Conversations on Flight – Chapter II
Snap heels.
Straight back.
Hands flat to the sides.
Bow from the neck.
His eyes craned slowly upwards from the richly carpeted floor and granted his first proper look at the new regent. Plain ballet flats met a light pair of skinny jeans, then a deep blue knitted jumper, when he finally came upon her face, dark brown hair haphazardly tied up into a loose bun, a small peculiar nose, young lips, and eyes… wide blue eyes directed straight at him.
The Princess in the Tower.
Now the Queen.
The girl had been standing quite still before she quickly shot out her right arm in front of her in an unpractised move, permitting Will to move on to the next stage of the formality, to which he stepped towards her, took her small warm hand inside his, and gave one final bow from the neck.
"My sincerest condolences, Ma'am." Will silently prayed he got the pronunciation right as he rose his gaze back to her, noticing now her eyes were lined with red. She'd been crying. Of course she had been. He tried desperately to think of what to say next, but everything seemed horribly glib. "The commonwealth is in shock." He tried.
"The world is in shock." Her unexpected comment dropped like his hand from hers, in a quiet, hollow voice, before her eyes focused on his with a new intensity. "Do you know who did it?"
Right. Obviously done with pleasantries. He held his hands behind his back. "I'm afraid Ma'am, we cannot yet confirm that it was an attack, let alone who committed it."
"But there must be some…some organisations or something that you've been watching. Some suspects. On the news they had a whole list of groups just a second after it…" Her anxious defiance fluttered short.
"It is far easier for the media to jump to conclusions, Ma'am, but for the government to do it, the consequences would be very grave." Will tried in his most considerate voice, still unsure how to approach the status of the girl. She was the Queen now. But eighteen. And so thoroughly unprepared for the role.
"Of course." She looked away at the floor, almost like she berated herself. "I'm sorry."
He did not desire that reaction at all. "No need to be sorry, Ma'am – " He quickly stepped in without a second thought. "Your family was attacked. They were…" murdered "…taken away. You have every right to want answers."
She looked back at him silently, her eyes looking him up in quiet assessment, then she turned from her spot in the centre of the room and padded tiredly to the tall windows, her shoulders hanging low.
The silence hung.
"It was Edward's birthday." Her soft voice barely caught his ear. "Less than a month ago." He watched as her head angled itself upwards to the clear autumn sky, a deep red leaf fluttering past from a nearby oak. "I made him a book…"
She fell back into silence.
Say something.
Anything.
"He was a sweet boy." Will attempted, when he was overcome by an unexpected swell of emotion, seizing his throat. Boys about the same age. Both bright. Now gone. "Used to um… interrupt the weekly meetings with your Uncle." He couldn't stop himself. Will's thoughts flashed with boyish grins, a father throwing his young son over his shoulder, holding him securely by the legs, trusting, safe, laughing.
At least he did not have to feel the pain of the living.
A well-known darkness plumed like a suffocating smoke through his mind.
Now was not the time.
"But I assure you, Ma'am, we will find out who shot down the plane, and we will bring them to justice." He started again, the strong words cascading from his mouth before he could stop them, in any attempt to comfort her.
Or him.
"I promise."
She turned from the window finally and to face him from the other end of the wide room. "Thank you, Mr Melbourne."
Silence fell between them once more.
He had no time.
Had to get to it.
He stepped in towards her.
"But, I'm afraid, Your Majesty, I did not come here solely to express my condolences."
She was shook out of her reverie. "No. No of course not. Do you want to… shall we sit?" She waved a hand to the two ornate lounges in the centre of the room, to which Will obediently approached the closest one, when he discovered a previously unnoticed audience to their conversation curled up in the corner of the cushions in a ball of black and white fur.
His eyes flicked back up to the girl who now waited patiently on him by the opposite lounge, which found them both in a surreal and awkward enactment of a Mexican standoff.
Should he tell her?
No.
She remained standing.
He remained standing.
Will finally decided instead to give a small cough, and to direct his eyes to the lounge then back to her, to which her eyes lit up in understanding, and she hurried to sit down on the plush cushions.
Will slowly followed after, but weight on the seat roused the silent canine sentinel next to him, its little head peaking out from its slumber, when it surveyed its unexpected guest from under soft floppy ears. Will instinctively brought his hand out, and presenting his curled fingers to the dog's small wet nose, received silent permission to proceed, to which he began to scratch lightly between the silky curls of the dog's ears.
"Sorry about that." Her stilted voice interrupted, causing him to look back at her, her expression unsure about his own reaction. The dog crawled closer to him, nuzzling its nose into his lap.
"No need." Will gave a small smile then looked back down at the young girl's companion. "It's a sweet thing."
"Come on Dash." She nonetheless patted lightly on the cushion beside her, to which it immediately jumped away from Will and hopped between the lounges to join her. He was about to protest, but seeing her posture soften slightly at the arrival of her friend, he realised calling the dog may have been more for her own sake than for his.
And this was the girl who needed to comfort a nation.
Will shifted forwards on the lounge and clasped his hands together. "Your Majesty, I can't imagine the profound shock you must feel at the events of today, and then finding yourself so suddenly in this position… I assume it was something you never planned for."
She remained silent. Watching.
"But as your Prime Minister, I feel I have a duty to advise that you should…postpone this moment to absorb and to grieve. The country needs to see their new Queen, and you will need to set up a team around you. A Private Secretary, someone to manage all your commitments…"
"Lehzen can do that." She answered simply.
"Lehzen?"
"Yes. She was my tutor."
A Buckingham home school.
"Ma'am… I'm afraid with the specific work-load and insider knowledge required to be your Private Secretary, your old tutor may find herself a little… out of her depth." He caught the corners of her lips beginning to frown. "Perhaps you could ask for a little temporary assistance from Mr Conroy, he has worked within the Royal Family for – "
"I will not have that man anywhere near me." Her voice was cold. Will studied her as her suddenly stiff body as she turned her attention to her dog, her expression dark in thought, when she returned her focus to him with newfound clarity. "Lehzen may be inexperienced, but she's smart and capable. And she's my friend." Will allowed a small nod in understanding as the young girl stroked her small dog again in thought. "But she can have assistance from my Uncle's Secretary for a little bit, so she can properly learn everything the job requires."
Will's stomach dropped slightly. "Excellent decision, Ma'am… but I'm afraid she can only be mentored by the Assistant Secretary now…"
"Oh." Her eyes saddened in realisation.
Everything was affected by it.
A black cloud.
Choking.
Insipid.
Will looked down.
"The ah…King of Saudi Arabia is currently delivering a statement on TV, Ma'am."
"Do you know what he's saying?" She jumped on quickly.
"I presume it is all a repeat of what he told me personally on the phone; that he was shocked as everyone, had no knowledge, and will co-operate with British Intelligence…" He looked at the girl's face curiously as she diligently absorbed his words. "The King has not tried to contact you?"
"No. I haven't been told of any calls."
"Ah."
She glanced away.
"Mr Conroy and my mother are waiting by the door, aren't they?" Her voice was surprisingly monotone. She looked back at him. "I know who he thinks should be my Private Secretary."
"Well then it shall be all the more enjoyable, Ma'am, when you get to tell him he's wrong." Will dared a small smile, when their eyes caught from across the room, and the corner of her lips rose just slightly. "You can receive all the calls you want now. And indeed, many that you don't." She smiled fully now, almost as if in thanks, but then just as quickly as it appeared it quickly faded.
"They'll all be saying sorry." Her eyes flicked to the floor. "I never know what to say in a conversation like that. Everything just seems… inadequate."
"Just thanking them is enough." Will tired with a soft voice. "No one ever expects anything more."
Her gaze returned to his, locking him in.
"Thank you." Her voice was sincere.
"You are very welcome, Your Majesty." He smiled. "I am afraid I must return to Downing St, but I would advise one more thing if I can – that you deliver a statement yourself, to camera, as soon as possible."
She sat still, but gave a small nod. "Of course."
"The cabinet, shadow cabinet and I should be there in support and strength, but this has been a blow for the whole nation, and we need you out there as a beacon of calm and of hope." She nodded again, taking in the responsibility. "I have an excellent team of writers in my staff, I would be more than happy for them to write something up for y-"
"No."
Will stopped in his tracks.
She sat straight on the lounge, blue eyes staring straight at him, determined.
"If I am to address my people for the first time, I will do it in my own words."
His brow rose.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
The Queen suddenly rose from the lounge, tugging her large woollen jumper down. "And I shall deliver the statement tonight. No reason we should keep the people waiting."
Will quickly stood up himself. "I will organize the cabinets."
"Great. I will see you later today then." She stuck out her hand once more, to which he stepped in towards her before enveloping her palm with his wide hand.
"Yes Ma'am." He bowed stiffly from the neck. "Till then."
Never turn your back.
Letting go of her hand, he began to back away slowly, eyes forward as the Queen watched him, a look of forced determination still on her face, as he prayed he wouldn't overstep and back straight into the door.
But at least she could get a laugh out of that.
Sneaking a look at the ground, he could tell the edge of the carpet grew near, causing him to slow down and reached out the fingers of his hand behind his back, till he finally grazed wood.
Stilling himself, he took one final look at the young Queen, standing alone but for her little dog, and gave a parting bow.
A curious woman.
He managed to turn the door knob and shuffle aside for the door to swing open, then turned away into the darkness.
Alone for so long.
He would help her.