Chapter 8

The day after I learned about Miss Penworthy's column I felt the need to give Clarisse a treat. A poor treat, true, but I got a bright smile when I invited her to see my suite. After nearly half a century of being a Queen, she hadn't turned blasé. It was one of the things that I found so endearing about her.

´I realised that with Leclerc being the only crew member who is allowed to enter the owner's decks, you can freely roam this deck as well as the sun deck.´

´I'd love to Andre!´

She put down her book and rose. I cleared my throat and checked my watch.

´I have a meeting with the officer of the watch now...´

She smoothly made it appear as if she'd only meant to adjust her skirt.

I felt like an idiot. I never feel that way.

´Shall we have lunch in my suite? I will show you around then.´

She picked up her book before giving me a smile.

´I'll see you at lunch my dear,´ I said, kissing her forehead.

I smelled her shampoo, I felt her soft skin.

I did have an appointment though it was hardly a meeting: I was going to play squash.

OoOoOoO

My opponent, one of the officers, made me a compliment about the yacht.

´I'm impressed by her sir,´ he told me. ´And we are all more than pleased with the crew accommodations.´

´I'm glad to hear that,´ I replied.

Keeping the crew happy was one way to control them.

We played for half an hour. He beat me but I didn't mind: he was thirty years my junior for one.

´Score...forty-four, fifty-nine,´ I panted.

´No sir. It's fifty-three.´

I wiped my brow and nodded that he was right.

Fifty-nine. It was just a number.

OoOoOoO

After dealing with my business affairs I read The Guardian. In this paper as well as in several other foreign papers editorials had been published saying that the accusations against the Queen of Genovia had to be checked again. However, with Her Majesty having escaped death penalty and many other important things going on in the world, it seemed all's well that ends well. The Royal Trial didn't get a lot of attention any more.

A 'favourite' I ignored was the reader's page of Genovian Daily. I'd opened it earlier that morning and I'd learned that Elsie's venomous pen had already caused fourteen hundred and eighty-one Genovians (the SuperDudes of this world) to leave a message on the paper's site. I read all one hundred and twenty-one responses that could be found under the I don't agree button.

There were some people who wrote that it was typical to call a female murderer a whore. Others hadn't recognised a sexist way of thinking, but they said that Elsie shouldn't have hinted at something she couldn't prove. Several readers claimed to know Joe Romero and they stated that he would neither accept nor demand payment in the flesh. Some people were worried: hadn't Penworthy realised that His Royal Highness and princess Amelia might read her page? True, it was worse enough to know that 'you know who' had killed the King, but there was no point in throwing mud at her.

Fifty-nine respondents were convinced that Her Majesty was innocent of any crime.

OoOoOoO

Naturally I escorted Clarisse to my suite. I made me feel good to see her walk the corridor. She praised the modern art gracing the wall and told me that the round windows were so very yacht-like.

´Those are called portholes my dear,´ I grinned.

´Tosh. You don't call your suite a cabin now do you?´

Looking over her shoulder she playfully raised an eyebrow at me.

She noticed a corridor to the left and I invited her to explore it.

´This is obviously the elevator,´ I said, ´And these are the stairs.´

´Have you considered becoming a real estate broker Andre?´

She smiled at me happily.

´Do you think I will be good at it?´ I asked in a serious tone.

´That depends on how you will describe this,´ she replied, gesturing toward the small kitchen.

I gave it a try: ´Well ma'am, this is the kitchen.´

´You've missed your vocation Andre.´

Something started beeping. As a result the door to the laundry room opened and Leclerc appeared.

´Good afternoon Mr Leclerc,´ she greeted.

The butler inclined his head. ´Your Majesty. Sir.´

Leclerc stopped the beeping by opening the oven.

´How long before we can have lunch?´ I inquired.

´It will take about ten minutes sir.´

´Wonderful,´ I replied, ´that will enable me to show Her Majesty my sui- cabin.´

Clarisse shook her head and gave me a fond look. We walked toward my suite and I invitingly opened the door. I anxiously watched her enter my spacious sitting room.

There wasn't a lot of furniture in it: a small round dinner table, similar to the one in Clarisse's room, a comfortable chair near the bookcases, some build-in closets, a sofa and a few chairs. At the bow stood a chaise-longue. Some of my fantasies were situated there.

´It is so... you,´ she said, looking around approvingly.

´Do you mean it's empty?´ I said.

´Oh Andre,´ she replied with a warm smile, ´you know that is not what I mean.´

I took a step toward her and lightly placed a hand on her hip.

´What do you mean Clarisse?´

´This room is... sure of itself,´ she said: ´It's complete. Is that a González?´

She walked toward a small statue.

After lunch I took her to the stairs.

´On the deck below this one, there's a door to the staircase that requires a key to open it. Only myself and Leclerc have one. From this side a key is not needed, but please, don't go downstairs,´ I urged.

´I won't,´ she promised: ´Not until after we have left a harbour.´

She looked at me questioningly but I merely smiled and thanked her for her understanding.

´May I lead the way to the sun deck Clarisse?´

OoOoOoO

At first I'd destined the sun deck to be merely a spot for the satellite receivers. The ship's designer however had mentioned that she was surprised I didn't want a jacuzzi. I'd told her I'm not a sun addict, which is true, but I had thought about Clarisse mostly: she prefers the shadows.

´Yes,´ the designer had lisped, ´but you don't have outdoor space on the owner's deck and I think you might regret not being able to enjoy a wind, or how do you say? A breeze.´

The designer reminded me that the sun deck was like a walled yard (which was done to protect the communication devices) and that over half of the deck was now unused.

´If you don't want a jacuzzi, you might turn it into a garden,´ she suggested. ´You can easily create shadow by using parasols.´

OoOoOoO

Clarisse liked the design of the jacuzzi that had made its way to Triple V after all.

´You even have art here,´ she said, touching a mosaic picture.

´At first I thought to have a sea view made, but then I decided that flowers would be more original.´

´And you found the perfect combination in water-lilies.´

´I always strive for perfection.´

Tracing the contours of a lily, she shook her head. I held my breath.

When she turned around her proud expression made me exhale.

´From what I've seen of your yacht Andre, you have succeeded brilliantly.´

I had not been more content with myself since Rupert had died 'of natural causes'.

OoOoOoO

From then on we had lunch in her suite and afternoon tea in mine or the other way around. When the weather was good, we had our morning tea on the sun deck. The change of scenery, limited though it was, seemed to do Clarisse good. She could read for hours and she wrote in her journal a lot.

´If you continue like this, I will have to get you another writing pad,´ I said one evening.

She looked up to find me near, my index finger serving as a marker for my book. She apologised for neglecting me.

´Nonsense. You're writing, I'm reading. I just needed to stretch my limbs.´

I'd also needed to look at her. I couldn't but wonder if she'd be as elegant in bed as when sitting behind her desk.

´What are you reading?´ she asked.

I showed her the cover.

´I love that book,´ she replied, ´Donna Tartt is a true story-teller.´

´She certainly is. What are you writing about?´

´About this and that,´ she said.

Seeing that her explanation didn't satisfy me she added: ´I allow myself ten lines a day to note down how I feel. The rest is an account of the past.´

She blew at the sheet she'd been writing on, so the ink would dry faster.

It made my skin tickle.

OoOoOoO

An account of the past. For who? Her people? Her son and granddaughter?

´Good morning Charlotte!´

´Lord Sadique! You still believe she's innocent, don't you?´

´With all my heart! Are you all right Charlotte? I don't know you to be this... bold.´

´I'm sorry sir. It's just that -´

She continued in a whisper, though I knew her to have an office of her own.

´- things have changed. I went to see my parents and I hoped that on my return people would have started thinking again...´

OoOoOoO

Charlotte had been encouraged by none other than the prince to have a break, thanks to a mail I had sent Viscount Mabrey. It read that if there was anyone Romero would turn to for help it would be Miss Kutaway. But with her staying at the Castle, there was unfortunately no chance for runaway Romero to contact her. The next day the swine had informed me that he had suggested the prince to give the overworked little Missy a few days off. He had pictured his private detective to arrest Romero, but Charlotte had not met the former Head of Security.

OoOoOoO

´... like sheep, as if they never even knew her!´ Charlotte whispered angrily.

I reassured the young woman: the prince would set things right.

She made a throatily sound.

´Have you by any chance heard of Joe sir?´

´I have not, I'm sorry to say.´

´I am sure he keeps her safe!´ Charlotte said before connecting me to the prince.

It didn't take long before I heard myself say: ´Pierre, you don't believe it do you?´

´It's not easy Andre. Everyone seems to think she's a monster. They are my subjects. Am I to hurt their feelings by insisting she's innocent?´

´What are you talking about? She is innocent! What if they say that the earth is flat and carried by four elephants? Would you agree with them -´

He interrupted me: ´It's just that...´

He cleared his throat before continuing: ´I find myself in a delicate position. Genovia expects me to act.´

´What does your conscience tell you?´

´Joe went missing,´ the prince changed the subject. ´You must have heard about it. I think she's with him. The gossips figure they were having an affair.´

´You know better than to believe gossips!´

´Mabrey advised me to question Charlotte. She confessed that she'd seen the two of them dance privately in San Francisco. She swore that to her knowledge they weren't involved

´There you are!´

´Amelia told me that Joe had the hots for - I've heard my niece being described as observant. Well. Are you enjoying your voyage?´

I cleared my throat.

´I'm worried for what's going on in my fatherland.´

´I'm preparing a statement Andre. God willing it will transform Genovia into a peaceful and quiet country again. Know that I will think about what you said. Goodbye.´

I liked it not.

A minute later I was talking to my cousin.

´The prince is beginning to see the light,´ he told me. ´He's starting to admit that when the police say she did it and when the judges say she did it and when practically every Genovian says she did it, she did it

´I don't believe it. She's his mother!´

´Unfortunately she is. But it's easy to forget that with him looking so much like his father.´

´He told me about a statement he'll make.´

´Yes. We told him that he needs to speak about that woman

´Do you think the prince will ask for a new trial?´

My cousin laughed at my stupidity.

´He has great respect for the written word. A man of the bible, eh? I doubt he feels the need to investigate the investigation.´

´I hope he will be careful and not ruin his relationship with his mother.´

´The woman is a murderess and a fugitive. Mabrey already told me that she's still got you twisted around her little finger. It's a good thing she's got two of them: she needs one for Romero.´

I liked it not.

OoOoOoO

I pretended to be working but through the glass wall separating my office from my sitting room, I watched her as she sat on a sofa. She was wearing a long sleeved blue shirt (ample bosom) and a black skirt (long shapely legs).

´Your tea is getting cold Andre.´

Such a simple line but how I enjoyed hearing it. She and I.

´I'll be right there my dear.´

My eye fell on a photo frame on my desk. I had a similar one in my office at home.

I locked my laptop and picked up the frame.

´Have you ever seen this picture Clarisse?´

She elegantly bent over to the coffee table to put down her cup so I could hand her the photo. It showed her, Rupert and myself in front of my mansion.

´Look at those suits and that dress,´ she said with a smile, ´It must have been made in... eighty-nine?´

´Eighty-nine indeed.´

It was one of my favourite pictures: Rupert had stood somewhat isolated, for my dogs Molly and Isac were standing between him and his wife and myself.

´You wouldn't happen to have more pictures of Rupert would you?´

Of course I had. I walked to a closet and took out my 'royal album'.

I sat down next to Clarisse and placed my left hand behind her back, enjoying her nearness. The album rested on our laps.

´These pictures are all new to me. How nice,' she said after having seen some pages.

I didn't feel awkward looking at pictures of the man I'd killed with said man's widow. I listened with pleasure to her remarks about photos showing her sons or her husband. She didn't comment a picture on which she was the main object.

´You looked so beautiful then. You still do,´ I said.

She smiled briefly, keeping her eyes on the album as she turned the page. She must have felt me gazing at her. I moved my hand a little closer to her back. To break the silence she chatted about how displeased Rupert had been when Joseph had strongly discouraged him to go sea-fishing again. Puzzled, and annoyed at Romero being mentioned, I looked at the photo. It showed Rupert and myself fishing in my lake. At the margin of the picture Joe Romero was keeping an eye on his King.

About half a year before the photo had been made, Rupert had fallen overboard during a storm at the Mediterranean Sea. He'd called it an adventure, but I believe he'd been more frightened than he'd cared to admit. He had after all followed what he liked to refer to as Joe's order.

'I bet it was because Joe doesn't have sea-legs,' I commented her remark.

It was so ironic that I couldn't stop myself from smiling. She sensed it and looked at me, raising her eyebrows. I love it when she does that. She told me that Joseph didn't suffer from seasickness. I turned the page to find photos of the princes playing football with some children at a garden party. Clarisse and I recalled memories, just like in the old days. Closing the photo album she suddenly said: ´Joseph will not stop fighting for me. Wherever he is.´

There wasn't a hint of doubt in her voice. She placed the album on the table.

´He will prove that I'm innocent Andre.´

It upset me. There was a warmth in her voice and eyes that I didn't like to see for anyone but myself.

´I'm privileged to have two such good friends,´ she said, placing her hand on mine.

I took the opportunity and lifted it to kiss it.

Leaving Clarisse to her tea and her book, I got myself a chair with a view and picked up my Pratchett.

So Joe Romero was her other good friend. Joe with his Spanish charm.

I'd heard how furious he'd been when his Queen was arrested. Rumour had it that he'd told her to get away. She had refused, just as she'd refused to come with me.

Romero's main objective would be to find Clarisse, whether or not that American girl had been right about his feelings. Unluckily for him, when it comes to activities that require delicacy I dislike the idea of employees being involved during the entire process. Under normal circumstances Romero might have traced one track, only to learn that he was on a dead-end road. The chance that he'd then pick up another trail was practically non-existent. The fact that he was a wanted man limited his opportunities severely. Against an adversary of my stature, Joe would never succeed. His investigations would lead nowhere.

OoOoOoO

I was woken from my trail of thoughts by her sweet voice.

'I'd better go to bed before I fall asleep on your sofa.'

She rose. I walked toward her.

'Good night my dear.'

'Good night Andre,' she said, and she briefly cupped my cheek.

Her gesture was a pleasant surprise.

'I know, I should shave.'

She shook her head and smiled.

'It looks good on you.'

Through the eye in my door I watched her until she entered her suite.

I'm privileged to have two such friends.

Friends. Had she and Romero been bordering on more than friendship, just like she and I? Surely they had not been lovers or she would have told me so to stop me from making advances.

I touched my cheek. He had a little beard, didn't he?

From now on I would trim, not shave. That decision was easily made. But there was something that I needed to reflect on.

How to get rid of Joe Romero?

...

...

In the coming chapter Andre reasons that his plan to woo Clarisse could do with some help. A dead man's help.