The Thrill Is Gone

“Bloody hell . . .” Olivia whispered in disbelief. “You’re not messing about, are you? I reckon you mustn’t be. This isn’t the sort of thing to joke about with, but it’s . . . not to say it’s absurd or anything like that, because it’s not. It’s only natural that she wants to spend more time with you, what with how things are going between you and Harry, but still. It’s a bit odd. Honest, it is. And I can’t help but wonder if it’s true. Not that I don’t believe you, of course,” she added, hastily. “It’s only that – well, I can’t help but remember how things used to be between you and Her Majesty. Things were horrid between the pair of you for so long. I remember you telling us that she wasn’t the least bit pleased with you, and that you weren’t keen on her.”

“I wasn’t.” Paulina wasn’t going to shy away from the truth. There’d been a few drunken nights in which she’d rambled to Olivia and Alfred about how much of a cunt the Queen was for calling her an American tart and a gold digger. “She fucking hated me.”

“Exactly!” said Olivia, much louder than she’d wanted. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I’d just won the bloody lottery, but yeah, you two were bloody awful towards each other. And now . . . now, you’ve gone from being the American Tart to being Her Majesty’s riding companion!”

“Come on, Via. It’s not as exciting as all that.” Paulina was trying to laugh it off. She wanted to seem cool about the matter, unaffected, but the truth was that she was giddy as hell. The Queen had never invited her to stay before. She’d invited her for tea and lunch, but never anything more intimate. “And to be honest, I’m not even her riding companion.”

“Of course you are.” Olivia stated. “You’ve only just said that she’s invited you to ride and hunt.”

“She’s invited me to have a go at it.” Paulina clarified. “But I don’t know how that’s gonna work out when I can’t even mount a damn horse. I mean, I’m good about getting near them. With that, I’ve got no trouble, but fucking mounting them is another story. And I . . . well, I’m kind of afraid that I just don’t have that in me.”

“You do!” exclaimed Olivia. “And even if you don’t, you’ve got to force yourself to have it in you.” She let out a sigh. “Honestly Paulin, this isn’t the sort of opportunity that comes around often. Her Majesty doesn’t just invite anyone to ride. She’s quite picky about that sort of thing. At least, I imagine her to be, given the fact that she’s the bloody Queen! She’s not obligated to have people over. Well, that is to say, I imagine she’s advised to have certain diplomats over every once in awhile, whenever the UK’s trying to get chummy with that other country, but when it comes to private citizens – the sort like you and me and Alfie and even the titled ones – well, there’s no one advising her to extend an invitation. She only extends them when she sees fit. And she’s seen fit with you.”

“I know she has.” Paulina was amused by the alteration in Olivia. The petite blonde was acting as if the Queen had extended the invitation to herself, instead of to her best friend. “I was there when she did it.”

“Very funny,” muttered Olivia, clearly unamused. “Joke about this all you want, but it’s no laughing matter. When the time comes for you to stay with the Queen, you’ll have to put on a stiff upper lip and get on with it.”

Olivia knew she must’ve sounded mad. There she was, acting as if it were a matter of life or death, an issue of the upmost importance, and while it wasn’t exactly a matter of state or something that most people would even pay any mind to, it was still terribly important to the petite blonde. Olivia was a royal watcher, always had been, always would be. She was incredibly passionate about the British Royal Family. She and her mother collected important news clippings regarding them. In fact, even Olivia’s grandmother had a neat stack of clippings from the early days of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. Her family was very much a family of royalist, and while Olivia was passionate about the monarchy, she was even more passionate about her friend becoming a member of the royal family.

Her passion didn’t stem from her desire of a royal connection. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. She was passionate because she adored Harry and Paulina as a couple, and more than anything, she wanted for them to be wed and to have children in the near future. So to that end, Olivia wanted to advise Paulina. She wanted things to work out between them, because if they did, then that would mean that Paulina would live in England and their friendship would certainly go back to being what it’d been during university. They would be able to see each other more frequently, to laugh over drinks and go out for lunch, sure there would be instances in which they’d be to busy to do so, but there’d be a lot more moments in which they’d be able to, and Olivia wanted that. She wanted to be able to have her best friend close by, and to see her best friend happily married. Because if there was one thing that Olivia wanted it was to see Prince Harry happy with Paulina. Ever since his mother died, Olivia felt sorry for him. She felt that he’d lost a truly a fantastic woman, but now life was giving him another one, and she hoped that he wouldn’t lose her as well.

“If I didn’t know any better,” spoke Paulina, with a sly smile on her lips, “I‘d say that you were the one the Queen invited to stay.”

“Don’t be daft!” Olivia blushed furiously. “I’m only trying to help, but if you don’t want my help then bugger off.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me to bugger off before!” Paulina feigned hurt. “It’s alright though, I forgive you.”

“You’re such a massive prat.” Olivia mumbled.

“Perhaps,” said Paulina, grinning. “But you love me! So get over here and give me a hug.”

“No.” Olivia wasn’t really upset, but she felt like playing the part a bit. “Not with you teasing me about.”

“Is that so? Hmm, well I reckon my ass is gonna have to go over there and give you a hug.” Paulina abandoned her seat on the couch and walked over to the armchair where Olivia sat. Since there was no room to sit beside her, Paulina sat on Olivia’s lap. “You’re a lot less comfortable than I remember.”

“That’s because you were always off your face whenever ya ended up on my lap.”

“Not even!” exclaimed Paulina, though in fact, it was very much the truth. “You’re just trying to soil my good name.”

Olivia couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter. Her eyes crinkled at the side, revealing lines that hadn’t been there during their time at university.

“You’re mental!” Olivia managed to say between her laughter.

“All the best people are,” was Paulina’s reply. “Now, about that hug.” She embraced Olivia tightly and placed a kiss on her cheek for good measure. “When’s Alfie getting here?”

“You asked that, five minutes ago.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t remember.”

“And ya know why you can’t remember? Because of all that smoking you and Alfie got up to at uni.” Despite having been around for the smoking sessions, Olivia had never engaged in them. “How you two managed to get on so well is beyond me. I wouldn’t have managed to do anything if I’d been smoking about like you lot.”

“That’s because you’re not as rad as Alfie and I.” Paulina stated, simply. “And it’s not like we were smoking all the time, just when we didn’t have any papers due. Anyway though, I haven’t smoked in ages, had to give it up because of the fucking press.” She stood from her place on Olivia’s lap and returned to her former seat. “One day, I’ll be able to smoke out again and it’ll be grand.”

“I don’t reckon you’ll ever be able to smoke again.” Olivia was quite sure of that. “You’ll either be a Duchess or a Senator, there’ll be even more press to deal with.”

Paulina furrowed her brow in contemplation. “Fuck it. I’ll settle for just being able to smoke out one last time. That’d be enough for me.” She paused. “Do you know if Alfie still smokes? I know he said that he quite for awhile, but I don’t know if he started up again.”

“He did.” Olivia informed her. “Though not as often as at uni. I reckon his workload keeps him from smoking as much as he’d like, though he’s told me that when he retires, he plans to smoke rather excessively.”

“And you’ll be alright with that?” asked Paulina, slyly.

“As long as he does it outside the house it’ll be fine. I imagine we’ll have a shed where he’ll –”

“There’s gonna be a shed?” Paulina tried her best to not seem overly amused. “I take it that means you’ll keep a house in the country; somewhere close enough to London to commute, but far enough to have a quieter pace of life.”

Olivia didn’t say anything. She was too busy covering her face in embarrassment.

“Why you hiding?” asked Paulina. “Honestly, it’s just me!”

“It’s bloody embarrassing . . .” mumbled Olivia. “We’ve not even been together long enough to be talking about moving in and having a proper home, and yet here I am, going on about what it’ll be like when we’ve retired.”

“Not even,” said Paulina. “You and Alfie are as good as married. You’ve been as good as married since Oxford so go ahead talk about the future all you want. Just make sure to let me tease you a little.” She smiled brightly at Olivia. “Now, to my original question, when’s Alfie getting in?”

Olivia glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t be long now, I reckon only fifteen or so more minutes.”

“It won’t be hours then?”

“No.” Olivia shook her head. “They only needed him to go to the office to sort a few things out, but he’ll be back soon enough. He wasn’t even meant to be there today. He’d asked for the day off so he could spend it with us, and they’d given it to him, but then one of those blokes he works with made a mess of a few files that he and Alfie had been working on, so Alfie had to go in.”

“He must’ve been pissed.”

“He was.” Olivia said. “He practically spent his entire night at the office, finishing up the files so that all George would have to do was give them a quick look over and have them printed and bounded, but apparently he found a way to muck it up. That George is always mucking things up.”

“Is he new?” was the only question that came to Paulina’s mind.

“Not new, no,” Olivia replied. “He’s been there for ages. He’s just not any good.”

“Then why keep him?”

“His father’s on the board.” Olivia explained. “And you know how that is. It doesn’t matter whether or not the person is competent, they’re simply kept around to please the one in charge, and it’s a shame, because Alfie could do everything so much quicker without that dead weight, but he’s stuck with him for a little while longer.”

“Hopefully not much longer,” said Paulina. “The job’s stressful enough without having to constantly cover for someone else.” She paused. “Speaking of work, how are things at the hospital?”

“Exhausting,” answered Olivia. “Up until a week ago, I’d been working the night shift for three months straight. And you’d think it’d be quiet at night, but no, not at all quiet. It seems like every baby’s holding out until after midnight to be born. And then I’ve got to scurry about with them, and it’s exhausting, but it’s fantastic at the same time.”

“It must be,” said Paulina. “I mean, I know it’s probably gross because the babies are all covered in fluids and stuff, but even then, I feel like it must be really beautiful to be able to witness their birth and that first moment when they’re put into their mom’s arms. That must be rad.”

“It is.” That was what Olivia loved most about her job. “I adore seeing the mums with their babies, because they’ve quite literally just been through hell to get them out. They’re been pushing and screaming, some of them have gone through a cesarean, and yet, when they see their baby, it’s like they’ve forgotten all about the pain. They’re so caught up in their happiness that they’re completely unaware of the pain that their bits are going through.” She paused before going onto say, “I reckon that’s how we’ll be when we get around to that.”

“Not for another ten years,” said Paulina, hastily.

“Ten? You’ll be far too old then!”

“I’ll be 35. That’s a good age to start having babies.” Paulina argued. “Why? What age are you planning on?”

“If you must know, I’m thinking somewhere around thirty.” A blush began to creep onto Olivia’s face. “Perhaps a bit younger if Alfie and I . . .”

“Get married young?”

Olivia nodded. “Though to be honest, I don’t think that’ll happen. He’s quite keen on being able to have enough saved up for a proper home. He says he doesn’t want to touch his inheritance, he wants to do it on his own so we’ve at least another three or so years before that.”

“That’s not so long.”

“It only sounds like it is,” said Olivia. “The time will go quickly though. What were we talking about before we started going on about babies?”

“You were mentioning how you’d been stuck with the night shift for three months.”

“Those were the three longest months of my life.” Olivia stated. “But thankfully, I’ve been moved to an earlier shift. Now I don’t have to be up all bloody night anymore.”

“That must’ve been hell, especially since you have little sisters at the house, and it’s not like they’re gonna be quiet all day.”

“That was the worst of it.” Olivia scrunched her nose at the memories. “Collette was always running around the house with her mates. And it’s not like I could say anything, because she’s on holiday from school and she’s meant to be doing that, but still, it was a pain. Like I said though, it’s over with and now I’ve an earlier shift and I’m very much pleased. How are things going for you though? How’s uni treating you? And work?”

“Things are going well. Uh, school’s a pain in the ass, but that’s nothing new. As for work, it’s going great. Professor Warren offered me the position as her research assistant for next year, so I’ve got that going on. And then, well this is dependent on legislation getting passed, but if it does get passed, then I’m going to be her personal assistant while she sets up the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.”

“Is she to be in charge of it?” inquired Olivia.

“Kind of,” replied Paulina, “But not technically. That is to say, she’ll be in charge of implementing the legislation and setting up the CFPB, but she won’t be the director or anything like that. She’ll be acting as a special assistant to the President, so it’ll be a favor to him. There are already people that are upset that she might be in charge of setting up the CFPB, because she’s not one for turning a blind eye to the banks, she’ll actually implement regulations so there are people that are hoping she won’t be the one to set up the bureau, but if it passes, it’s going to be hers to bring to life. And since I’m her personal assistant that means that I’ll get to spend more time in Washington.”

“Hold on a moment. Did I hear right? Did you just say that she’s to be the special assistant to the President? As in President Obama?” despite not being one for politics, Olivia had been swept up by the charm of the current American president. He was handsome, eloquent, and she found all his talk of change and hope, to be rather inspirational.

“You did.” Paulina said, nodding along. “She’s close to him.”

“But how?” questioned Olivia. “She’s a professor!”

“She’s a leading expert in her field.” Paulina clarified. “And she’s constantly being called before committees in Congress to testify. So she met him through that avenue, but she’s also really good friends with the Kennedys. She and Senator Kennedy were really close, and since he played such an important part in President Obama’s campaign, he kind of brought them closer.”

“Bloody hell, it sounds like he had a knack for bringing people together.”

“He did.” Paulina agreed. “I think it was his way of ensuring that the people he liked were surrounded by good people and well looked after.”

“That’s why you’re working for Warren.” Olivia sat back in her seat. “And I reckon it won’t be long before you’re in the President’s company.”

“I was actually supposed to meet him a couple weeks back.”

“You what?” cried Olivia.

“It wasn’t anything formal,” said Paulina. “I was just going to accompany Professor Warren to the White House for a meeting that she had with him, and who knows, I might not have even been able to meet him since I’m just an assistant, but she’d wanted to introduce me.”

“Then why didn’t ya meet him? Was he arrogant? Please don’t tell me that he was full of himself. He seems so lovely on the teli.”

“It’s not like that. He just had to cancel the meeting because something came up that needed his immediate attention.”

“Oh okay.” Olivia sighed in relief. “It’s good to hear that he hadn’t been a prat, because I always hate when you’re going about, thinking someone’s all sorts of lovely, and then they turn out to be a massive prat.”

“Same here, but I think he’ll be nice.” Paulina truly did mean that. “Senator Kennedy always spoke very well of him, and Francis and Bobby said –”

“And they are?” Olivia had never before heard mention of Bobby and Francis.

“What?”

“That Francis and Bobby that you’ve mentioned,” replied Olivia. “Who are they?”

“I haven’t talked about them before? I could’ve sworn I had.” Paulina pressed her lips together, losing herself in her thoughts. “I feel like I’ve mentioned them, then again, it’s a recent thing and there was a bunch of other stuff going on . . .” Other stuff, that was how she’d chosen to refer to the break up that no one knew about. “Hmm . . . well, I guess I haven’t told you about them, but there’s honestly not much to tell. It’s not like we’re best friends or anything. We’re more along the lines of acquaintances that are becoming more intimate. Wait. No. That sounds wrong, kind of pervy, but there’s nothing perverse going on. I just – I think that it’s on a path to being intimate acquaintances and then eventually, being friends. That’s what everything’s sort of pointing at. I mean, I’ve had dinner with them twice. The first time, it wasn’t planned but it just sort of happened and then we grab dinner like a few days before I flew out to England, so yeah.”

“You do realize you’ve not answered my question?” Olivia spoke.

“I haven’t?” was Paulina’s response.

“Ya just rambled on about who they are in relation to you, but not who they are.” Olivia replied with an amused little smile.

“Oh yeah,” Paulina smiled out of embarrassment. “I can’t believe I went on a long ass ramble and forgot to say who they are. No matter though. I’m always one for rambling, but anyway, Bobby is Senator Kennedy’s nephew.”

“So he’s our age?”

“He’s older than us, way older.” Paulina said. “He’s actually in his early fifties, but he’s a really interesting person. We’ve got a lot of similar values and political beliefs, so I get to discuss policy with him and it’s great. There are, of course, a few things that we don’t see eye to eye on, but the few times that I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with him, it’s been fantastic. As for Francis, he is around our age. He’s just a couple of years older than us.”

“Is he also a Kennedy?” inquired Olivia.

Paulina nodded. “He’s Senator Kennedy’s youngest kid.”

“They’re all Kennedys? That’s fantastic!” Olivia was pleased for her friend. She knew how much she adored the Kennedys and looked up to them. “And how did this go about? Did Senator Kennedy tell them to meet with you?”

“He did, but that wasn’t how we met.” Paulina wasn’t going to tell Olivia about the fact that she’d gotten into a fight with Harry shortly before having gone down to dinner where she eventually met the Kennedys. That part of the story would be left out. “I was accompanying Professor Warren in Washington, and she set me up with a fancy dinner while she was off on business. And I was just sitting there by myself, when Francis just showed up at my table. Well, I guess I have to explain why it was that he just walked up. The thing is that a few drinks were sent to my table, and I didn’t accept any because you know how it is, you accept someone’s drink and then they’ll come over, and I was tired so I didn’t want to have to deal with that. So I kept sending the drinks back and unbeknownst to me, Francis and Bobby and Ted (whose Senator Kennedy’s eldest son) had sent me a drink. And I guess that Francis figured out why I wasn’t accepting the drinks, and he bought a bottle and then took the bottle to my table so he could introduce himself, and somehow or another, I moved to his table and had dinner with the three of them. It was fucking random, but it was good. I mean, I enjoyed it. It was a good night out. And then, we met up again a little while before I flew out here, and even Henry got a chance to meet them.”

“And how’d it go? Was he as taken with them as you are?”

“He got on well.” It was a half truth. Harry had gotten on well with Bobby. It was Francis that he couldn’t stand. “And they liked him too.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. And I’m not just saying it to say. I truly am pleased that things are going so brilliantly, especially between you and Harry. I mean, what happened in April gave us a quite a fright. Alfie and I . . . well, we worried. It was awful seeing those vile things plastered on the tabloids.” Her voice grew softer, as if she were afraid to be overheard. “When I saw that last one, I wanted nothing more than to drive up to Clarence House so that I could give him a sound telling off. Honest, I did. I even told Alfie about it, but he said we ought to concern ourselves with you first. Though to be honest, I think Alfie wanted to have a go at Harry. He was absolutely furious when he found out.”

“Well I’m glad he didn’t do anything.” Paulina said. “Because knowing Alfred, he would’ve challenged Henry to a duel.”

“That does sound like something he’d do.” Olivia chuckled, softly. “He’s such a nutter when it comes to those things, but it’s adorable. He has these old fashioned values and ideals and he’s chivalrous and just so . . . so lovely.” For a moment she lost herself in the memories she’d made with Alfred, but then the moment passed and she was left feeling like a dunce. And more than that, she was left remembering the promise she’d made to Alfred. “Oh no!” she bellowed, coloring slightly.

‘What happened?” asked Paulina, concerned.

“I wasn’t meant to bring up April.” Olivia explained, hastily. “He made me promise that I wouldn’t, kept going on about how it ought to be avoided since you didn’t sound like you wanted to have a proper chat over it, but I couldn’t help but bring it up just now. And I’m sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “But since I was a dunce that brought it up, could you please not mention it?”

“I won’t.” Paulina promised. “Even though I really don’t think promising not to talk about it to me, was necessary. It’s not like I was going to burst into tears at the mention of it.”

“That’s what I told him, but you know how Alfred is when it comes to those he cares for. He’d go through hell and back to ensure that they’re well looked after and unbothered.”

“That’s what makes him so sweet.” Paulina commented. “Well, when he wants to be.”

“Otherwise he’s just a massive prat,” said Olivia, chuckling slightly. “You’ve no idea how many people think he’s a twat. On second thought, you do. You were at lectures with him in uni.”

“He was impossible.” Paulina spoke, smiling at the memory. “I remember he was always giving everyone the stink eye. Well, it wasn’t actually the stink eye, but he just had this look that made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want to be bothered by anyone. So no one went up to him, except me, of course. And the only reason I went up to him was because his bitchy look reminded me of Rafa’s.”

“Bitchy look?” repeated Olivia, giggling lightly.

“Oh yeah,” said Paulina. “He had a massive bitch face. And he knows it. I used to tease him about it all the time. I think that’s why he stopped looking so pissed off, now he only looked unamused.”

“So I’ve you to thank for that look?”

“It’s a hell of a lot better than the bitchy look that he used to sport.” Paulina laughed. “And you know it.”

“But I don’t.” Olivia chuckled. “I never saw it.”

“Well when he gets home, I’ll ask him to do it.”

“Will you?”

Paulina nodded. “He’ll probably throw a pillow at me, but it’ll be worth it.”

“As long as it’s not one of the embroidered pillows,” mumbled Olivia.

“Wait. What?” Paulina nearly laughed. “Alfie has embroidered pillows? As in hand made?”

“What other kind is there?” said Olivia. “And why’s that such a shock?”

“Because he’s a bloke,” stated Paulina. She couldn’t imagine any man that went out and bought hand made embroidered pillows. She was about to tell Olivia that, but then it dawned on her that the pillows were probably embroidered by Olivia. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You made them! I didn’t know you embroider. Since when do you embroider?”

“Since always,” replied Olivia. “My Gran taught me when I was little. It was one of the few things we really did together, so from time to time, I embroider. Not that often though, since it takes so bloody long, but I decided that since Alfie had gotten a new flat, that it was only right that I make him a few pillows to commemorate it.”

A few weeks earlier, in the middle of April, Alfred moved out of the flat he shared with Charlotte. He hadn’t intended to move out of the flat, not until later in the future when he and Olivia started looking for a home of their own, but living on a day to day basis with Charlotte had proved too much for him. There were only so much of her late night antics that he could put up with, only so many times that he could stand to hear her in the next room over having very loud shags with strangers, as well as throwing parties with her fellow socialite friends. He put up with it for nearly a year, but in the end, he felt that he had no other choice than to vacate the flat that their parents provided them.

That was a decision that was met with fierce opposition by his parents. They called him a fool for even contemplating moving out. To them, there was no point in his throwing money away on rent when they provided him with a furnished flat in Marylebone. They didn’t see the point in his leaving behind such a fashionable and wealthy area. It was ideally furnished, ideally situated, and ideal for a young man of his status, but Alfred didn’t see it like that. While it was true that he had all the amenities he could ever want, the flat lacked the tranquility that he so desperately desired. He worked forty hours a week at Barclays, sometimes more, and since he had to wake at the crack of dawn in order to get ready for a day at the office, he couldn’t stand to lose sleep. It was difficult enough having to go through legal contracts and having to draw them up for corporate mergers and trusts, but to do it on three hours of sleep was even harder. And for the sake of his sanity, he moved out.

Alfred didn’t care what his parents thought out his decision. He was a grown man that was going to lead his life as he saw fit, and he saw fit to move to an entirely different borough, into a somewhat cramped two floor home that was located on a very middle class residential street. His mother nearly had a heart attack when he informed her of where he was to live, and while his father didn’t go into hysterics, he did stress to Alfred the importance of living in a respectable home. Mr. Ferrars even went so far as to imply that Alfred’s decision to continue living there could have an adverse effect on what he would inherit in the future. The Ferrars family, while having no title, was in possession of a large country house in Somerset, as well as a very respectable home in Belgravia. It was always intended for Alfred to inherit the estate in Somerset. His parents believed him to be the better of their two children. It was he that would manage the finances and keep the estate on track, but they felt that if he wasn’t going to cooperate and do as he was told, they would have to nudge their daughter in the direction of the younger son of a titled gentleman, so that they could ensure the estate would be properly run. They knew it wouldn’t be a truly difficult task, Charlotte was a smart, sensible young woman that understood the importance of such a connection and with the Ferrars being as wealthy as they were, it would be a good match for any younger son of a titled gentleman, but despite that, they didn’t want to have to go with that option.

They were of the thought that everything would be better if Alfred took the reigns. That way the Ferrars name would continue through him, but the problem was that Alfred wasn’t like them. He wasn’t taken by money or connections. He’d been raised in their homes, but he’d never been raised by them. They weren’t his role models, a working class nanny was. As such, Alfred wasn’t going to be swayed by their threats. If they wanted to bequeath the estate to Charlotte, then so be it, he had a means to support himself, he had a trust that he would have access to on his thirtieth birthday. He was well taken care of, and if he was to be honest, he was looking for a way to get out of Barclays. He had a high paying position there, courtesy of the family connections, but what he wanted more than anything was to work for the government. His income would be considerably lower, he was well aware of that, but he would be able to help the government agency regulate the big British banks, and that was what he wanted in on. That way he could do a bit of good, but for now he contented himself by learning the ways of Barclays, so that one day he could use that to aid the government.

It wasn’t long after Olivia and Paulina got on the topic of embroidery that Alfred stepped into his home. He no longer looked the part of the bearded philosopher. There was no beard or mustache or stubble present on his face. He had to look the part of a well groomed young man, and as such, his hair was neatly combed, his face was clean shaven and he wore a suit in which he looked terribly uncomfortable.

“You look like a petulant toddler in his Sunday best.” Paulina teased when she saw him.

“And you’ve not seen me with the tie on.” He said as he stepped closer to her. “They make us wear ties every bloody day, and it feels like I’m being choked to death! That’s why I make a habit of taking it off as soon as I leave the office.”

“A very sensible habit that prevents your death from asphyxiation,” said Paulina with a smile on her face. “Though to be honest, I would love to see you in a tie.”

“Maybe the next time you come to stay.”

“Alright then, the next time I come to stay, you’ll put on a tie for me, and I’ll bake you something to make it worth the trouble.”

“See this is why we get on so well.” He smiled brightly. “It’s great seeing you again. Well, seeing you in person. We’ve seen lots of pictures of you lately, running about.”

“Did you see the one of me in the Radiohead shirt?” she asked.

“Yes! And I’ve meant to have a few words regarding that.” He set down his briefcase. “That’s my shirt, isn’t it? I lost it ages ago at your flat and you said you never found it.”

“I lied.” Paulina smirked. “It’s a fucking rad shirt and the design went out of print.”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed.

“You’re not getting it back.” She told him. “I’ve claimed it.”

“And I’ll very well claim it back.” He was joking of course. He had no interest in getting it back. She’d had it in her possession for well over two years. “Unless of course, you make me a fruit tart, then I could be persuaded to forget.”

“Then I’ll make you some tarts while we’re on holiday. And by the way, thanks for inviting us. It’ll be rad to be all together out there. And I know Henry’s very much looking forward to it.”

Alfred’s smile momentarily faltered at the mention of Harry. He still hadn’t forgiven him for what he put Paulina through. Those bloody pictures of him surrounded by socialites had upset him, but he wasn’t going to say anything, he’d made a promise to himself.

“Via and I are looking forward to it as well. We’ve missed you quite a bit.”

“So have I.” Paulina assured. “Now, are we gonna keep standing around or are you gonna give me a hug?”

Alfred chuckled. “You’re mental, you are.”

“Does that mean I’m not getting a hug?” she questioned. “Because if I came all this way, I expect to get a damn hug!” she exclaimed.

“Of course you’re getting a damn hug, you nutter. Now get over here.” He opened his arms, and Paulina practically pounced on him. “I’d forgotten how annoying you could be.”

“Always such a charmer,” she mumbled into his chest. When she pulled away, she stared up at him with a massive grin on her face. “See, this is why you’re a gentleman that drives around in a barouche.”

“I thought you’d forgotten all about the barouche.” Alfred clearly remembered all the times she’d teased him about it.

“Forget the barouche?” Paulina shook her head as if it were the most heinous thing she’d ever heard. “I would sooner forget my name! Don’t you know that you’re a gentleman that rides a barouche and will one day have a very lovely wife named –?”

“Oi!” bellowed Alfred, blushing furiously.

“Don’t get so worked up, she’s in the bathroom.” Paulina patted his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have said it if she was in here, and just so you know, when what you’re planning on happening finally happens, you better have a barouche to take you to the reception hall, or else I’ll be very disappointed.”

“So I’m going to have to hire a barouche to please you?”

“Not just for me, Olivia will like it too. It’s a win-win, really.” She scrunched her nose at him, knowing that never failed to annoy him. “Now that we’ve settled the barouche issue, I just want to say that your place is rad.”

“Thank you so much.” Alfred was glad to hear she approved. “But it’s not quite finished yet. I mean to make a few improvements.”

“To what rooms?” inquired Paulina.

“The kitchen, mostly,” Alfred replied. “I know it doesn’t very well make sense since I’m lacking in culinary abilities, but Olivia’s been cooking and I’ve noticed that –”

“What?” Paulina couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“Olivia’s been cooking rather often.” Alfred stated, quite proudly. “She’s been learning from her mum, and even taking a course or two at the community center near her home so she’s getting along brilliantly. And I want to fix the kitchen up so she’ll have a better space to work with. It won’t be anything grand, of course. Since I’m only leasing. I don’t intend to put granite or any of that, but I would like to replace the stove, as well as the sink, a larger sink would do well. And I want to change the light fixtures and add tile since the hardwood floor isn’t all that practical for a kitchen, but it’s not much, not truly.”

“You’re gonna renovate the entire thing. All that’s missing from your plan are the cabinets.”

“I’ve already seen to those.” Alfred told her. “I painted them. Wait. Is painted the right word? I don’t believe it is. No matter, I sanded them down and then put a different stain, a darker stain on them that goes quite well with the color that Olivia and I painted the walls. Have you seen the kitchen yet?”

“I have, and the cabinets look great.”

“It was quite a bit of work getting them right, but Olivia and I managed.”

“That’s because you two are such a good team.” Paulina teased. “And by the way, I love your embroidered pillows.”

“Laugh all you like, but it won’t be long before you’ve embroidered pillows of your own. I reckon the Queen will have you doing so soon enough, and then I’ll tease you about your embroidered pillows.”

“Doubt it’ll happen, but if it does, feel free to tease.” Paulina ran a hand through her curls. “So where are we going for lunch? Olivia said to dress normal, so I came like this and she’s in jeans as well, but you’re in a suit.”

“I’ll be out of it soon as I can.” He assured. “I only wear these bloody things for work.” He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. “Is it alright if I make a run to get changed? I want to be out quick as I can so we can have at drinks and all that.”

“Go for it, I’ll wait right here.”

“Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen if ya like. I’ll only be a moment, and I’m sure Olivia won’t be gone to long.”

With that said, Alfred went upstairs to his master bedroom. It wasn’t anywhere near as spacious as his previous bedroom had been. There was no walk in closet or balcony that seated three, there wasn’t even enough space for his desk and bookshelves, but despite that, he was content.

To him, it didn’t matter that he no longer had a balcony or walk in closet that was the size of his current kitchen. He’d never spent much time out on the balcony. It was far too bright and noisy. He preferred to have a lie down on the couch with a favorite novel. And as for the walk in closet, well, he’d never really had much in there. If he was to be perfectly honest, he’d only ever managed to fill about twenty percent of the closet, the rest was empty. His old bedroom had been spacious, but lacking. It was the idea of what some other person thought a room ought to look like, but now Alfred had set up his own room, there’d been no parental input on the matter. His bedroom was his entirely, and whenever he stepped inside, he couldn’t help but smile and nod his head in approval.

And that was precisely what he did when he entered his bedroom on that particular afternoon. He took a moment to look about, to admire his sanctuary, and then, feeling satisfied, he proceeded to undress. He was quick to get out of his suit, glad to be rid of the overpriced costume his profession required him to wear. He didn’t even bother putting the suit into the hamper, he let it lay there as a crumpled mess, and redirected his attention to his dresser from which he pulled out a pair of jeans, along with a simple t-shirt and a jumper. He wasn’t aiming to be sharply dress. They’d decided on a laid back restaurant to ensure that they wouldn’t have to look extremely well put together. The trio had decided against dressing up and parading around. They did enough of that with other people, so they resolved to dress comfortably, as if they were at uni.

Alfred didn’t take long getting dressed. Shortly after having ventured upstairs, he emerged into the living room where Olivia was telling Paulina about the restaurant they were to eat at. It was a family owned Mediterranean establishment that was a few blocks away, an easy walking distance, even with a slew of photographers following them around. The restaurant in question had an emphasis on seafood, particularly fish, but despite being known in the neighborhood for having the best seafood dishes in the entire borough. It was also known for its delicious poultry dishes, and Paulina was pleased by that. She had no trouble eating at a place that specialized in seafood as long as there was a chicken option somewhere on the menu.

Not long after Alfred entered the living room, the trio made their way outside. Each was weary of what was to come. They didn’t like dealing with the press, Olivia had a particularly difficult time with it. They made her feel claustrophobic, as if she was being submerged by the sea of photographers that followed them around, and on one occasion, she had been knocked onto the ground by an overly zealous photographer that wanted to get a high earning shot of Paulina. It was because of that incident that Paulina told her friends that she would walk ahead. They were to give her a three minute head start in which she would lead the photographers away from the house, thus allowing Olivia and Alfred to have a calmer walk to the restaurant. She expected that a photographer or two would hang back to see whether or not her friends would follow her. They would make an attempt at holding a private conversation with Alfred and Olivia, but the attempt would surely fail, and her friends would be left in peace.

“Remember to hang back,” she told them. “I know you keep telling me that it’s fine, but it’s not fine, Via.”

“But it is,” argued Olivia, she didn’t want special measures to be taken for her sake. “Honestly, last time it was only an accident. The photographer apologized.”

“He only apologized, because he didn’t want you to sue him.” Paulina knew that Olivia felt uncomfortable when people fussed over her. Olivia was always the one that fussed over others, she was the mother hen. It wasn’t meant to be the other way around. “Come on, just stay back with Alfred for a few minutes, it’ll be fine.”

“What about you though? You’ll be all alone!” cried Olivia. “I’m not about to let you walk out on your own, not with them waiting for you.”

“Olivia, I know you don’t like it when we fuss over you, because you like to be the one that fusses over us, but please just listen to me. Please.”

“Alfred, tell her that she’s mad.” Olivia demanded. “Tell her that we won’t stay behind!”

“I think she’s in the right.” Alfred knew that was going to upset her, but he had to say what he felt. “It’s best we stay back a bit.”

“But –” Olivia began.

“She’ll be fine, love.” He reassured her. “If anyone out of us knows how to deal with this, it’s her. She’s been at this for years. So please, let’s listen to her, because in regards to this, she does know best.”

Olivia remained silent for a moment, contemplating what had just been said, and then, she spoke, “Just because I’ll stay back that doesn’t mean I’ll be happy.”

“That’s alright.” Paulina grinned. “I’ll make it up to you. Who knows, maybe I’ll ask Zara to sign a picture for you?”

Olivia’s eyes went wide. Zara was her favorite female royal. Well, other than the Queen, and the late Princess Diana.

“I reckon I can live with that.” Olivia fought back a smile. “Now go on, and remember that the restaurant is called Tangier. It has a chalkboard just outside of it announcing the specials for the day, and Tangier is written in big bold letters on a window so you won’t miss it.”

“Chalkboard and Tangier in big letters – got it.” Paulina grabbed her sunglasses from her pocket, preparing herself to exit. “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

With her sunglasses in place, Paulina took in a deep breath and walked outside where a dozen photographers stood waiting. As soon as they saw her, they began to shout, asking her what her plans for the day were, what her friends thought of the rough path her relationship had gone through. They asked loads of questions, never tiring of shouting at her, and as usual, she remained silent. There’d only been two instances in which she’d ever addressed the photographers when they followed her. Once, had been when she told them that the day was far too beautiful to waste it following her, the other had been when the photographer knocked Olivia down, on that occasion, Paulina told him to get the hell out of there. She would’ve said worse had it not been for Olivia telling her to shut up, even after being knocked to the ground, Olivia was still looking out for her. That was why Paulina loved her so much. She was fiercely loyal and had a kind heart, the kindest she’d ever met. That was why she wanted to protect her, to walk ahead so her friends wouldn’t be bothered.

She didn’t want to inconvenience them anymore than she absolutely had to. The best thing for them would’ve been for her to cut ties with them. That way no one would bother them, but she was too selfish to give them up. She’d be their friend until they tired of the baggage that came with her, and if she was to be perfectly honest, she prayed they never would. Coming by friends was far too hard a thing for her. She couldn’t trust most people. After a year at Harvard, she’d only made two friends, Stephanie and Meredith. So she was protective of the few she had, and she was more than willing to brave the press alone if it meant that her friends would be spared the inconvenience.

“Paulina! Paulina!” cried out a photographer. “Where’s Prince Harry gone off to? Why’s he left you alone?”

“Has he gone off on an afternoon romp with one of those birds he used to be seen with?” shouted another, trying to provoke her. “Tell us, has he fallen back into his old ways? Are blondes back in favor?”

“Does that mean you’ll be a blonde soon?” inquired another photographer.

The absurdity of it all was too much. Paulina knew for a fact that the photographers were well aware of Harry’s whereabouts. There’d been a crowd of them that followed him over to the building where his meeting was to take place. So everyone knew exactly where he was. There was no doubting his current location, but still they wanted to run at the mouth to try to get her worked up. They hoped that she’d snap, curse at them for a bit so they’d be able to have a good story for their respective tabloids, but there was none of that, the only response they elicited from her was laughter.

She laughed heartily, finding herself incapable of holding it back. They were just so stupid. Why the fuck would she dye her hair blonde? She’d make a horrible blonde. She didn’t have the complexion for it and her brothers would tease her to no end. There was no turning blonde for her, and she felt the photographers knew that, but they were so set on pissing her off that they were willing to say anything as long as it got a rise out of her.

“What’s the laughing about?” they shouted, surprised that that’d been her reaction. “Paulina, why the laughing?” they pressed, desperate for a response.

She made no reply, only kept laughing as she walked on. She knew her laughter infuriated them. They were irritated by her refusal to cooperate, and out of spite, they would surely print some ridiculous article that would ramble on about how she thought herself above them. They’d already done that several times before, but Paulina didn’t care. The tabloids could think what they wanted of her. They could take her laughter as a sign of contempt. That was, after all, what it was. She was laughing at their absurdity, at the stupidity of grown men and women that earned a living by stalking a twenty-five year old law student. To her, there was nothing more absurd than that. It was an idiotic profession to have, and she held the tabloids and their employees in contempt. They weren’t proper journalist, they weren’t making the world a better place by communicating the truth, half the time, they were knowingly printing lies, sending falsehoods into circulation. Paulina had no respect for people who did that for a living. They were scum, and she wouldn’t play into their little games. So she kept quiet, walked on, and not long after, she finally arrived at the restaurant.

Quick as she could, she power walked towards the door, eager to get inside the safety of the restaurant. The photographers followed her all the while, not wishing to part with her until it was absolutely necessary. As a result of that, they were quite literally inches behind Paulina, and when she opened the door to the small restaurant, the roar of the photographers echoed throughout the entire establishment. She could feel their gaze burning into her. They were all staring at her in wonder, trying to figure out what her presence meant. Was the prince to dine there as well? Would they be in the company of royalty? Those thoughts ran wildly through their minds as they stared at the dark curled young woman standing in the doorway. Her curls were let down, quite unruly, and she wasn’t in the fine dresses that they were so accustomed to seeing her in, in the papers. She was dressed normally, like one of them, and yet there was something in their air that called to mind the aristocracy.

Feeling unnerved by all the attention, but refusing to appear so, she smiled brightly, and in a light, friendly tone said, “Sorry about that. I meant to lose them down the road, but these short legs of mine can only do so much. It’s a pity they only come up to here, because if they came up to here,” she pointed to her waist, “I would’ve left them in the dust. Again though, sorry,” she apologized to the hostess, a young woman whom appeared to be in her late teens. “I know they’re not ideal to have around.”

“There’s no need to apologize, M-Miss,” assured the young hostess, nervously. “It’s quite alright, really.”

“The name’s Paulina,” she said, approaching the hostess. Paulina knew she would never win with the press, but she recognized the importance of being friendly and warm to the average person, their opinion of her mattered. That is to say, it would one day come to matter. “And thank you for beings so nice,” she glanced at the name tag, “Demetria. I really appreciate it.”

“We appreciate your being here.” Demetria wasn’t just saying that to say it, she truly meant it. The restaurant was going to be given free publicity, and just like all the other restaurants that Paulina ate at, it was going to receive a surge of new customers. “May I show you to your table? I can get a private one for you. It’s meant for a reservation for an Alfred, but I’m sure he would understand.”

“That’s actually my friend’s reservation.” Paulina was amused by the willingness Demetria showed in giving away Alfred’s reservation. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait right here a bit. They should be getting in soon. Would that be alright?”

“Yes!” Demetria said a bit louder than she’d intended. “I mean, yes, of course. If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

Paulina took a seat, her gaze firmly fixed on the collection of photographs that were mounted across the entry area. She could still hear the photographers shouting for her, begging her to turn and give them a smile, but she ignored them, as was only right. She was left alone until a stout looking man and a plump woman with a kind face approached her. They were the restaurants owners, the parents of Demetria, and they had come out to meet their guest. Paulina spoke warmly to them, praising their restaurant and speaking about how eager she was to get to eating. The compliments were well received, the middle aged couple were glad to have their restaurant spoken so well of, and they were even more glad that there were dozens of photographers taken pictures of their establishment.

Knowing very well the boom in business that such a visit would bring, the couple decided to commemorate it by having a picture taken. Although it wasn’t the first time that a restaurant owner asked Paulina for a picture, it still felt strange. That was the sort of thing that happened to celebrities and high profile politicians, but there she was, smiling into the camera as she was wedged between the smiling couple.

Not long after the impromptu photo shoot, Alfred and Olivia emerged through the entryway, looking incredibly disheveled. They’d quite literally had to force their way through the photographers who refused to move from the entryway. They were far to engrossed in snapping pictures of Paulina as she posed with the restaurant owners. It’d been so bad that Alfred nearly lost his temper and told them to get out of their bloody way, but thankfully for him, Olivia was there to keep him in line.

With the trio reunited, they were shown to a private table tucked away in the corner. The blinds by it had been drawn so as not to allow light to filter in through the outside dining area, and behind them was a solid wall that kept them from being seen, and to the right of the table, there was a divider that served for privacy and doubled as the walkway for waiters to enter the kitchen areas. It was altogether perfect for them.

“So what’s good here?” asked Paulina as she looked over the menu. “I was thinking about getting some chicken, but then I saw the grill lamb chops with the garlic, so now I’m conflicted.”

“I’m partial to the lamb.” Olivia said, her gaze never leaving the menu. “It’s absolutely delicious. Don’t get me wrong though, the chicken’s just as good, it’s only that I eat chicken almost everyday so when I go out, I like to have something else.”

“That’s a good point.” Paulina set down the menu. “I’ve been having nothing but chicken lately, the last few days have been a poultry frenzy, so I should definitely get the lamb. What are you guys getting?”

“The sea bass with tomato and black olive salsa,” replied Olivia, it was her favorite.

“And I’ll be having the lemon stuffed grilled Branzino.” Alfred set down his menu. “I know you’ll say no, but I think you ought to try it when they bring it out, there’s absolutely nothing like it.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“There’s always next time.” Alfred said, though he knew the chances of Paulina eating fish were practically nonexistent. “Who knows, maybe one day you’ll discover a love of fish.”

“That’ll probably be along the same time that I sit down for an interview with The Daily Mail or News of the World.”

“I’m pleased to hear it’ll be soon then.” Alfred knew that’d amuse her. “You’ll have to have a proper photo shoot with them, make sure they print the best shot on the front page.”

“Maybe I’ll even ask for you and Olivia to join it.” Paulina was trying hard not to smile.

Olivia was about to comment on how mad the pair of them was, but before she had a chance, the owners appeared at her table with a complimentary bottle of wine. Paulina thanked them for their attentiveness, but assured them that she didn’t need any preferential treatment. They took her words as a show of modesty, and as such, they wasted no time in opening the bottle and pouring her a drink.

Unable to politely refuse any further, she lifted the red wine to her lips. She forced herself to smile as the red wine made its way across her taste buds, giving the appearance that she’d genuinely enjoyed the drink that had been forced on her. She praised the wine’s taste as being both rich and lovely. Though in her opinion, it was quite the opposite. Paulina hated red wine. It was something that she avoided drinking at all costs, but out of politeness to the couple who’d gone out of their way to be amiable, she pretended to enjoy it.

The couple didn’t linger much after that. They had given the wine to their distinguished guest, and now felt comfortable in leaving her alone. It was shortly after they left that the waiter arrived to take the order. He was a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Demetria. It was obvious that he was her younger brother, but unlike his sister, the young man that stood before them was much more confident. He didn’t stutter when he addressed Paulina, he was attentive to her, but didn’t act as if she was the most important person in the entire world, and she appreciated that.

“Bloody hell,” whispered Alfred. “They were on the verge of curtseying to you.”

“Don’t be daft.” Paulina waved her arm, dismissing the claim. “They were just being nice.”

“They were being a great deal more than nice,” said Olivia. “It’s understandable though, given the circumstances. They probably think you’ll bring Harry around.”

“I most likely will.” Paulina shimmied out of her cardigan. “He loves seafood, so this’ll probably suit him. And it’s a lot better than having to cook the fish for him.”

“Speaking of fish, will you fix us some at Torquay?” inquired Olivia.

Paulina nodded. “There’ll be fresh fish around, so I’ll be cooking lots of it.”

“We’ll be looking forward to that then.” Alfred stated, leaning back in his seat. “I’m glad we could work out our schedules to get away. You’re always so bloody busy.”

“Not even.” Paulina wasn’t that busy. “Lately, I’ve been having the mornings and most of the afternoon’s to myself. It’s you guys that are busy with your adult careers.”

“You say that like we want to be working.” Olivia stated. “I love what I do, really, but if I could’ve had a go at another year at uni, I would’ve taken it. Life was so much simpler before.”

Alfred nodded in agreement. “It might’ve been stressful, but it was fantastic.”

“But now you two have to work.” Pauline reached for her water.

“And soon enough you’ll have to as well.” Alfred reminded. “Only two years left at uni.”

“Ugh,” groaned Paulina. “Don’t remind me. I’m trying to convince myself that I can stay indefinitely. Don’t get me wrong, I want to get properly involved in politics and all, but it’s just . . . the future is so fucking confusing. Whenever I think about it, I always end up getting headaches.”

“Well, we certainly don’t want you having a headache at lunch,” Olivia swept in, knowing Paulina didn’t want to pursue that subject any further. “So let’s have a chat about Doctor Who instead. I know you’ve still got a massive crush on Tennant, but I’m honestly fancying Matt Smith more than I ever did Tennant.”

They went on about Doctor Who until their food arrived. They each had their own opinions regarding the program and its characters. Paulina, though genuinely liking Smith, didn’t love him as much as she had Tennant. Olivia was mad about Smith and the latest regeneration of the Doctor, while Alfred, in a very Alfred fashion, stated that the best character on the entire program was Rory. They discussed the latest season and made plans to watch the last three episodes of the season, if time permitted. It was a good way to spend the fifteen minute wait that they had to endure for their food, and when the food arrived, they were all pleased to see what was on their plates.

And strangely enough, Paulina was pleased by what Alfred had on his. She’d expected to be turned off by the smell of the lemon stuffed Branzino or at the very least, by the sight of the dead fish, but she wasn’t. When the scent struck her, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and take it in, it was unlike anything she’d ever smelled before, and without even realizing it, her head began to turn in its direction.

“If the smell’s that bad, I can . . .” Alfred began to say, mistaking her reaction for that of disgust.

“It’s not bad,” said Paulina, surprising herself. “It smells . . . good.”

“Fucking hell,” whispered Alfred in disbelief. “Did you just say that it smells good?”

Paulina nodded. “Well, it does.”

“But you hate the smell of it.” Olivia chimed in.

“I do, usually,” said Paulina, awkwardly. “But I don’t know, I think they cook it right here. It just smells really good, like, sogood. And I don’t know.”

“If it smells so good, then go ahead, give it a try.” Alfred pushed his plate towards her.

“You sure?” asked Paulina.

“Nothing would please me more than to see you eat seafood, so go on, have at it.” Alfred had once tried to convince her to eat salmon, that instance resulted in her eating only the vegetables on the plate, well, the vegetables that hadn’t touched the fish.

Hesitantly, Paulina armed herself with a fork and knife, and proceeded to cut the fish. She was afraid that her allergies were going crazy and that the fish smelled good, but that it would end up tasting like crap, but when she placed the bit of Branzino, her taste buds went wild. She’d never been one for making sounds while she ate, she abhorred the slurps and yums that people made, but on that occasion, she couldn’t help it.

“Is it that good then?” asked an amused Olivia.

“Better than good,” she replied, setting down her fork. “This is what I should’ve ordered.”

“Well you can have it if you like.” Alfred offered. “I’m quite keen on lamb, so it’ll be fine.”

“Thanks Alfie, but I don’t want to take your food.”

“I insist.” He reached over and grabbed her original plate. “Go on, feast on Branzino.”

“Thanks!” she picked up her fork again. “But not a word of this to Henry, if he finds out I ate fish, he’ll try to get me to eat it again. Just yesterday he tried to get me to eat salmon at a restaurant we went to, but it smelled so gross. It still smelled like fish. This Branzino though, it’s so lemony and garlic-y and butter-y, it’s just so good.”

“And that’s why this place is so popular.” Alfred began to cut the lamb chops. “They do everything right, none of that messing about and experimenting like other places.”

“There’s no need to experiment.” Paulina said as she began to cut into the salmon. “Not when the food’s this good.”

The rest of lunch went by in a comfortable silence. They were all far too focused on their food to speak, and it was fine, the food was truly delectable, there was no arguing with that. And when they finished eating and paid the bill, Paulina walked out the front door. The owners had offered to let her slide out the back entrance, but she’d politely declined and asked them if her friends could be the one that exited via that route. The owners gladly complied, allowing Alfred and Olivia to slip away unbothered. And while they walked home in peace, Paulina braved the press as she always did.

“How was lunch?” they asked.

“When are ya to meet the prince?” they said.

She remained quiet all the while; her hands shoved into her pockets as she walked down the street. She’d been dealing with the press for nearly two years, but it was still so incredibly annoying. There were days when she wanted nothing more than to disappear off the face of the earth so she could have some bloody privacy, but there would be none of that. Her heart was firmly rooted in Harry, and she would endure the press for the sake of it.

Paulina was able to spend the next few hours at Alfred’s flat. They talked a lot, going on about work and life and programs they were obsessed with. It was a nice little time away from charity events and tea with royals, it was as normal as Paulina’s life in England could get. And she was glad to be there, if only for a few hours. She enjoyed her time with them, and when the time came to an end, Kamal picked her up. He drove her back to the home she was sharing with Harry, and once there, she began work on dinner. She knew Harry was going to be hungry when he got back. He’d asked her before he left for the meeting if she could please make him some enchiladas for when he returned, and that was precisely what she was going to do. She was content in cooking dinner for him and getting the house tidied up. She knew that some people would mock her, and say she was old fashioned, but she loved being able to be there to welcome home, even if their current home, wasn’t actually theirs. It was just nice to know that she’d be spending her evenings with him. They’d been apart for so long, she’d been to bed alone so many times that she was afraid they were going to lose their love, but they hadn’t. And now that they were back together, everything was on the mend.