amy’s threatening to kick me out if I don’t come up with my half of the rent. She’s already covered last month for me.”

“Stay with me,” I say firmly, tugging the teacup out of her hands and touching her knee lightly. “At least until things get settled. I-I can clear out space for a cot or you can use the pullout on the sofa. That way you don’t have to worry about rent or anything.”

“Bryn, I can’t do that,” Jeanette croaks, her voice catching in her throat. “I’ve been so awful to you and it would be such an inconvenience having me about. What if your parents find out and kick me out?”

“They won’t care,” I reply, patting her leg lightly. “As soon as we get back to London, you’re coming to stay with me. That’ll save you a bit of money.” I stop abruptly as Jeanette throws her arms about me and hugs me tightly.

She inhales deeply, the breath rattling in her chest as she struggles to pull herself together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I nod, not even giving it a second thought. “I’m the only one out of all of us that has room for you and I don’t mind—I want to help you out.”

“You are such an unbelievably amazing friend,” She cries onto my shoulder as I pat her back gently. “And I’ve been such a knob these past few days. I’ve no idea how to make this up to you, but I will. I promise, I will.”



The water is warm as it rushes up and swallows my foot whole. I watch as the waves bubble around my body and then the tide pulls it all back into the ocean and I can feel the sand shifting beneath me. The sun is beating down upon my back and I sigh sleepily, having spent most of my day out here on the beach. I’d been the last one up this morning and I’d ambled out into the sand to join all of my friends. None of us spoke about last night, though there was a silent agreement that we would deal with the issue once we got back into the city.

Finally I feel the gritty sand creeping into the bottoms of my bikini and I reluctantly haul myself up on my feet. I run my fingers along the elastic of my pants and adjust my top before I trot up the beach to where my friends are all lounging about lazily.

Raina is stretched out on a towel, her face covered with another towel as she dozes in the sun’s rays, while Jeanette is drawing meaningless shapes into the sand with her fingers. Meanwhile, Amanda is under a giant sunhat and umbrella with a book long forgotten in her lap as she gazes out into the waters.

Our group is a rather somber one and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re all silently thinking about Jeanette’s predicament or if we’re all just content to sit here in a comfortable silence. I decide that it’s a little bit of both as I throw myself down onto my own towel and reach for the bottle of sunblock that Raina has anchored in the sand.

“Bryn?” Jeanette says quietly and I look up from my current task of attempting to brush the sand off of my thighs. When she realizes that I’ve raised my eyebrows in response to her question, she continues speaking. “Last night, when I was being a complete cow to you, you said something about hanging out with a boy.”

My heart skips a beat inside my chest, but I force myself to continue my menial task of de-sanding myself. I had thought that I had avoided having this conversation, especially after her bombshell last night. But it looks like she hasn’t forgotten, nor, as it seems, have my other friends. Amanda comes out of her trance and eyes me curiously, while Raina uncovers her face and flops over onto her stomach so she can see me properly.

“Yes,” I reply carefully, not meeting any of their gazes. “I suppose I did.”

“Is it that Harry bloke you were going on about a few weeks back?” Amanda asks quietly, turning the corner of her page down to mark her spot and then shutting her book. “Because your entire face lit up when you were talking about him and I thought there was something going on between the two of you.”

I flush at her words. That afternoon seems like it happened ages ago and I can’t believe that she remembers. Okay, actually I can. Amanda’s got a memory like an elephant. She never forgets.

I nod and arrange my limbs into a comfortable sitting position. I inhale deeply and then finally raise my eyes to meet the stares of my best friends. “It is, actually. Harry is… a guy that I have been seeing for the past couple of weeks. Well, more like nearly two months if you want to be specific about it.”

Their cries of indignation are expected. Naturally they all look affronted at having been left in the dark all this time and I can’t say that I blame them. I’d be furious if they kept such a huge secret from me.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Amanda asks, throwing her empty water bottle at me jokingly. “You slag!”

I shrug, relieved that they don’t seem too upset with me. Except I expect that it would be rather difficult to top Jeanette’s revelation from last night. “I don’t know. I was nervous, I s’pose.”

“That’s a stupid reason,” Raina replies, laughing so that I can see her teeth. “It’s not like we’re going to poke fun of him. Unless he’s really ugly,” She adds on, her eyes twinkling merrily. “And then all bets are off.”

I throw Amanda’s water bottle at her, but the smile on my face widens a bit. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy and you probably won’t believe me, but whatever. It’s the truth.”

“God,” Amanda giggles. “You make him sound like he’s a celebrity or something.”

I rub the skin at the back of my neck gingerly. “Err, it’s something like that actually. It’s—it’s Prince Harry.”

Silence hails down upon our small group and I fidget uncomfortably, well aware of the incredulous stares that are being thrown my way. And then I start to feel the tiny pinpricks of annoyance. The idea of Prince Harry seeing me isn’t that ludicrous! I mean, I’m fairly attractive, I think and—

Jeanette snorts attractively and the tension in the group melts away. “Oh god, Bryn’s finally gone bonkers.”

“I’m serious!” I exclaim, my voice going all high-pitched and shrill. “I met him at a polo match that I went to with Liv ages ago and then I saw him again when I was with Raina at that polo match and-and I kept getting these invites to places and he was always there and he’s really amazing and nice and sweet and cute. That’s why I bailed out on you guys yesterday, because I was at Wimbledon with him.”

“You were not!” Jeanette gasps, her mouth dropping open. She’s the sporty, athletic one of the group and she’s been chomping at the bit to be able to attend Wimbledon for years now. “You were at Wimbledon?!”

I nod slowly, thinking back upon yesterday afternoon. “Yes, I-I-he called me—well, actually he sent me a letter and invited me and then he called me and we got all the details straightened out and I met him there. We sat in the Royal Gallery and we had lunch together. And dessert,” I add on with a shy smile to myself as I recall the way I’d fed him strawberries.

“So you’re telling me,” Amanda looks completely shell-shocked. I guess maybe there was a way to top Jeanette’s news last night. “You’re telling me that if I were to go through your mobile, I would find Prince Harry’s number and I could theoretically call him?”

I hesitant, weighing out my chances of Amanda actually stealing my phone and pestering Harry before I answer. “Yes, you could, I suppose.”

She leans back in her chair and shakes her head in complete shock. “I cannot believe this. My best friend is dating Prince Harry!”

“I’m not dating him!” I rush to correct her assumption. “We’ve just been hanging out a few times, that’s all. He’s probably not even interested in me like that.” I wrinkle my nose to show my disdain, even though on the inside, my stomach is doing flipflops.

“Wait, so how did you two meet?” Raina asks, switching focuses quickly.

“I was at a polo match with Liv, because Phil couldn’t go because he had something to do with work,” I bring my knees up under my chin and hug my legs to my chest. “And he came up to me and started talking to me. I, like, didn’t make the connection that it was him at first,” I admit, smiling to myself as I remember how horrified I’d been when Liv told me who it actually was.

“You didn’t even know it was Prince Harry?” Jeanette chokes on her swell of laughter, biting down on her lower lip in a vain attempt to keep herself serious.

I shoot her a look and lightly kick sand in her direction, even though I know it’d fall pathetically short. “Well, I mean, he was playing and I didn’t recognize him straight away. He was all dirty and disheveled and I wasn’t expecting it either! If I’d known that he was there, I’d have been more prepared…” I trail off, trying not to smile as all three of my friends erupt into peals of hearty laughter.

“You had no idea!” Jeanette gasps for air, clutching at her stomach. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

I wait patiently for their amusement to die away before I continue. “Laugh all you want, but you wouldn’t have realized it was him either.”

Amanda waves her hands, looking thoroughly amused. “Okay, okay, sorry. Go on then, did you two fall madly in love then?”

I shake my head, resting my chin on my knees lightly. “The next time I saw him was at a charity dinner that I was invited to with Liv and Phil. Actually, the only reason I even went was because I thought that maybe I’d see him again or something,” I confess, even though my cheeks flush brilliantly in embarrassment.

“And did you?” Amanda asks eagerly, leaning forward to hear better.

I nod, smiling to myself again. “I saw him, yes, but we didn’t talk or anything. He was busy mingling and stuff. He definitely saw me though, we just didn’t,” I make a lame movement with my hands. “Connect or whatever. But it doesn’t matter, because I saw him again at that match I went to with you, Raina. When you went to go talk to that guy, he came up and we talked for a bit.”

“What, you mean I was at a polo match with a prince and you didn’t even bother to inform me?” Raina looks aghast at this revelation. “Did I do anything terribly embarrassing or improper that day?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “No, no you were fine. He was only there for a few moments anyway.”

“Go on then, no interruptions!” Amanda flaps her hands in excitement. “What happened next?”

Feeling strangely like I’m in some sort of cheesy sitcom, I continue my story. “Well, he had that letter sent to my house, that one you picked up, Amanda. It was to attend a professional polo match at HAM Polo Club. I only saw him for a few moments then, too. He came into my box—”

“You had your own box!?”

I nod. “Yeah, I mean, there were other people in there, too. But I didn’t know them, so I was pretty much on my own. He came in during the halftime and we talked for the entire break. And then I didn’t hear from him for a few weeks, but then I got an invitation to Jazz’s wedding.”

“Who’s Jazz?” Jeanette wonders, interrupting me.

“Oh, Jasmine Collins,” I reply, forgetting that my friends don’t all know these people on a first-name basis. “When she married Paul Smith—”

“You went to the Collins wedding!?” Amanda shrieks, nearly upsetting her bottle of soda at her feet. “Are you kidding me!? The tabloids were all over that place, how did you not get photographed?”

“I expect I did,” I answer slowly. “But I’m not anyone important, so my face isn’t worth much to them. I mean, I was only with Ted during the ceremony when the paparazzi were there and everything.” I pause upon seeing Raina’s confused face. “Theo Caswell, I mean.”

“Un-bloody-believable,” Amanda’s spine seems to go limp and she falls back into her chair in sheer disbelief. “Here we are, slumming about London’s grotty spots and you’re-you’re partying it up with royalty and socialites!”

“I wasn’t partying it up with them,” I laugh, squeezing my arms about my legs tightly. “I’ve had a few conversations with them, I suppose. The only real time that I’ve ever been with Harry alone—”

“She’s on a first-name basis with him!” Raina says gleefully, elbowing Amanda in the side.

“—was at Wimbledon!” I finish up with an exasperated shake of my head. “It’s the first time I’ve ever spent an extended period of time with him. So there, that’s everything.”

“You know what it sounds like to me?” Jeanette says thoughtfully, pursing her lips as she thinks. “You’re giving in too easily.”

“What?” I ask, turning to look at her. “What do you mean?”

She makes a rolling motion with her hands. “You’re too easy! You’re not playing hard to get,” She explains. “He invites you somewhere and you go, no questions asked. You have to give him a little bit of a challenge.”

“I don’t know,” I say slowly, doubt creeping into my voice for the first time in this conversation. “I’m not very good at playing hard to get, Jeanette. I don’t see the point in it. If I like him and if he likes my company,” I hurry to get that last bit out upon seeing the excited look on Amanda’s face. “Then why should I screw it all up with silly games?”

“She’s right though,” Amanda butts in, practically bouncing in her seat. “Prince Harry is a huge playboy. He’s always going out and partying it up with loads of different girls. He likes a challenge and he’ll lose interest if you make yourself too available.”

“Guys, this seems like a bad idea to me. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with it so far,” Raina pipes up, shooting me a supportive grin. “And we don’t really know what he’s like in person. What if his playboy status is a huge fabrication of the media? So what if Bry starts to act all coy and hard to get and that turns him off?”

I shoot her a smile of gratitude before I turn to Jeanette and Amanda who are both scheming together excitedly. “I’m not any good at flirting or playing the temptress. I don’t want to do it.”

Jeanette waves off my words easily. “Okay, okay. We’re just going to… give you some pointers and tips. We’re going to help you reel him in!”

Just as I open my mouth to protest, Amanda inhales sharply. “Oh god, Wimbledon!” She jumps up and this time she really does knock her soda over. “If you were with him the whole day, you’re probably all over the internet already.”

My insides clench painfully and I’m shocked into silence. I hadn’t even thought of that. I’m not comfortable with my photograph being splashed everywhere. I remember how hounded Kate was when she was dating Will and I don’t know if I can deal with that. Harry and I aren’t even dating! We’re just hanging out, that’s it.

“Come on then,” Jeanette grabs me by the hand and hoists me up. As she tugs me forward, I nearly faceplant into the sand, but she keeps me upright as she practically sprints into the cottage.

Amanda is already seated at the kitchen table, her laptop open and connecting to the internet. Jeanette lets go of me and throws herself into the chair next to our friend as she pulls up a search engine.

I watch with baited breath as she types in ‘Prince Harry, Wimbledon 2011’ into the box and hits enter. The search takes less than two seconds and my heart flutters anxiously in my chest as I recognize the photographs from only just yesterday.

There are some of him outside of the arena, waving at the photographers and there are a few of him speaking with some people that I don’t recognize. There’s even one of him clapping during a match, except it’s cropped close so I’m not in the frame.

And then Amanda screams at the top of her lungs and jabs her finger at the screen. There’s a photograph of Harry walking through what appears to be the food kiosks at Wimbledon. His head is turned, so he’s obviously unaware that his picture is being taken, and there, in the background and just behind him, is me.

My head is bowed and the strands of hair that aren’t pulled into my braid are moving slightly in the wind. My sunglasses are on, effectively covering most of my face, and I’m smiling so widely that it looks a tiny bit painful.

And the next photograph is one of Harry holding open the door of the Baseline Restaurant and me stepping in ahead of him. I’m in mid-stride, halfway into the restaurant, but my head’s turned and my face is clearly visible. And then my gaze drops down to the hand that is firmly clasped up in Prince Harry’s own before I look at my friends and realize that they’re both wearing identical, shit-eating grins.