Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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It was February, and James’ birthday. He was twenty. It felt like such a huge number, particularly to myself, who was yet to get to 18. Over the course of the few days as we travelled backwards and forwards to his parent’s house to celebrate there, my head ran around the thoughts about how much older he was, and yet how alike we could be. And then how different we were, but how we complimented each other with our differences… My thoughts would then spiral back to just how old he was and I’d begin to imagine both of us as pensioners in rocking chairs on a porch, me with some knitting and him smoking a pipe. Or the other way round… Actually, me smoking a pipe and James knitting was a more interesting prospect.

I would definitely be the one smoking.

Aw, no, icky!

Once we had returned to Rous, we went out properly with James’ friends, Jenn and Iona too, plus Jade for extra company. In a busy bar close to the university we sat and talked, the guys drinking beer and myself attempting to enjoy an archers and lemonade, whilst coughing every time the alcohol hit the back of my throat. Everyone else seemed to find this most amusing, but eventually I gave up and ordered simply a lemonade.

Returning home, Jade drove, and James languished across the back seat, occasionally telling me that he loved me in a rather wistful manner.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?” I asked, after a little while of wondering at his behaviour.

“Sssh,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, my lips are sealed,” I replied, hiding a smile.

My lips might be sealed when it came to telling other people, but I wasn’t going to let James live this down for a while. Not after all how he acted that time I got drunk…

“Has anyone ever told you you’re absolutely gorgeous?” he said after a moment, picking up a lock of my hair and examining it close to.

“Erm, not in quite those words,” I replied, trying not to giggle.

“Well, you are,” James stated, extremely matter-of-fact, “You’re absolutely gorgeously sexily shmexy.”

“Thanks,” I grinned.

He smiled absentmindedly, thanked me for thanking me, and kissed me a little sloppily on the cheek.

I like drunk James.

Drunk James is an idiot.

He’s not! He’s just funny.

Funny looking.

In the morning James had a headache, and I teased him about it until lunch.

At which point teasing became obsolete, as his painkillers kicked in. Plus, Grandmother wanted to see us. She’d mentioned the ugly word ‘hymns’. With James so mortified he got his finger trapped in the handle of his tea cup, I stepped into the breech and volunteered myself. Two hours of listening on my bed to an intense mix of operatic ‘Ave Maria’s’ and Pachelbell’s canon, and I think I passed out on the bed. The next thing I knew, there were bells pealing in my ears and I had to jump from the bed to turn the volume down.

“Sheesh…” I muttered, looking at the track listing, “Holsworthy Church Bells by Wesley… Maybe not that one.”

My ears set against Wesley’s Church bells, I brought my final selection to James, and he verified it all. We turned it in to Grandmother, and kissed goodbye to Order of Service. It seemed like a very final moment.

We bid thee farewell, oh Order of Service.

Until we meet again-

At the Rehearsal Wedding.

So long.

Shortly after the Order of Service was off, we began the arduous task of attempting the seating plan. If you’ve never attempted to organise a party of 250 political guests into an acceptable seating arrangement which won’t cause fights, you don’t know what stress is. So-and-so couldn’t sit next to anyone from Lorainya, or he might stab them… Lord Luxley couldn’t sit next to the Earl of Fearnley, as he had had an affair with his ex-wife… Caroline couldn’t sit next to anyone female or she’d almost certainly offend them in some way… The Lorainyan Royal Family had to have privileged seats or Queen Katherine would almost certainly exclude us from the next Trading Act…

Grandmother got so preoccupied she actually forced us to have circular tables in order to prevent people from being offended at not being put at the head. And just as we thought that everything was sorted out –

“No!” Grandmother cried, “Why is a WWII veteran sitting next to the German Ambassador?!”

Things eventually came to a satisfactory conclusion, but believe me, I wasn’t organising another such a massive event for a long time.

Just before February ended James drove me into Rous for a visit to one of the most exclusive jewellers’ in the country. Sadly, I wasn’t there to buy something for myself – our wedding rings were picked out already; plain, simple gold bands. Bridesmaids’ presents were the aim of the day. After nearly an hour of being shown extravagant sapphires and rubies in a splendidly decorated parlour, I asked if we could consider the catalogue and displays privately for a while, and hence managed to get rid of the smarmy executive, who was clearly trying to get us to buy the most expensive items in the whole establishment.

Being left alone played a trick, and two minutes later I’d found a matching but unique set of simple diamond pendants and earrings. Meanwhile, James found cufflinks for his groomsmen. Though happy having side-stepped the millions of pounds which the assistant had attempted to make us spend, I did feel a little guilty when we paid and left. We were caught by paparazzi as we left, several flashes going off in our faces. Jade ushered people out of the way and we left quietly without answering any questions.

That night I gulped as I looked at the calendar – it was the first of March tomorrow. Only a little more than a month until I was married.

The next day Mum and Dad sat us down with a Travel agent, and got us to pick out a Honeymoon destination…

I want to go to Disneyland!!

For your honeymoon?

Yes!

Hardly romantic…

“They’re all too nice,” James said after a while of looking through the information, “I mean, I’d love to go to the Alps – but Africa sounds great too – and then of course France is always considered romantic… Merry?”

“Lord, I don’t know…”

“Shall I give your majesties a few minutes to discuss things privately?” the Travel Agent mumbled nervously. He seemed only a little older than ourselves, and very nervous at having to even contemplate talking to us – his face had a distinct sheen of sweat, which made him look a little like he was wrapped in cling-film.

I nodded, and he nearly ran out of the room.

James sighed next to me.

“When in doubt, make a pros and cons list,” I told him, smiling.

James grinned, and grabbed a pen.

“Shall we make it what we want and don’t want? That way we don’t have to do one for each of the 30 different places. We could make a list of things, and then give points for each that a destination has?”

“Sounds like good thinking,” I agreed.

Five minutes later and we had a list in front of us:

Would like:
Not too hot, not too cold,
Sun,
Water – lake, sea, rivers, something,
Privacy,
Stars at night – so no light pollution.

Do not want:
Snow,
Extreme heat,
Paparrazi,
Too many tourists/ other people,
Sand,
Mosquitos,
Scary bugs or snakes.

Scoring up our possible destinations, we quickly ruled out the Alps or Himalayas, and also pretty much the entirety of Africa. We ruled out all the cities too. Our remaining options all seemed to be villa-type scenarios. Which sounded… cosy.

As James continued to mark off scores on a sheet of paper, I found myself leafing through the brochures, and came across a folder on one of the Villas my family owned already. I ran through the lists in my head – Sun? Yes. Water? Yes. Privacy? Almost certainly. Stars? Yes. Scary bug or snakes? No. Snow? No. Extreme heat? No. Sand? No! Mosquitos?... Possibly.

The very slightly possibility that we might meet the odd spider was tempered quite well by the obvious privacy of the situation. I wondered why we hadn’t visited the place before as a family.

James finished totalling up, “The winner is Italy,” he said after a moment.

My heart skipped a coincidental beat.

“Whereabouts in Italy?” I asked, a slight grin twitching at my lips.

“It’s a villa on the coast of Tuscany apparently,” he replied.

My heart leapt again and I laughed.

“What?” he asked, smiling back.

“I just found the booklet for it – here,” I passed him the home-made brochure.

“Wow…” James muttered.

“So,” I muttered, trailing a curious finger up his arm and nestling into his side, “You wouldn’t mind being sexually compromised there?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Not at all,” James grinned at me, throwing his mouth against mine, nearly pushing us off the sofa.

“Ahem,” said a small voice from behind us.

I giggled, and James looked up in an extremely un-repentant fashion. The nervous Travel Agent stuttered an apology and began to order the brochures in a flustered manner.

“Ha-have you, have you made a d-decision?” he asked hesitantly, unable to keep his eyes off a view of the Rockies.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, “We would like to go to Tuscany – here.”

I passed him the booklet, and smiled at James.

I was going to loose my virginity in little less than a month, and I was going to do it in Italy. We could even make a detour to go to Venice… I had a feeling several of the items on my ‘Other List’ were going to be ticked off on my honeymoon.

1. Swum in a lake/ river
2. Swum naked!
3. Been seen naked…?
4. Purposefully watched the sun rise
5. Slept outside for the night minus tent
6. Watched any Sex in the City episodes (is it actually about sex in the city?)
7. Smoked
8. Been even slightly tipsy
9. Been to Venice
10. Been to a masquerade ball
11. Been serenaded
12. Seen a man cry
13. Gotten engaged
14. Gotten married
15. Had sex
16. Died

Some I’d already done, and I was certainly planning for numbers 3 and 15 to be accomplished. In the meantime, we might as well take in a little skinny dipping… and perhaps a detour to Venice for a masked ball?

I grinned to myself as the Travel Agent hastened out the room, bobbing his head repeatedly, as if in imitation of Mr Collins from Pride & Prejudice. I was definitely looking forward to April.