Clarisse sat in the drawing room of her penthouse suite in the Ritz, London, staring absently into her tea cup. She had only arrived in the city a few hours ago from France. France had become tiresome, much as had Italy and Spain before it. Now she was in London, preparing to see her boys. The rain splattered off of the thick glass, echoing eerily in the empty room. She couldn't say the trip had been bad, or good, rather she had been indifferent to it. She couldn't deny it had relaxed her but it certainly hadn't eased her mind, or conscience. A month had passed, another month loomed before her and yet she couldn't build up the bravado to face it. Rupert had been right to suggest this time away but it still made her feel useless. Perhaps the worst thing about it was, that out of all of the people she could or should have missed, Joseph was the one who filled her thoughts day and night. A month without him had only thrown her further into needing him. Fresh in her mind, the writing in the field often occupied her thoughts, or his hands running over her body, or his lips on hers, or the gravely scratching of his voice. She knew he couldn't phone her, her calls were monitored, she knew he could not write, her mail was opened for her. She sighed, everything was done for her. The ringing of her phone brought her attention away from her morosely stated mind and back into the real world, where things needed to be attended to.
The voice on the end lightened her considerably, even if it wasn't Joseph.
"Pierre…..yes, three o'clock……mhmm….ok, darling love you too, tell your brother I love him also". She smiled to herself as she stood up, brushing the crumbs of lunch from her suit. The boys were to be picked up at three, supposedly by her security. She had taken it upon herself to hire a sporty little number and give the security the weekend off. She smiled slyly at her own persuasive antics and ingenuity as she picked up her handbag.
Smiling at Josephs' second in command as she stepped into the chilly corridor, she pulled her jacket round herself and headed for the lift. The security man shook his head slightly, he really couldn't get away with the fact she could win him or rule over him so easily, she just done as she pleased. Slumping against the wall, he admired her from behind. She might be a tough bitch, but she sure had a nice figure.
Harrow college looked drab on a dank day as Clarisse drove the red Ferrari up the winding road towards Harrow hill. Boys of breeding poured out of the old oak doors, hats on heads, heading for limos and Bentley's , shuffled along by aggravated teachers and Butlers and Nannies. Clarisse felt terribly strange turning up here, considering all the parents knew precisely who she was. She figured it best to, even in the conditions, slip on sunglasses, trying as best possible to disguise her identity.
Opening the car door, she extended a graceful leg on to the wet gravel and stepped out of the car, shielding herself under a brolly. No sooner had she done so, that an excited cheer rang out of a boy huddled within a group under the doorway. The young boy emerged, strapping in appearance now he had reached thirteen. He carried the air of a boy that was born royally, though his deep eyes told a different story. Dropping his satchel and case in the mud, he ran towards his mother, jumping excitedly into her arms as his brother trailed just as joyfully behind. Reaching her, both boys wrapped strong arms around her waits, hugging her tightly.
"Mamma!", Pierre laughed, grinning at her, " I thought you were sending security!"
"No, no", she smiled, kissing her younger sons head, " My! Philippe, how you have grown in under a month!"
"Mama, you didn't say goodbye when you fell sick! You just went to Spain!", he admonished, tugging on her hand.
" I know darling, I didn't have the time but now I do, I can make it up to you", she said slowly, her face reddening slightly.
The return to the Ritz seemed to take a lot longer than she had planned, as they diverged into Hamley and Harrods. Thanking the doorman and Assistants of Harrods with a generous tip, she stared rather amused into the boot of the car. Footballs, toys, figures, books, clothes……more toys and books. She smiled again and forced the boot shut, laughing at the exhausted figures of her sons, still in their uniforms, slumping against the bonnet of the car.
"Exhausting day, boys?", she inquired sarcastically, motioning them both into the rather strained car. They slumped into the back seat.
" So, where for dinner?", Philippe suddenly burst, energy returning quicker than lightening as they passed a MacDonald's.
"Well", Clarisse laughed, raising an eye brow at the two figures in the back through the rear view mirror, " I suppose if I pulled over now, there would be two very happy boys occupying my car!"
O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next few weeks seemed to fly in the company of the boys. Soon the nights were darkening by four o'clock, snow was drifting into the streets………it told her it was time to go home, and god was she thankful. A year, a year, the words played over in her head. A year since he had first kissed her, well nearly a year. That lodge seemed years away now, years and years ago. Yet, his touch on her was still fresh on her skin, in her mind. She hugged the fur wrap around her tighter as she stood on the snow covered balcony of her room.
She was finding it exceedingly hard without him now that she knew it was only a day until she could see his handsome features, feel his lips on hers. That pang of guilt roped her body but now, as it often did, disappeared quicker than it had come. Smiling at the thought of him, she turned to go inside, back to the welcoming sight of her boys. Pierre was curled up in a seat by the fire, reading. Philippe on the other chair, reading Polo magazines, she often wondered if her youngest son cared for anything else. Chuckling slightly to herself , she closed the double doors behind her and shivered a little.
She wondered what he was doing now, curled up in his leather chair by the security monitors, hugging a hot cup of coffee or something stronger. She sighed again, whishing she could be with him. That was however, selfish. Discarding the thought and reasoning, she bid the rather disgruntled boys to bed and quickly followed, her last thoughts of him, his smile, his skin……….
The plane journey was boring and tedious for her, considering that one of her sons was on Genovia 3, the other on 2 and she on 1. This rule always got to her, why on earth must they insist that those boys be separated. It even more made a point of the fact they were heirs to the throne and callously, nothing more. She sighed and stared blankly at the trace agreement before her, reading but not registering. Her head was on another planet, planet Joseph, she thought wryly. She hoped, slightly, he'd be there on the tarmac to greet them but that was unlikely, according to his security men, he spent half of his free time riding that damn motor bike. She smiled slyly to herself at the thought of him straddling a motor bike in leather, licked her lips, then reminded herself thoughts like that were highly inappropriate. Sighing, she sat back and fell quickly asleep.
Awaking drowsily as the captains voice invaded her sleep, she opened her eyes to find they'd already arrived on the runway of Pyrus airport. The snow had been reverently sloshed back from the runway, embanking highly along the edges. Forcing herself up, she looked out into the window, desperately hoping he'd be there. No, apparently that job had been left to Rupert. Stretching out a little, trying to ignore the disappointment, she gathered her regal bearings and wrapping her coat tightly around herself, exited through the heavy plane door.