Conversations on Flight – Chapter IV
Con_man_thor hughmg
no wonder they kept the queen hidden
shes a fuckin 10 id smash her
#mytowerintheprincess
10:43 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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Mercyme! ginastales
I know the Queen means well but still
it's a little insensitive to go to the palace
already.
10:43 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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Quint Jones quint_lucy2
king william not even buried and the
queen's already measuring the drapes
#ripwilliv #notmyqueen
10:44 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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ITV News itvnews
PM office has announced press conference
at 1500 after his visit to The Queen, who is
currently visiting Buckingham Palace.
10:44 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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Byron Twells byteth_at
Replying to itvnews
100 pounds the PM announces ISIS
behind the attack. High time we do
something about these muslims.
10:44 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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Matt Cuthbert gigglycreampuff
Replying to itvnews and byteth_at
no way man gotta be the queen mum
who ordered the hit
#seethosecheekbonesonher
#conspiracycheekbones
10:45 PM – Apr 23, 2017
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There was a hurried procession of boxes down the stairs of the palace.
A neat line of silent house staff descended on the right side with a sombreness that is not usually coupled with cardboard, and slow line ascended on the left empty handed.
The little Queen really needed to work on her timing.
Will passed the thin manila folder in to his other hand and walked behind the royal butler, following his clean sharp steps as they crossed along the centre of the grandiose foyer, the ceiling flying floors above them, then headed upwards. The staff paused in their mission as he passed them, bowing their heads in codified respect, but as soon as they were out of his peripheral vision he could already hear the shuffle of cardboard as they quickly resumed their mission.
He knew what the boxes contained. He had gone through the same act all those years before, only then with potentially lethal alcohol content.
Removing the possessions of the dead.
His brow lowered in a frown as they made their way across the landing to the familiar doors of the royal sitting room. What was the Queen thinking, making her way here before the funeral? His director of communications almost had a fucking conniption at her idiocy when they were told that morning she was driving out from the estate. All the clout she had garnered from her address could be gone in just a day.
He knew he shouldn't care so much. She was only a figurehead, a hollow crown - and yet…
And yet she had done so well the night before. He couldn't just sit by and watch as she squandered that.
The butler headed to a stop before the doors, then primly turned around to him and waved a hand out to the side. "One moment, sir."
Will stopped in his place and brought the manila up to both hands as he ran a finger along the smooth edge of it and watched as the butler disappeared behind the large doors. He looked down the richly carpeted landing, but for a palace in such motion there was surprisingly no one around. He could hear the scuffs and shuffles of the dutiful staff rising up from the levels below, but it seemed in front of the new Queen, they hoped to keep their actions unseen.
The door opened once more, as the grim face of the old tutor-cum-Private Secretary emerged onto the landing and gave a curt nod before finding a perch opposite him and staring him down in silence. The butler stepped out between them, along with the young bodyguard he remembered seeing when he first met the Queen, when the butler turned to Will with a bow.
"The Queen shall see you now, sir."
Will couldn't help but look on in amusement as the Private Secretary's face seemed to fall into a glare as she watched him step up to the door, but he had to turn away.
Obviously not her favourite, then.
With a small thank you to the butler, Will stepped over the threshold and into the familiar sitting room when the door was closed behind him.
"How good to see you, Mr Melbourne." It was strange seeing the young woman jump up from the chair King William so recently always sat, but still she seemed to remarkably fit the position.
"And you, Ma'am." Will stepped towards her and took her hand with a bow. He had wondered if she would keep up the little nickname she'd anointed him with the night before, but obviously not. He didn't want it to bother him.
"Do you want anything?" She twirled around in her natural energy and waved to a small table that had been adorned with trays, as her little dog circled around it excitedly. "Tea, coffee, biscuits? A lady brought them in a few minutes ago but I have no idea what to do with it, really." She gave him a small hapless smile, which he couldn't help but join in with.
"Thank you Ma'am, I'm fine."
He couldn't say it was exactly the same set up as her uncle always had. Couldn't say the reason there were extra biscuits was because the young boys would run through the meetings occasionally to knick them. So instead he smiled.
"They've all been frightfully nice to me – the staff, I mean." The Queen floated back down to the chair, as Will poised for his chance to question why on earth she thought it a sensible thing to be here. "Not exactly sure why – I mean yes, I guess I'm their boss now – but still, I know they're packing up. They were pretending they weren't when I met them all, but I knew." Her eyes darted downwards, causing him to step closer.
"How did it go? The meeting, I mean."
"There were a lot of people. Like, a lot." She looked up at him with an exhausted smile, which seemed almost forced. "I had only seen a handful here and there when I visited here a couple of times before, but there they were, all lined up. Took me hours to go through everyone."
"Go through?" Will's brow rose as he sat himself on the opposite lounge.
"Talk." She replied as if it were obvious. "They were very fond of my uncle's family, and so was I. That's why I came here. Thought if we're going to go through this we may as well go through it together. But I'm sure I've only managed to annoy them."
"I'm sure you haven't at all Ma'am." Will couldn't help but protest. "That was a very kind thing for you to do."
The Queen gave a small smile then looked away from his gaze. "Perhaps I will have that tea. I'm feeling rather tired really." The dog skipped by her feet as she leaned over to the small table and took the ornate teapot into her hand.
"It must have been an emotionally exhausting morning for you, Ma'am."
"That's the word." She raised her brow as she poured the tea into the cup. "Emotionally exhausted. I feel like I've been exhausted for months now. But it hasn't even been two days." She looked into her teacup and gave a small sip before her blue eyes darted up to his, catching him unawares. "It is good to see you today, though."
Right.
To the actual purpose of his visit.
He readjusted himself in his chair, uncrossing his legs from the accidental casualness he found himself in and sat himself up. "I wouldn't say that just yet Ma'am. I've come here today because my office has scheduled a press conference this afternoon and I thought it best if I give you an intelligence debrief before then."
The Queen had stilled in her spot.
"The plane?"
"Yes."
"Ok." She slowly placed her tea cup back onto the table then flattened out her long pleated skirt on her lap and sat ready in attention.
Will pushed the tea and coffee tray to the side then carefully slid a finger to the back of the manila folder, locked in the other documents and brought the last three large photos out, then laid them one after the out onto the table.
"British investigators on the impact site in Saudi Arabia have found evidence that flight BA01 was shot down by a single surface to air missile to the tail of the plane. Now, these photos here are from United States intelligence satellites – they were taken about 25 minutes after the plane was shot down. If you look here, you can see these grey squares here, that's three four wheel drives, and in the middle there, US intelligence say that is a Buk missile system."
The Queen looked up from the photo she had taken from the table to inspect. "A what?"
"A kind of missile launching tank made in Russia."
"But if it's Russian, what's it doing here?"
"That, Ma'am, is the question." He gave a small sigh.
She wasn't half smart.
She continued to study the barren landscape of the photo. "Where is here?"
"Qatar, Ma'am – about 53 kilometres from the border with Saudi Arabia. And that is where things get a little murky. The Saudis have been quick to point to Qatar as being a hub of funding towards groups such as Al Qaeda and ISIS, so if they get their hands on pictures like these then god knows they'd start yelling that the Emir of Qatar shot down the plane himself."
She frowned. "You think the Saudis are lying?"
"I think there may be some truth in it. But also quite a lot of self-interest. You must understand, the Saudis and Qataris have not been the best neighbours of late. So I'll be waiting for the intelligence community to come up with more until I make a conclusion. Besides, no organisation has claimed responsibility for the attack yet."
"And that's something they like to do, don't they?"
"Very much."
"Strange." She creased her small brow in thought.
"I'm afraid everything surrounding this attack will only get stranger from here on out, Ma'am." Will looked at her gravely as they stalled into silence, but then he followed as her eyes looked down to the manila folder kept firmly by his side.
"There's more photos, aren't there?"
"Ma'am?"
"In your folder there." She nodded down to his side. "Are they of the crash site?"
Will felt his chest fall. "I didn't want to force…you don't have to look if you don't want to."
"That means…"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"…ok, well let's… here." She shifted in her seat uncomfortably then held out her hand, though her eyes were still looking down.
Will thought briefly of denying her but he knew already it was hopeless, so reluctantly he handed the manila folder to her and watched in silence as she opened it up and saw the graphic photos within.
Discarded clothes. Broken chairs. And figments of humans. Bits of bodies catalogued by garish yellow number markers, a mockery of what was once whole.
He knew what she was seeing.
He studied her face carefully, watching the shock roll over her, her eyes begin to shine with a moisture she'd barely been able to keep away. But there was something else running underneath it all. An undeniable strength and resilience, despite it all.
She fascinated him.
His thoughts were broken by the slap of her hands as she closed the folder between them.
Her face was cold.
"I shouldn't be here."
Will shifted forward in his chair.
"Perhaps you need some air, Ma'am. There's a small garden I know just down from here."
She looked at him finally, her blue eyes piercing him.
"Yes. Thank you."
Victoria's eyes were closed as she leaned back in the wooden bench and arched her face upwards to the sky.
"I've missed this." She said softly, her eyes still shut as Will tried to not make it seem obvious he'd been standing in the same spot and watching her for two minutes. "Being outside." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "It feels as if I've been cooped up inside for ages now."
"Yes, security can be a pain sometimes." Will looked down as he scuffed the grass slightly with his shoe. "But you're safe behind the walls here Ma'am, so no reason you can't roam around here for as long as you like now."
She didn't answer, just sat up on the bench and looked across small hemisphere of garden encircled by trees, as her dog Dash jumped off the bench and began to roam across the grass.
"It is a lovely corner of the garden you've found here." She smiled.
"Yes it is, it is…" Will turned to follow gaze. "Stumbled across it on accident when I went to one of those grand dinners here, always try to come back here since then. Definitely at its glory now with all the flowers starting to bloom. Like over there the scarlet geraniums. Or those brilliant pyramidal orchids." He found himself enthusiastically pointing out the brightly coloured petals before he realised she probably wasn't the least bit interested in horticulture. He clamped his hands behind his back and shut his mouth.
"Do you like gardening?" Her question came as a surprise as he turned around to see her looking at him without a judgemental look on her face.
"Ah… yes, Ma'am. I suppose it is a bit of a hobby of mine."
"What do you grow at Downing St?" She asked enthusiastically.
"Nothing, unfortunately." Will shrugged. "The unstable nature of the Westminster system of government makes it rather difficult to grow roots. Especially if you're a leader of such a rag tag coalition as I am."
"That's sad."
"Yes well it's probably for the better, otherwise Emma would have to drag me out of there daily in order for me to get any work done."
"Emma?"
Will looked up to see a curiously frozen look on the young woman's face.
"My chief of staff."
"Oh, of course."
They fell back into silence, as he listened to the low hum of London traffic filtering through the thick trees, and the excited pants of Dash now rolling in the grass. He looked down to his shoes.
"I'm sorry I showed you those pictures, Ma'am."
"I asked for them."
"Yes, but still – they have disturbed you and I should never have brought them."
She didn't speak for a moment, only watched her dog play on oblivious to their subject.
"You're not going to show them at the press conference are you?" She finally looked up at him.
"No. They will not be released to the public. Nor will the satellite images. But we will have to show some photos and footage of the impact site. Purely wreckage, no casualties. Is that ok?" He edged closer to her.
"Ok." She nodded sombrely.
"Also, Ma'am, should everything go to plan in the next 12 hours, the remains of your uncle and his family are due to return to London tomorrow night."
"Ok. Good." She gave a sigh and looked up again at the sky. "I should be there then. When they do."
"Quite right, Ma'am." Will agreed, when grasped his hands together in reluctance. "Also… I'm sorry for the impertinence, but you should probably consider having at least one person from the press there too, when you go."
"But it's private." Victoria looked up at him as if it were obvious.
Will tried to stop the automatic rebuttal from spewing out of his mouth. She'd figure it out herself soon enough.
She looked over to the trees then gave a sigh. "I guess… I guess one photographer can come."
"Very good, Ma'am." He let out a breath of relief. "I promise, this will all get easier once Lehzen finds you a proper Press Secretary."
"She's about to interview a couple possibilities today. Seems I need an army to function."
"I don't know Ma'am, you seemed pretty proficient at walking out here without me having to carry you, let alone the Queen's Guard." He tried a smile. "You are a highly capable woman, Your Majesty, everyone else around you is just there to manage the nonsense."
She looked up at him with a small smile, then gave him a curious look. "Was there much of a huff online when they all found out I was at Buckingham Palace today?"
Will froze. He had been meaning to school her at the irresponsibly of her coming here today, but he found it impossible to find the words.
"I ah… I find I'm rather a Luddite when it comes to social media. Only just had my flip-phone wrenched out of my hands and replaced with a far less embarrassing Apple product." He dodged with a shrug and stepped closer towards her.
"My phone's been stolen too. Miss Skerret my bodyguard took it because it wasn't secure. But she says they'll be giving me a new one soon, all with safe browsing and emails and stuff."
"Her Majesty's Secret Snapchats?" He raised his brow in jest.
She let out a laugh. "See! You're not that clueless. But no… I suppose all that kind of stuff is off limits for me now." She looked down with an unexpected sadness.
"Did you do a lot of that before?" He couldn't help but pry. "Spend a lot of time online?"
"It was my home." She looked up at him with honest eyes. "More of a home than I had in reality. Online I had friends and communities. Here I had… well, Dash." She gave a delicate whistle and patted the edge of the bench when her dog stood up from the grass and potted over for scratch as Will watched on.
She was, despite her young age, hauntingly beautiful.
Before he could stop himself, his right hand reached for the pen tucked away in his inside pocket, while his other delved into his various pockets, looking for a loose scrap of paper.
"Sorry Ma'am, but ah… in the interim of finding…" Will patted himself down but all to no avail. "…of finding a ah, Press Officer…" As a last resort he flicked out the pale green pocket square from his suit and shook it open, then sat down on the other end of the wooden bench and splayed the small piece of fabric against his thigh and started pressing down against it with his pen, slowly scrawling out his number as neatly as possible.
"This – " He whipped up the ruined pocket square in front of Victoria after he had completed the task. " – this is my private mobile number. If you have any questions about handling press, or even after that, anything at all, just give me a call or a text, and I'll ah, see what I can do to help."
He could have sworn her cheeks began to blush slightly as she looked at the pocket square then scooped it up lightly in her hand.
"Thank you, Mr M." She gave him a heartfelt smile.
"You're very welcome, Ma'am." He felt a warm glow suddenly build up inside his previously hollow chest.
A frown came over his face and he quickly turned out towards the trees before she noticed his change, but a realisation was slowly forming in his thoughts.
Fuck.
He was in danger, wasn't he?
N/B:
DANGER!
* does carlos danger dance *
Yessss indeedy Will can see the headlights heading straight for him. But which danger is this he's worried about? Hmmmm… the questions continue, though I'm sure you know the answer. So maybe the questions stop. Is a question still a question is there's an answer? Probably.
Now my brain is obviously no longer functioning.
Just wanted to say thank you for returning to this here fic of mine it means so much. If you like, if you hate, if you're mildly amused or bemused, please review! They the mitochondria of my writer brain – they power it the fuck up!