This story focuses on Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, students in modern day Denmark. They recall a stay at Elsinore when they were little boys.
A photo from the mid-nineties of Francesca Annis (an English actress who happened to play Queen Gertrude on stage, but that aside) inspired me to write The thunderstorm. I first published this story as a single chapter story in August 2009. I rewrote it and turned it into a multi-chapter story.
Chapter 1 – Student's talk
Outside a students' club the wind howled but inside there was a burning fire place with comfortable chairs. The seven friends who'd gathered there had no reason not to drink and be merry.
Thomasson, Jensen, Vingstadt and Kjærgeld had first met when they'd joined their fraternity three years previous. Ulrich was an exchange student who had lived in Denmark for nearly half a year. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had become friends at kindergarten and behind their backs they were known as "hand and glove".
´Fuck chaps, blast this bloody weather.´
´Really Thomasson!´ Guildenstern objected.
´Guil girl sorry,´ Thomasson replied, ´but I am not a poet am I? And now there's bloody lightning too. Ain't it sad that we're here, seven chaps and four bottles of good old John? When you swig you need prose, my uncle used to say. Story time! You start Ulrich!´
Ulrich didn't care for Thomasson's commanding tone:´What am I, a storyteller? I study economy mate!´
´Guil is our linguist,´ Jensen quickly said. He was fascinated by royalty and he had subscriptions to three gossip magazines to satisfy his curiosity. He had been delighted when he'd found out that Guildenstern was the son of a baron and he had been thrilled to learn that Guildenstern and Rosencrantz were in prince Hamlet's circle.
´Tell us about your ancestral estate,´ Jensen suggested, ´Tell us about prince H.´
Guildenstern's only reply was a shrug and Jensen dared not continue. He was glad when Ulrich picked up the subject and asked Guil whether he knew the prince well. This time Guildenstern nodded.
´I visited Elsinore as a tourist,´ Thomasson remarked, ´Have you ever been there?´
Rosencrantz proved more talkative than his friend: ´Guildenstern and I stayed there, many years ago mind you, we were about seven years old.´
´No matter,´ Ulrich said. He pointed his cigar towards Rosencrantz. ´You've got a powerful patron mate. Guil doesn't need one I suppose but for you it's great.'
Unaware of the fact that Rosencrantz felt insulted by his remark he continued: 'Could you by any chance introduce prince H to me?
´There's no need for that Aussie,´ Kjærgeld said, grinning.
´He said he didn't mind that I'd bumped into him and that the wine stain could be removed,´ Ulrich replied. His fellow students laughed.
´And then he walked away as if you were a cockroach,´ Kjærgeld reminded Ulrich.
´No matter,´ Ulrich waved his hand. ´What does he find attractive? I've got a blonde sister and a dark haired cousin. Could ask them to come over.´
´Oh God,´ Guildenstern objected. ´The prince´s grandfather married a royal cousin, his father married a royal cousin…´
The Danish men rose and toasted: ´The Queen!´
´Hamlet will marry a cousin as well, however far related,´ Kjærgeld explained as he dropped himself in his chair.
´That ain't healthy. But what do you mean the Queen?´
´You've never seen her?´
Kjærgeld walked to a table near the window and picked up a photo to show it to Ulrich.
The latter rose: ´The Queen!´
While Thomasson poured his friends drinks, Ulrich stared at the Queen's portrait. ´This is an old picture right mates?´
´Nope, made last year.´
´Oh man. Was she around when you stayed there, Rosencrantz?´
Rosencrantz affirmed this. A slight blush graced his cheeks and neck.
A butler entered with warm snacks.
´Thank you Henson,´ Guildenstern said. The butler nodded at Guildenstern, ignored the other students and left. Vingstadt grabbed a snack, burned his fingers and shrieked.
´You sit there silently Vingstadt and when it comes to eating you're the cock of the walk. I bet you ate ma-ca-ro-nie all week sucker?´ Kjærgeld said bitingly.
Vingstadt shrugged and eyed his snack as if he were in love with it.
´Ever been in the army Vingstadt?´ Kjærgeld wanted to know.
´Flat-footed,´ Vingstadt admitted.
´Among others...´ Kjærgeld whispered.
´You weren't in the army either were you Rose?´ Thomasson asked.
´I was.´
´But when we are complaining about officers you always keep shut.´
´He was in my father's regiment,´ Guildenstern informed them.
´Didn't know that,´ Thomasson said. ´I thought your old man was a Baron. But he's a war-horse too? What's his rang?'
´Colonel.´
´So he's a bigwig.´ Addressing Vingstadt Thomasson added: ´Do leave something darling?´
Guildenstern changed the subject: ´What about you Thomasson? You weren't in the army. Were you an au-pair or something?´
´Go Guil!´ Kjærgeld praised. ´Yeah Toson, what were you doing while we were slaving away in the barracks?´
With a heavenly smile on his face Thomasson replied:
´I've done what every young man should be doing after high school…´
Ulrich moved his pelvis.
´I took French classes…´
Ulrich started moaning theatrically. Thomasson grinned and continued.
´Creep. I took classes near the beautiful city of Toulouse… from very friendly… monks.´
They all laughed except for Vingstadt.
´Aren't there any sausages?´ he wanted to know.
´Exactly!´ Ulrich agreed. He took a bite of his snack. ´There's only one French line you need to know: "Voelee voe koesjhé avek mwa".´
Picking up the Queen's portrait again Ulrich added: ´Mama! What a mind blowing tit-´
Guildenstern, always the gallant knight, jumped to his feet. His reputation as a fierce boxer had reached Ulrich who did some quick thinking.
´-bit this is.´ He reached for another snack. ´We ain't got these in Australia Guil,´ he said while winking to Thomasson.