Take It All

Rosie pulled the hood of her sweatshirt around her head, keeping what little heat her body had close to her. Shivering from head-to-toe, the memory of the ice bath clinging to her bones, she left the warmth of her cottage.

The Wimbledon Village was quiet tonight, like all weekdays. Rosie knew the peacefulness would give way to the excitement of the tennis world once the tournament began. Players and their entourage of trainers, coaches, and physiotherapists would move into the cottages. The fans would fill the hotels, the boutiques, the restaurants, and the streets.

The energy changes when the tournament begins, but for now with most of the cottages dark, Rosie was thankful for the empty streets and the calm. Without it, she would not be able to walk unaccompanied. No one would notice her tonight.

She reached the village center, the commercial part of Wimbledon, where the streets were lined with restaurants, businesses, and shops. The smell of food filled her nose, and her stomach rumbled from the depths of her sweatshirt.

Food.

She needed food. That’s why she wandered into the village center tonight.

The wooden sign of the restaurant swung silently in the wind. A picture of a red fox was carved next to the words Fox & Grapes. This restaurant was Rosie’s favorite place to eat in the entire city.

Her hands lightly passed over the vines that were growing up the brick building. She walked through the open doors and was instantly greeted by a loud yell.

The hostess, Mary, an attractive middle-aged woman with chestnut hair was rushing towards her, arms held out. She pulled Rosie into a hug.

“I have been waiting for you to pop through the door since you called your order in,” she told Rosie.

Rosie laughed. “Great to see you too!”

Mary pushed Rosie back at arm’s length. “Let me have a look,” she said, eyes studying the athlete. She winked. “Lookin’ good, kid.”

“Thank you,” Rosie said.

Mary gasped. “I nearly forgot! Let me go get Gerry.”

She retreated into the kitchen.

Rosie waited, rocking back and forth in her sneakers, realizing she could finally feel her toes again. The kitchen doors swung open wildly, a thin and tall man leading the way.

“Ahhhhh…Miss Rosie, you are back,” Gerry said, pulling into a quick hug and planting a loud kiss on each cheek. “It’s been an age.”

“Yes, yes,” Rosie said, laughing, accustomed to his exaggerations.

“So,” he said, leaning against the hostess station. “How proud is the Pride of Britain going to make us this year?”

Rosie only shrugged, not wanting to feed into this conversation or the pressure that came with it. She knew the entire country was rooting for her to win Wimbledon this year. Being the highest-ranked British woman, and the most decorated British tennis player to ever play the game, she knew the expectations placed on her.

“We will see, G,” she said.

“Imagine,” he said, stars in his eyes. “If you won Wimbledon, Andy won Wimbledon, you and Andy win in the mixed doubles! Imagine that!”

Rosie opened her mouth to get him to stop.

“AND - then there’s the Olympics! What if you won gold!? What if Andy won gold!?”

“Whoa,” Rosie said, loudly, sternly, trying for a hint of light-heartedness to seep in somewhere. “Why don’t we come back down to Earth?”

Gerry shook himself out of his fantasy. “Sorry, darling, but can’t you imagine taking it all?”

“Love,” Mary said, placing a hand on Gerry’s shoulder. This was her attempt to redirect his attention. “Don’t you have something to tell Rosie?”

He looked at Mary. “I do?”

She nodded, pointing to the back of the bustling restaurant.

“I do!” He looked back to Rosie. “I have guests who specifically asked for you when you arrived.”

Rosie’s face clouded in confusion. “What?”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Mary admitted. “I made a fuss when I heard you were coming in for take-away, and they overheard me say your name.”

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Discretion is best, darling,” Gerry said, curling a finger towards him, beckoning her to follow him. “Come.”

Rosie weaved through the tables and wracking her brain for who these guests could be. There were no openings in her entourage, so it couldn’t be anyone looking for a job. It wouldn’t be a journalist, or a fan – Gerry and the entire restaurant staff were very good at negating overzealous fans.

Gerry stood in the opening of one of his private rooms. He bowed.

Why did he bow? Was that a bow? Maybe it was just an over exaggerated head nod?

“Your Highnesses, may I introduce Miss Rosie Savage,” Gerry said.

No way.

“No way,” she said out loud as she peered over his shoulder to see Prince Harry, and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

Gerry thrust her in front of him. “Here she is,”

Rosie stared from face to face to face, slack-jawed.

“Hi,” she finally said.

“We’ve been waiting for you!” Kate said, eyes alight.

“Yes…why?” she asked.

William spoke. “We couldn’t stop talking about you and Andy after we met you. The points you were playing were brilliant. So, when we heard you were coming here for dinner, we thought it would be a fantastic opportunity to have dinner with you.”

“Dinner with me…”

“Yes,” Harry said, pulling out the chair beside him at the round table. “Will you join us for dinner?”

“Ehm…” The words were stuck in her throat. She looked down at what she was wearing, looked at their clothes, at their expectant expressions, at Gerry. “I’m not dressed.”

Silence.

Rosie could feel their disappointment.

“Of course, she will be joining you.” Gerry pushed her into the seat Harry had pulled out. “You’re dressed perfectly, love. My favorite player and patron can wear anything she wants in my restaurant. I will warm up your take-away and bring it immediately.”

“Thank you,” she said, responding automatically as Gerry swept out of the room.

“Hello,” Rosie greeted them properly; she took the cloth napkin from the table and placed it over her lap.

“I apologize if we caught you off guard tonight,” William said, his fingers wrapped around the bottom of his wine glass.

“It’s okay, definitely unexpected, but okay,” she said, her skin was tingling and it definitely was not the remnants of the ice bath. Now it was adrenal, it was nerves.

“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked. “Wine?”

Rosie waved his suggestion away. “No, thank you. No wine this close to the tournament. No alcohol at all, at the moment.”

Harry nodded. “Should have known.”

She shrugged it off.

Two waiters brought the food to their table. Rosie watched as a plate of grilled sea bass was placed in front of Kate. Will began tucking into the squash ravioli, while Harry got the house burger. She could smell the caramelized onion and melted cheddar cheese.

“Excellent choice,” she told him.

Harry smiled. “Thanks, what did you get?”

Rosie’s plate was last to touch the table.

“Fish and chips?” Harry asked, pointing at the haddock with surprise.

“Yeah?”

“That doesn’t seem like a very healthy option.”

Rosie laughed. “Calling the kettle black?” she said, pointing back at his burger, the fat glistening in the light.

Harry laughed now, shaking his head. “I’m not the professional athlete.”

“True. However, I have seen you play a mean game of polo.”

William coughed, causing both Rosie and Harry to turn their attention to him. “I hope we didn’t take you away from anything tonight, Rosie.”

“Oh no,” she said, breaking a piece of haddock in half, heat rising from the center. “It was going to be dinner, some visualization and prepping for tomorrow.”

“Do you have practice in the morning?” Kate asked.

“Yeah, later in the morning, but it won’t be like what you guys saw today. It’ll be more fitness-oriented, more endurance, and a lot of foot-work and agility stuff.”

“With Andy again?” Kate asked, ever-curious.

Rosie shrugged. “Maybe, but it may be his brother Jamie.”

“You seem very close with the Murray’s,” Harry said.

“I am. My mother and I moved to Dunblane when I was about four-years-old, and that’s where the Murray’s lived. Judy, Andy’s mom, was the first friend my mom made and she had just started teaching Andy and Jamie how to play tennis. My mum thought it would be a great idea for me to join in with them, make friends and take up a sport. I don’t think she ever thought that this sport would end up being my life, but I’m not complaining.”

“Where did you live before Dunblane?” Harry asked.

“London, actually. Not far from Kensington Gardens.”

“What made you guys move?” Kate asked.

Rosie shrugged. “Parents divorced.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said.

“God no, don’t be.” Rosie quickly waved away Kate’s apology. “It was for the best.”

“Do you still keep a house in Dunblane?” William asked.

“My mom does with her husband, but I have place in London. I’m rarely there, since I practice mainly in Florida, and in Spain.”

“So you have houses in Florida and Spain?” Harry asked.

“Yes, sir.” She bobbed her head along with her answer.

William held up a palm to her. “Please, don’t call me sir. We are well passed that. Call me Will.”

Rosie exhaled, feeling like a wall had just been broken - the wall that separated the royal family from the rest of the world. The future king was sitting before her and requesting to call him by his first name.“

"Oh, yes, and Kate is more than perfect,” Kate said.

Rosie looked to Harry.

Harry shrugged easily, nonchalantly. “Just Harry.”

Dinner ended with them paying for her meal, despite her objections. They walked together through the restaurant, Rosie making sure to say goodbye to Gerry and Mary, and stood on the sidewalk before an idling black SUV.

William and Kate hugged Rosie before getting into the backseat of the car. Harry was last to move.

“That was a great time,” he said, thrusting a finger back to the restaurant. “I’ve never been huge follower of tennis, but I’ll make sure to come see a match of yours.”

“Thanks, that’d be awesome. I bet you’d enjoy it.”

“Definitely,” he said.

He was about to turn towards the car, but he stopped and said, “Wait, Will interrupted us earlier. You said I play a mean game of polo. Have you watched one of my matches?”

Rosie nodded. “Yes. I have a lot of friends who play polo. Comes with the territory of being an athlete, we seem to know each other.”

“Very cool. Did you know there is a match on Sunday?” he asked.

“Is there? Are you playing?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s actually only a few minutes away from here.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “The charity match at the Guard’s Polo Club?”

“Yes! I’ll be playing for my charity.”

“Yes, I will be there. A lot of my friends are going.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” Harry said.

“Maybe.”

Harry hugged her and as he pulled away he gave her a quick peck goodbye on her cheek. She barely felt it, it barely registered, but she was sure he did.

Harry stifled a quiet laugh and quick “see you,” before sliding into the passenger seat of the SUV. She watched the vehicle quickly navigate through the cobblestone streets and out of sight.