London, England
September 2016

I take tea, my dear

Treading carefully, I walk up to the bird pedestals occupied by Great-Aunt Tanya's parrots. Once there, I look closely at Gilbert who has his head tugged beneath his left wing, ignoring me. Cricket, much more awake, peers at me from beady parrot eyes and bops his head up and down.

"Hello Cricket," I greet him.

"Hello, hello," he parrots (literally).

There's still no reaction from Gilbert, so I do the one thing I know will make him snap to attention.

I sing a bridge song.

"When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all,
I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found…
"

Long before I've arrived at the chorus, Gilbert has extracted his head from under his wings and started flapping his wings excitedly. Cricket gives him a dubious side-eye, but Gilbert has never once heard a bridge song he can't chime in with. Thus, when I begin singing the chorus, he whistles along happily.

"Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down…
"

"Clever boy, Gilbert," praises Great-Aunt Tanya upon entering the room.

"Clever boy, Cricket," insists Cricket, clearly feeling left out.

I laugh, turning towards Great-Aunt Tanya. She gives me a twinkling look, then smiles fondly at her parrots.

"You're also a clever boy, Cricket," she agrees. The cockatoo unfold his yellow crest and nods his head. Gilbert, meanwhile, segues into Elton John's The Bridge without further ado.

Leaving the parrots be, Great-Aunt Tanya takes my hand and leads me over to the sofa by the window and motions for me to sit.

"Tea?" she asks, while already picking up the tea pot from a nearby serving trolley and pouring tea into two cups. I accept the cup she offers me and add some milk to it, but shake my head when she holds out an intricate sugar box as well.

With a wink, she adds three cubes of sugar to her own cup. "I developed a bit of a sweet tooth in old age, I'm afraid."

I laugh. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Which just goes to show that we haven't yet anglicised you completely," Great-Aunt Tanya declares, looking oddly pleased by that realisation. "The British are very snobbish about their tea and most would not agree that three sugars aren't too much."

"People should worry about their own tea," I decide and take a long sip from mine.

"Quite," agrees Great-Aunt Tanya and toasts me with her cup.

We clink cups and drink to that.

But Great-Aunt Tanya has never been one to beat around the bush for long, so before I've even finished half of my tea, she places her cup down on its saucer and instead reaches for a rectangular box covered in dark blue felt.

"I went through one of my drawers the other week and happened upon this," she explains to me, indicating the box. "It made me think of you."

She opens the box, but I can't see what's inside. It's only when she takes my hand and places something heavy on my wrist that I realise what's inside it. It's a bracelet and judging from the weight of it, it didn't come from Accessorize.

It takes a moment of fiddling until Great-Aunt Tanya has closed the clasp, but then she pulls her hands back and surveys her handiwork critically. I just catch her nodding in a very satisfied way, before my attention is drawn by the sparkly bracelet on my arm. It consists of a double row of diamonds that now snake around my wrist and a single star-shaped flower in the middle, which is rendered in red gemstones and designed to have a 3D-like effect. (I fear the stones are rubies, but until someone tells me so for sure, I'll happily pretend they're garnets or spinels or something.)

"An amaryllis," Great-Aunt Tanya informs me and taps on the flower. "For Marilla."

"That is… very, very kind," I reply, still looking down at the sparkly and no doubt priceless jewel on my arm. My brain is going a mile a minute trying to come up with a way to politely refuse it, but it comes up with nothing. I might pride myself on my stubbornness, but I know very well that I'm no match for Great-Aunt Tanya.

"It suits you," she declares happily. A moment passes as she surveys me, before she suddenly clucks her tongue, her expression now one of disdainfulness. "But it does not go with those earrings at all!"

I reach up a hand to check which earrings I'm wearing, recognising them when I feel the smooth roundness. They're a pair of simple pearl earrings that I picked up at Topshop for a few quid sometime this summer. Nothing special for sure, but also not offensive enough to explain the disappointment in Great-Aunt Tanya's eyes.

She, however, explains her reasoning momentarily. "Plastic!" she sniffs. "I don't understand why anyone would see the need to create pearls from plastic. Cultured pearls are a perfectly affordable option for those not able to pay for real ones."

I suppress a smile. I adore Great-Aunt Tanya, but she really has no proper concept of money, bless her.

"I guess at least with plastic earrings, one doesn't have to worry about one getting lost," I tell her, shrugging. I honestly don't have much of an opinion on the matter and anyway, there's still the distracting weight of the bracelet on my arm, reminding me that my Topshop earrings are not the piece of jewellery we should be talking about.

Alas, Great-Aunt Tanya doesn't seem to be able to get over the fact that I'm wearing fake jewellery. Getting up from the sofa, she bustles around the room, obviously looking for something. She finally comes up successful at her vanity and returns, brandishing yet another jewellery case, though this one is smaller and covered in green felt.

"Try these!" she orders (for it is an order) and holds out the case for me.

When I open it, I'm not surprised to find a pair of earrings inside, each consisting of a large round pearl that is circled by tiny diamonds.

"Aunt Tanya…" I sigh. "I can't accept all this."

"Fiddlesticks!" She waves my concern aside with a swift motion of her hand. "I have nowhere to wear them anymore anyway and you suit them. Every young woman should have a good selection of basic jewellery to start out with."

I don't disagree with that. It's only that the times when that collection of 'basic jewellery' consisted of actual pearls and diamonds probably date to before at least the last world war. Nowadays, Swarovski jewellery is as fancy as it gets!

"What about Persis and Katie?" I try weakly. "They might need a starter collection, too."

Great-Aunt Tanya clucks her tongue. "Katherine's tastes run very plain, bless her, and where would Persis wear jewellery? At the stables?"

I open my mouth, perhaps to point out that Persis doesn't spend all her time at the stables (just nearly so) or to suggest she give her jewels to Leslie or Aunt Mary or even Kim, but Great-Aunt Tanya seems to sense that and beats me to it.

Pointing her tea spoon at me to make her point, she declares, "And no, there are no others in the family better suited to receive part of my collection. Mary always wears this modern jewellery and Leslie hangs on to her rubies so stubbornly. No, no they won't do."

It's hard to say whether she's at her most disdainful when judging modern jewellery or Leslie's stubbornness when it comes to her jewel preferences, but in true Great-Aunt Tanya fashion, she clearly won't be swayed in her opinion. She also won't be swayed in her decision to hand over her jewels to me, so I accept defeat, even forgoing my final argument that the red flower of my bracelet would absolutely fit with Leslie's tastes.

"That's very generous of you," I tell Great-Aunt Tanya, bowing my head slightly to show that I won't argue anymore.

A triumphant smile appears on Great-Aunt Tanya's face, though she quickly tries to mask it by taking another sip of tea. (A lady, after all, doesn't gloat.) "It's about time we start building your collection," she informs me, "though of course most of my jewels will end up with you anyway. I have smaller pieces earmarked for others, but the major pieces were always meant to go to Kenneth's wife."

I smile wryly and take a sip from my own tea as I try to decide how to respond to that. Finally, I settle on a plain, "We aren't engaged."

Great-Aunt Tanya gives me a slightly exasperated look. "Don't be coquettish, dear. I'm too old for that. Lord knows the two of you are taking every possible detour on the way to the altar, but everyone knows you'll end up married in the end. Let's not pretend differently."

Opening my mouth, I find I have nothing to say to that either and close it again. To mask my speechlessness, I raise my tea cup again and in my haste, almost manage to slosh the contents over my new bracelet.

"I'll be a hundred years old next year," Great-Aunt Tanya points out. "I don't intend to kick the bucket anytime soon, but I won't be around for very many years anymore either. Do be a darling and give an old woman some peace of mind by assuring her that things will be in good hands after she's gone."

"Well, I…" I reply hesitatingly. "I guess… I guess that when all is said and done, the, um… the chances of Ken and me getting married are higher than, well, the chance of us not getting married."

There's a weary sigh from Great-Aunt Tanya who obviously doesn't consider that an adequately precise answer, but she doesn't press the matter further. Instead, she reaches over to pat my cheek and smiles an affectionate if long-suffering smile.

"You'll get there," she predicts, before adding, with a twinkle in her eyes, "and I hope I'll still be around to witness it."

"I hope so, too," I tell her with feeling and reach out to grasp her hand with my own.

She squeezes my fingers, then let's go suddenly and chugs her tea, before getting to her feet with an agility that belies her age. "Speaking of weddings, I heard you're set to attend one soon and we still need to pick a hat for you," she informs me.

I watch as Great-Aunt Tanya bustles over to a dresser where several hats are already waiting. I saw them coming in, but didn't realise they were meant for me as well.

"Uh, I actually have a fascinator I thought I might wear," I try to interject, but I should have known it would lead nowhere. Great-Aunt Tanya is clearly a woman on a mission.

"Poppycock!" she declares, as expected. "Fascinators! Feather, pointy contraptions that serve no purpose at all! No, no, you'll wear a real hat. You have the face for it."

As she reprimands me, she's already walking through the room again, brandishing a large purple hat that reminds me of the one worn by Rose DeWitt Bukater when she declared the Titanic to be no larger than the Mauretania (or was it the Lusitania?). The parrots flap their wings excitedly when their owner passes them with the wide-brimmed hat.

"Um…" I'm not quite sure what I want to say, but I don't get to say anything anyway before the hat is unceremoniously plonked down on my head. It slides too far down in the front, thus shrouding me momentarily in darkness.

"Beautiful!" announces Great-Aunt Tanya and claps her hands.

And really, who am I to argue with her assessment?

We spend the rest of the afternoon trying on several more hats and drinking several more cups of tea and when I finally return to KP, I have no choice but to call a cab because there's no way I could transport those hatboxes in the tube. In addition to the wide-brimmed purple hat, Great-Aunt Tanya has also presented me with a teal cloche hat, a grey fedora and a red pillbox-adjacent style, all of them ostensibly for everyday wear. Looking at the collection of hatboxes, I can't shake the feeling that I've just become an involuntary participant in Great-Aunt Tanya's scheme to bring hats back, but somehow, I don't mind at all.

Once arrived at the gates to KP, I unload my haul from the cab, all four hatboxes and two jewellery cases, only to find myself faced with the task of carrying everything over to Wren House. The jewellery cases find a safe place in my handbag, but standing in front of the stacked boxes, I'm still deliberating how to transport them when one of the guards approaches.

"Do you need any assistance, Miss?" he asks.

It's not his job to carry my stuff for me, nice as it is of him to enquire, so I hesitate and look back and forth between him and the hatboxes, unsure what to do. Luckily, I'm saved from my conundrum by Teddy appearing on the other side of the gate.

"I've got it," he assures the guard as he steps through the gate and bends down to pick up three of the boxes.

I smile a grateful smile at the guard, then take the last box and follow Teddy through the gate and over to Wren House. Slipping past him to open the door, I wave him inside and motion for him to put the hatboxes down in the hall. Having done so, he means to leave again, but I will hear none of it.

Grabbing his sleeve to stop him, I ask, "Have some tea with me?"

Truth to be told, I've had more than enough tea for the day, but Teddy has been a little off lately and I've wanted to catch him alone for a while now. I'm not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers!

Teddy looks surprised by the invitation, but quickly overcomes that and nods. "Yes, I'd like to. Thank you."

Flashing him a quick smile, I drag him to the kitchen by his sleeve and press him down into a chair, before getting busy making tea. "Is Scottish Breakfast alright?" I enquire over my shoulder.

"Uh, sure," replies Teddy, not looking like he has a strong opinion on the tea either way.

As the tea steeps, I make some light small talk, not wanting to get to the meaty part until I can sit down and look at him. Teddy is a bit monosyllabic, further confirming my theory that all is not well, but he answers my questions politely enough. Teddy is perhaps the most polite person of our generation that I've ever met.

When the tea is done, I pour it into two mugs and add some milk, before carrying it over to the table where Teddy is sitting. He accepts his mug with a lop-sided smile. I sit down opposite him, then reach behind me for the box of cookies I put on the window sill this morning.

"Cookie?" I ask, pushing the box towards Teddy.

He, bless his unsuspecting soul, smiles in thanks and selects a cookie before taking a hearty bite. I watch him closely over the top of my mug, waiting for a reaction – and yes.

Teddy is far too polite to offer is true thoughts directly and even tries to hide his grimace, though to little success. Instead, he coughs and takes a big gulp of tea.

"Uh… I don't think I've ever tasted a cookie like that before," he states carefully.

"No, I didn't think you had," I reply, hiding a smile. "They're my friend Dev's creations. After revolutionising the ice cream business, he's now trying to break into the cookie market. These are some preliminary flavours he gave out to people to gauge their opinions. There's even a survey sheet for you to record your thoughts on."

"Um…" stammers Teddy, clearly at a loss of what to say.

I don't keep him in his misery for any longer though. Laughing, I reach out to pat his hand reassuringly. "It's okay, I know they're disgusting. Dev has unique taste, but those cookies are revolting even for his standards. I'm halfway sure that at least some of those flavours exist solely because he's taking the mickey. Not even Dev could enjoy a mint chocolate lamb Oreo!"

"A… a what?" asks poor Teddy, blinking at me in utter confusion.

"Mint chocolate lamb Oreo," I repeat patiently. "And yes, it's exactly what it says on the tin, lamb and all. As is, I gather, the cheddar chip cinnamon cookie."

"He puts… meat in cookie?" Teddy stutters and looks down at the cookie box with a look of horror.

I nod. "That's Dev for you," I inform him conversationally. "He also came up with freeze-dried roast beef in a chocolate biscuit base and a fish finger cookie sandwich that combines fish paste filling with a lemon and tarter glaze."

Teddy is obviously rendered speechless and just stares at me. Poor guy has never met Dev, I think, and all of this is clearly too much for him to wrap his mind around.

"There are also vegetarian options though," I try to soothe him. "We've got a cookie with a candy floss base, a liquid tabasco filling and a dusting of saffron, plus a biscuit made from gorgonzola dough with a red wine cream and a smattering of liquorice on top."

"Uh-huh," makes Teddy, looking utterly gobsmacked.

I reach past him to select a specific cookie from the box. "This," I tell him, "is Dev's own favourite. Inspired by his time in Scotland, where literally anything ever can be fried, it's the deep fried digestive! In homage to his favourite pizza place up there, it has a creamy tomato-cheese filling baked in with the biscuit instead of, oh, say, something normal like caramel."

Teddy visibly blanches at the sight of such an insult to the nature of cookies. I can't say I blame him.

Giving the cookie box a little nudge to slide it aside, I consider Teddy thoughtfully. I don't speak right away though, instead taking a long sip of tea first as I decide how to phrase my question.

In the end, I settle on a blunt, "So, what's wrong?"

Teddy, poor thing, clearly didn't expect that. His head snaps up and he looks at me, appearing perfectly startled. "Um… uh…"

I smile in what I hope is a comforting and reassuring way. "I couldn't help noticing that you've been a little, shall we say, off recently. I just wanted to offer you an opportunity to talk about it if you want to."

"I… thank you," Teddy replies, catching himself. "That is very nice of you."

"I do have my moments," I inform him modestly, raising a shadow of a smile from him.

He doesn't say anything in return immediately, instead looking pensively down into his mug. I wait patiently (or, well, as patiently as I can manage) and just sip my own tea while he ponders what to say or whether he wants to talk to me at all.

Finally, he sighs and looks up. "I guess I've just been thinking a lot about what I'm doing with my life."

Well, well, well. Would you look at that? If that isn't a subject I can say a thing or two about, I don't know what is!

"In what way?" I ask carefully and neutrally, not wanting to usurp the conversation before he's had his say.

Teddy shrugs. "I guess I just… I kind of can't help feeling that both my siblings found their footing this year while I'm still just, you know, drifting along. Not that I begrudge them that, not at all, but…"

"It's a comparison that comes naturally," I finish when he trails off. "Trust me, I know what you're talking about. I have three times as many siblings as you have!"

He smiles weakly at that. "I guess that's true. Do you also feel they're that much more accomplished than you are?"

"All the time," I reply, raising my mug to a mock toast. (What I don't say is that I've started feeling a little more accomplished since spring, because this isn't the time or place.)

"So, you'll understand that…" Teddy pauses. "Look, I'm incredibly proud of how Persis did at the Olympics and if I could, the only thing I'd change is to make her medal a golden one, but… she's really arrived in the upper echelons of British eventing now. She's found something that sets her apart and gives her… purpose."

I nod when he falters, encouraging him to continue.

"As for Ken, he's always had his military, but there's much more for him now, too," Teddy adds, absent-mindedly swirling the tea in his mug. "He's really stepped into the King-in-waiting role this year and he's got you, too –"

"He's had me for a while," I point out, cutting into his remark.

Teddy looks at me, then shrugs. "I guess so. But it's more than it used to be as well, isn't it? To have you accompany him to the Paralympics was a pretty obvious way of showing where you're heading."

After having declined Ken's invitation to the Olympics Opening Ceremony, I relented and went with him when he opened the Paralympics earlier this month. (I mean, at least that one's shorter!) I sat two rows behind and four seats to the left of him and Aunt Mary, but of course the cameras made sure to capture me nearly every time they filmed him and of course it was widely reported upon. Teddy isn't wrong when he says it was a pretty visible sign to the world that Ken and I have taken a step forward in our relationship, even without anything official to report.

"That's possible," I reply vaguely, because it's not what I want to talk about. "But that's Ken and me and it doesn't have to mean anything for your life. I'm sure there's a super nice woman for you out there as well somewhere. You're just twenty-six, so there's still plenty of time to find her!"

My words, uttered a little off-handedly, have an interesting effect on Teddy. He shifts on his seat, before taking a big gulp of tea, keeping his face hidden behind the mug. I eye him curiously. Could it be…?

"I've… I might have met someone, actually," he admits slowly after he's emerged from behind his mug again.

I beam at him. "That's great news! Tell me more about her?"

"She's, uh… she's from Kansas," Teddy answers, his cheeks colouring slightly. "It's still pretty early days, but… I like her. I think she likes me, too."

"I'm sure she does," I assure him. Liking Teddy is pretty easy, after all.

His eyes flicker down and he draws up his shoulders, clearly not comfortable with the praise nor the subject. "We'll see where it leads. We're having a good time and for now, that's enough, I think."

"Hmm…" I make thoughtfully and sip my tea. "I sense there's a but there somewhere."

He smiles wryly in response. "Not a but per se. It's more… it's nice, having someone by my side again, but… it doesn't solve everything, you know? I still can't help wondering where I want my life to lead. I considered doing the military thing because Ken loved it so and because people have been bugging me about going to Sandringham for ages now, but… I just can't see myself doing that. I'm not cut out for the army and I know it! I just… I have no idea what else I could do to give my life some sort of… additional meaning."

Don't I know how that feels!

"Can't you do something with architecture?" I ask, frowning in thought. "I remember how you loved your studies, so that's something you might enjoy, isn't it?"

"I'd enjoy it for sure," Teddy replies quickly and that tells me he's had the thought before. "But I'm second in line to the throne. It's not like I could join an architectural firm or take any sort of salaried position. Royals don't work in the private sector."

"So, don't." I shrug.

He blinks. "How am I supposed to work in architecture without being a part of the private sector?"

"By not charging money," I state plainly, because really, it's pretty simple once you think about it.

"You want me to just run around and offer people my services free of charge?" Teddy asks, frowning.

"Not people. Charities," I correct. "They need to have rooms to do the chariting, don't they? You keep opening new headquarters for this charity or a new branch of that charity, so there's obviously a lot of building going on. You could approach them and offer your help. Or work with the communities and help with, I don't know, new housing projects or something. So long as it's in support of disadvantaged people, I can't see anyone objecting."

When my little speech is finished, Teddy just stares at me for several long moments. I simply wait for him to think my suggestion through while I finish my tea. Just when I lower my mug, he comes to life as well, chugging the last of his own tea.

"That is… that is devilishly scheming, but also… undeniably logical," he states, looking a little gobsmacked but not displeased by my idea.

I just grin widely, which earns me a cautious smile from him in response.

"So that settles that," I declare, pleased. "And maybe one day, you'll also introduce me to your… Kansanite? Kansonian? Kansaswoman?"

Teddy laughs quietly and I'm glad to see his mood lighten. "I think they're called Kansans."

I shrug. "Whichever. I'd like to meet her when you feel up to it."

"Sure, I'll let you now," he answers vaguely, clearly not wanting to be nailed down. But then, that's absolutely his prerogative and the last thing I want is to put any pressure on him.

Picking up the empty mugs, I mean to put them in the sink, but before I can get that far, a sudden though strikes me and I turn back around. "Oh, speaking about Kansas," I remark, "your girlfriend doesn't happen to own a dog called Toto?"

Teddy stares at me for a long second. "A dog called what?"

"Never mind." I shake my head and turn back to the sink. "It's probably for the best anyway. The scarecrow would have looked very odd sitting in Westminster Abbey."

"The… the scarecrow?" stammers Teddy. "In Westminster Abbey?"

Smiling at his confusion, I just mean to explain, when the kitchen door opens and Ken appears. He quickly takes in the sight in front of him and if he's surprised to see his brother, he doesn't show it. Instead, he merely nods at Teddy and bestows a smile on me. "Hello, you two. What's up?"

"Nothing," I reply with a smile of my own.

"Except that Rilla appears to have eaten the hash cookie," Teddy mutters.

Ken raises both eyebrows. "Hash cookies? I always thought they were hash brownies."

"You can have both," I inform him matter-of-factly. "You can even have hash cake."

"Can I?" He grins, catching his brother's eyes. "The more you know, right, Ted?"

Teddy rolls his eyes at him. I hide a smile.

"I'm always glad to be able to further your education," I tell them as I walk over to the table and pick up a cookie. "You want one?" I ask Ken.

He eyes the proffered cookie warily. "I'm supposed to attend a thing for some youth charity later this evening. You better don't ply me with hash cookies beforehand!"

"Don't worry, it's perfectly harmless," I assure him and dangle the cookie in front of his face.

Ken takes a bite – and immediately starts spluttering. "You call this harmless?" he gasps. "Are you trying to kill me? What even is this?""

"It's one of Dev's new creations," I explain innocently. "To be specific, it's a vanilla iced prawn-stuffed sugar cookie. Don't you like it?"

The glare Ken directs at me is answer enough. But at the same time, I'm pleased to notice that Teddy is laughing and that, after all, was the goal all along. So what if Ken had to taste the prawn cookie to achieve that? Sometimes, you've just got to take one for the team.


The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'An Englishman in New York' (written by Sting, released by him in 1987).


A/N: Special thanks goes to Alinyaalethia, who was a great help in inventing the novelty cookies, just as she dreamed up most of Dev's favourite ice cream flavours back in the day. And come to think of it, I also stole Cricket and Gilbert from her, so that's a double-special thanks this week!
As for you, my dear readers,
I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, despite the unique situation this year. I hope you have a lovely time regardless and please, keep your loved ones close. We often take it for granted, but sometimes, the opportunity to just tell someone you love them gets snatched away faster than we think, so do me a favour and give a call or, if possible, a hug to those you love during this special time.


To DogMonday:
Your instinct was certainly correct about Aunt Mary, all the way back in chapter 9! Uncle Al is exactly like he appears to be on the surface, but there's so much more to Aunt Mary and part of me can't believe I wrote over a hundred chapters without ever getting into it! However, the next chapter I'm set to write (though not post yet, because I write ahead) will feature that very conversation with Rilla I've been planning for so long and I hope I can do it justice. Sometimes, the things don't come out in writing quite as I imagined them in my head, but this one, I'd like to be just so, so fingers crossed it works out!
I think Ken, Teddy and Persis always had sparks of that sibling relationship (and between just Persis and Teddy, it has always been quite pronounced), but they didn't know how to bring it to the surface sometimes. They all three learned a lot in the past years and their father's illness especially strengthened their bond, helping them share a more normal sibling relationship and show it to the world in an easy, comfortable way. As you said, siblings are forever - we didn't chose them, but they have a habit of just not going anywhere! ;)
I like your comparison of the Puddles scene with that scene of Rilla holding Jims in canon! This one here isn't equally pivotal (when it comes to Ken having a sort of epiphany, maybe that moment durent Puddles's christening comes closer), but of course there's something meaningful about those two taking care of a child together! More than one person will look at those pictures the photographers took and wonder when it'll be their own child they fawn over...

To Guest:
Yes, Persis won her very own Olympic medal! I really wanted to give her something that's just her own, something she achieved all by herself through great work and dedication. It's a huge success for her and one that she will always look back upon with pride.