The Thrill Is Gone

When Harry awoke that Wednesday morning, he didn’t find Paulina in the suite. All he found was a messily written note, which stated that she’d stepped out for a little while and would return before ten. He thought it odd that she’d wandered off on her own. Sure, she’d made a habit of going out on little strolls through Paris in the morning, but she’d been considerate enough to take those while he was asleep, she’d always made sure to be there when he woke. So why wasn’t the same true for Santa Barbara? Why had she gone off, and deemed it alright to not be in bed with him to share the first few moments of his day? There was a part of him that thought maybe she’d been invited out to breakfast by Maria Shriver or Gloria Allred and her daughter. They’d gotten on exceedingly well at the polo match, but he doubted that she’d gone to breakfast with them, because if she had, she would’ve told him in the note. That was just something Paulina would do. She was always very open with him, very communicative, so he didn’t understand why she didn’t state where it was she’d gone off to. She should’ve told him, but her note only said that she’d gone out and would be back before ten. That was it. And he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it.

He knew he probably sounded a little crazy. Paulina was a grown woman that could take care of herself, and knowing her, she’d probably taken one of the security details in order to abide by his wishes to have her properly looked after, but despite that, Harry didn’t feel well about her not being there. He had a feeling that something just wasn’t right with her. He couldn’t explain why he felt that way, but something in his heart told him that she wasn’t doing all that well, that he needed to find her right away.

And with that in mind, he walked across the hall to the suite where the security details sat watching television. They had been awake since eight that morning, having gone to fill the tank with gas and to check the air pressure in the tires, so that when it came time to leave, they wouldn’t have to waste any time. Tending to the vehicle didn’t take long, they were able to finish in less than twenty minutes, and on their way back from filling the tank, they stopped at a McDonalds to pick up some breakfast. And ever since they got back to the hotel with their food, they’d been sitting in front of the couch, watching ESPN. When a knock came from the door, the security details didn’t think much of it. They believed it to be Alistair, whom had gone out on an errand.

Wanting to tease him, Kamal bellowed, “Do my ears deceive me or has the infallible Alistair forgotten his keys? I reckon old age is doing you in mate. That’s what happens to wankers that –” His eyes widened in horror when he opened the door and found Harry standing there. “Your Royal Highness, please do forgive –”

“Where is she?” asked Harry, cutting him off. “Did she go off with Alistair? Is that why you thought I was him? Come on man, answer.”

“She did, Sir. And that was indeed why I believed you to be him.” Kamal replied, suddenly growing uneasy by how worked up the prince was. “Is anything the matter, Sir? Are you quite alright?”

“I’m fine, Kamal.” Harry said, letting himself into the suite. “What I need is for you to tell me where those two have gone off. She left a note, but all it said was that she’d stepped out and would be back by ten. But I’ve a feeling something’s not quite right. So where is she?” He didn’t give Kamal time to respond. “Better yet, was she alright when she came over? Everything fine with her? Or was she a bit off?”

“I can’t truly say so, I was indisposed when she arrived.” Kamal had been in the bathroom, washing up for breakfast. “But Gethin was there. He ought to know.”

Gethin, whom had jumped to his feet the moment the prince entered the suite, now spoke, “Miss Balcázar seemed to be a bit under the weather.”

“How so?” Harry questioned.

“Her voice was hoarse. It sounded a bit strained, as if she had a cold or something of that sort.”

“Does that mean he took her to the hospital?” inquired Harry. “They should’ve bloody woken me up if she was being driven out to see a doctor. I could’ve done without the sleep.”

“Rest assured that if that had been the case, we would’ve notified you, Sir.” Gethin assured. “Miss Balcázar did not request to be taken to a hospital or a pharmacy. That is to say, she didn’t request to be taken anywhere. She simply came to inform us that she was to step out, but as soon as we heard, I offered to escort her personally, but Alistair then stated that he would be the one to take her.”

“And where the fuck did he take her?” snapped Harry, growing increasingly irritable.

“To church.”

“Church?” repeated Harry, brow furrowing in disbelief. “He took her to church? What for?”

“I can’t say, Sir.” Gethin honestly hadn’t a clue as to why she’d been so keen on going to church. “All I can say is that she was quite adamant about going.”

“Did she say which church she was to visit?”

Gethin nodded. “Yes, Sir. She is at Our Lady of Sorrows.”

“And do you know where it’s located?”

“I do. Alistair sent us the information.” Gethin replied.

“Very well then.” Harry ran a hand through his messy ginger hair, thinking of what to do next. “I reckon I ought to go put some proper clothes on, and while I do that, you lot find us a car. Any car, I don’t care what sort it is, it can be a bloody taxi if that’s all there’s available, but I want a car waiting for me downstairs in ten minutes.”

He didn’t wait for them to respond. He sprinted back into his private suit, and put on some clothes. Quick as he could, he brushed his teeth and tended to his business, and then, several minutes short of the ten minute mark he’d given his men, he began to make his way downstairs. He was eager to arrive at the church, because he honestly hadn’t a clue as to what was going on. Why would she be at church on a Tuesday? He hardly understood her being at mass every Sunday when she had the option not to attend, but to be there on a Tuesday was just absurd, and more than that, it wasn’t like her at all. She only went to church on Sundays, well, she also went on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, but that was it, that was the extend of her during the week outings to church. He didn’t get why she was all of a sudden heading over there, especially when she went to the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, on Sunday with her family.

Harry spent the entire drive thinking of what could’ve happened. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice the peculiar smell of the hotel shuttle van that Kamal was driving. All he could think about was what was up with Paulina, because she was behaving quite oddly. He didn’t know why she’d run off to church if she felt ill. She should’ve gone to the hospital or gone back to bed, not go to church, but she had, and now he was on his way over there to see what she was up to.

They parked across the street from the church, preferring not bother with the church parking lot. Harry quickly took in the white building before him. It looked the part of a standard Catholic Church, it was complete with a rose window over the entryway. And as he looked up at it, he couldn’t help but think that if someone was to take a picture of him going inside, the British press would run wild with stories about his supposed conversion to Catholicism. He was aware of the nonsense that could be unleashed if someone were to see him step inside, but at the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t expect anyone to know who he was. The damn press hadn’t even followed them to the church, so he felt confident in walking inside, even if his security details didn’t feel the same.

“Are you quite certain about this, Sir?” inquired Kamal. “I do not think it necessary that you enter the church. I could very well fetch Miss Balcázar.”

“I don’t want to have her fetched.” Harry said as he exited the vehicle. “All I want is to see what she’s up to in there.”

“In that case, I could act as a scout, and relay her actions to you.” Kamal, like Harry, was aware of the sensationalist stories that might be ran if people knew he was going into church with his Catholic girlfriend.

“Kamal, I won’t burst into flames if I go in there.” Harry said. “I’ll be fine, now stay out here with Gethin.”

The finality in Harry’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t about to waste another minute discussing whether or not he was going to step inside the church. It was pointless to be paranoid about something so trivial. If the press wanted to blow it out of proportion then that would be on them, because his grandmother knew well enough that he didn’t care for religion at all. She knew Harry wouldn’t convert to Catholicism. That would require far too much energy for his liking.

Not knowing what to expect, he entered the church. He’d never been inside a Catholic church before. He’d had photo ops with a few Catholic youth organizations, but he’d never been inside one of their churches so he wasn’t sure as to what the layout would be like, but he was pleased to find that, for the most part, it was similar to that of an Anglican church. And he wasn’t even more pleased to find the church practically deserted. There were only two figures there, one sat in the pews, the other was kneeled before a statue of the Virgin Mary.

At a distance, Harry wasn’t quite able to tell if the person kneeling in front of the statue, was Paulina. The person’s face was hidden from view by a black lace veil. It wasn’t until he got closer that he noticed the faded Led Zeppelin shirt that she was wearing, and a few steps closer, were enough to secure him a view of her side profile. Her eyes were closed, but they weren’t peaceful looking like when she was asleep, there was visible tension in her face, her eyes were forced shut, and her lips were moving quickly, as if she was muttering something beneath her breath. A few steps closer made him notice the tear stains on her cheeks, as well as the tears that were still falling from her closed eyes. Why was she crying? What was it that had her so emotional? Certainly it wasn’t anything to do with him. Their last few days in Santa Barbara had been fantastic. They’d enjoyed themselves in ways that they hadn’t been able to in nearly a month so he didn’t get why it was she was crying and praying.

He was tempted to go up to her, to ask what it was she was doing, but she looked so deep in concentration that he didn’t have the heart to rouse her from her prayers. Instead, he opted to take a seat beside Alistair, who sat close enough to keep a clear eye on her, but far enough to give privacy.

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked, voice just above a whisper. “Is she not well? Gethin said she looked ill.”

“She’s not ill, Sir.” Alistair replied in an equally low voice.

“Then what’s the matter with her? What’s she crying about? Because those tears . . . well, those are very serious tears. Is everything alright with her family? Something happen to her parents?”

“Her family is well, Sir.” Alistair replied. “Her tears and her prayers are meant for the late Senator Kennedy.”

“Do you mean to say he died?” Harry, like Paulina, hadn’t seen that coming. “I thought he was on the mend. Paulina said he was on the mend.”

“She did, Sir. But it seems she was quite mistaken.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “Was she crying terribly when she went over to your suite?”

“No, Sir. She was actually quite composed. She appeared to be a bit ill, what with her voice being off, but she was nonetheless composed. There were no tears when we exited the hotel, nor were there any throughout the drive over. They were quite controlled until we entered the church.”

Harry was somewhat relieved to hear that she had been composed when she left the hotel. That meant no one had seen her crying, no one had heard her, and no one would be able to slip the information of her distress to the tabloids who would’ve certainly run articles with absurd headlines on them. The tabloids would’ve made it seem like she and Harry had had some terrible row, but no one had seen her cry, she had saved them that headache.

Feeling satisfied with what Alistair had told him, Harry resolved to sit there while she finished praying her rosary. His reasoning was that if she’d been at it for a half hour, then she surely wouldn’t be at it much longer. And he was right about that. Seven more minutes were enough for her to finish praying. She took a couple extra minutes to compose herself, to wipe away the tears, and will herself to be ready to walk back into public. She knew she couldn’t spend the rest of the day crying. It wouldn’t be fair to Harry if she were to spend the last few days of their time together, moping around. She could do that on her time, when Harry flew back to England, she could cry until she got a headache, but for now, she had to be alright.

When she stood up, she turned in direction of Alistair to inform him that she was ready to leave, but when she turned, she didn’t just find Alistair sitting there, she saw Harry alongside him. Her eyes immediately widened in surprise. What was he doing there? He was supposed to be sleeping at the hotel, not sitting in a Catholic Church.

“Harry?” she called to him in a soft voice, her voice hoarse from crying. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to look for you.” He said as he walked towards the end of the row, moving closer to her. “Ya didn’t say where it was you’d gone off to. I was worried.”

“Sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind.” It hadn’t. She’d purposelessly left out that she was going to Our Lady of Sorrows.

“You do know that you could’ve told me? I would’ve come with you.” He took in a deep breath. “I know how much he meant to you.”

“I hardly knew him,” she whispered, blinking away tears. “I’d only ever been around him twice, just two times, over a year ago, and now . . . now, I’m acting like a friend died.” She grabbed her sunglasses from her collar, getting ready to put them on to shield her eyes from the bright sun. “We should go. There’s packing I’ve gotta get done.”

Harry watched in confusion as she put her sunglasses on and walked away. He’d expected to see her cry, to hold her in his arms as she sobbed into his chest, that’s what he’d been preparing himself for, but none of that happened.

“Miss Balcázar didn’t want you to see her in this state, Sir.” Alistair spoke, wishing to alleviate Harry’s confusion. “She did not wish to dampen the holiday.”

“Holiday or not, I’m her boyfriend, and I’m meant to comfort her.”

“I do not wish to be impertinent, Sir, but if Miss Balcázar desired to be comforted, she would have allowed herself to be so. She does not desire his death to cast a cloud on the time you have left together. As such, I believe it only right that you humor her by not alluding to the subject. It’s best to leave it a private manner.”

“I’m not saying her grief should be in the papers, I’m only saying that I’d like to do my bit for her.”

“That I know, Sir.” Alistair could tell the young prince genuinely wanted to be of use to his girlfriend. “But I wholeheartedly believe that she does not wish to ruin the little time you’ve left together. That is, undoubtedly, why she asked me not to tell you of this outing.”

“She asked that of you?”

Alistair nodded. “She did. Miss Balcázar stated that she did not wish for you to know she was upset. She didn’t want to worry you, Sir. She wants to enjoy the time she has left with you. So on her behalf, I must implore that you not touch the subject of the late Senator. Let her mourn him in private, and do make her laugh. She needs it now. She made light of his death, stating that she hardly knew him and that it was odd she was acting the way she was, but he was her role model, and I think, even when people don’t meet their role models, it’s only natural that they mourn them.”

He was quiet for a moment, unsure as to what to do. All the movies he’d watched, always had the bloke running after his bird when she started crying. He’d hold her and tell her it’d all be alright. That was what he believed to be the norm in relationships, but there was Alistair, telling him to act as if nothing had happened, and he wasn’t quite sure if he ought to follow his advice, even though Alistair had a history of giving him the right sort of advice.

“Are you sure about this?” Harry eventually asked. “Because if I act like nothing happened, and then she gives me the cold shoulder for not having been worried about her feelings, then I’ll make it so you have to stand guard outside Clarence for an entire week.”

Harry was serious about his threat, but he didn’t have to act on it. Paulina didn’t treat him coldly or act passive aggressively at him for not bringing up Kennedy’s death. Not that she was much of a passive aggressive to begin with, when she was upset, she made it clear that she was upset, but he’d heard from his mates that some of their birds got passive aggressive when things weren’t going to their liking, and Harry had thought that might be the case with Paulina, but it wasn’t. She was glad that he’d taken the hint that she didn’t want to talk about the passing of the Senator. Kennedy’s death was something she wanted to reflect on and grieve, in private. She didn’t want him to see her, so worked up, because then he’d get worried and flustered, and she didn’t want to place unnecessary stress on him.

It was best they just enjoy the last few days they had together, because in four days’ time, Harry was set to return to England. And it would be almost two weeks until she’d be able to see him again for a few days. So she endeavored to be happy. She wasn’t smiling as brightly as she normally did or laughing anywhere near as loudly, but she was alright enough.

Paulina enjoyed her last few days at home, even though she always went missing for a half hour every day to pray. She wasn’t huge on praying the rosary, she only really ever did it when something bad happened or during Holy Week and Christmas time, but Mexican Catholics have a tradition called a novenario, in which every day for nine days, a rosary is prayed in honor of the recently deceased to help wash away their sins and get them into heaven. She knew it sounded silly, and it was even sillier to believe that it would work, but she did. She prayed for him and hoped that he would find eternal rest in heaven, alongside his brothers and the rest of his deceased family. And she hoped that she would figure out what to do with herself, because to everyone else it might appear that she knew exactly what she was doing with her life, that she had everything planned out, but the truth was, she was just a scared and confused twenty-four year old. She had two degrees from world renowned universities, she was working on a third from Harvard, and she wanted to know what it was that she was doing now, because all her life, she’d dreamt of becoming so accomplished that the great Lion of the Senate would take her under his wing and mentor her. She’d dreamt of being great friends with Ted Kennedy, and learning from him, and she’d been close, she’d been so very close, but that wasn’t happening anymore. And she just wanted to know what would be. Her future was in the air, there were two routes it could take, and she was just waiting to see whether she’d be a duchess that would live her happily ever after alongside the prince of her dreams or if she was going to have to fight and charm her way into the Senate.