August 31, 1997 – Balmoral Castle, Scotland
Peter Phillips, the Queen's eldest grandchild, sprinted down the main hallway toward the grand foyer of Balmoral Castle, a football under his arm. He slowed when he passed the front stairway and saw his 15 year -old cousin, Prince William, on the other side of the foyer, talking into an old style telephone on the cherrywood side table.
"Wills!" he called in a loud whisper, catching William's attention, "Come on! Some of the lads from the village are here for a game!"
William smirked and nodded, eliciting a smile from Peter as he turned on his heel and jogged toward his main destination – out the front door and onto the south lawn.
When Peter was out of sight, William turned his attention back to the receiver, "Okay…Yes, Mum…."
William then caught sight of his father coming down the stairway, tucking the latest addition of the Times under his right arm.
When Charles reached the landing, William said hurriedly into the phone, "I love you, too. Look I have to go now…. I'll see you next week, alright?"
Suddenly, William tossed the receiver to his father as he stepped away from the phone and sprinted toward the front door.
Charles lunged and caught the receiver with his left hand before it hit the floor, bringing it hastily to his ear as he maneuvered the cord to keep it from strangling him.
"Hello?" he asked
"Hello, Stranger." Diana replied in a surprised but sweet voice.
Charles smirked, tossing the newspaper on the table next to the phone as he watched after his son.
"Sorry you got dropped," he said, "Looks like William got a better offer."
"Well…" Diana chuckled, "Teenage boys – what can you do?"
Charles smiled, "Stand back and watch as they throw phones at your head."
"But, it sounds like you saved me from hitting the floor, for which I am eternally grateful," Diana said
"Well, I am a prince," Charles shrugged as he a saw 12 year old Harry coming down the hallway, heading toward the front door to join the game as well, hastily dressed in shorts, unlaced sneakers and pulling a jumper over his head.
"Harry is coming now….Hold on…" he added into the receiver, then reached out and grabbed his younger son by the arm, gently but surely steering him toward the side table.
"Harry, here…." Charles said, putting the receiver to his ear, "talk to Mummy while I lace your shoes."
"Hi, Mummy," Harry said cheerfully.
Charles smiled as he knelt down and slowly and deliberately tied the laces of his son's right shoe, then turned to the left one as Harry answered Diana's questions.
"Yes," Harry said, "Pa took me yesterday to get new trousers for school. Yes…."
A loud, sudden surge of excited voices outside caught Harry's attention and he said hurriedly into the receiver, "I love you, Mummy. Here's Pa."
Then, he hastily handed the phone down to Charles, who took it and chuckled as Harry raced off toward the front door without another thought.
Charles sighed as he got to his feet and brought the receiver to his ear again.
"Sorry…" he lamented, "I tied as slowly as I possibly could."
"That's alright…." Diana said soothingly
There was a moment's pause, then Charles asked, "How is your holiday?"
"Good," Diana answered, her voice light and whimsical, "Dodi and I have had a wonderful time. We're in Paris now and it's gorgeous. Especially at night."
"You sound happy," Charles said softly
"I am," Diana replied just as softly
"You deserve it," Charles lamented, "After everything we put you through—"
"Don't forget," Diana interjected, "You deserve it, too."
Then there was another pause as Charles absorbed her words and her kindness.
Diana broke the silence, "Well…give the boys a hug from me."
"I will," Charles promised
"Goodbye, Charles."
Charles opened his mouth to reply, but a only a dial tone resonated in his ears.
Diana was gone.
# # # # # #
September 1, 1997 – Paris, France
Charles took in a steadying breath as he stood in the waiting room of Pitie-Salpetriere hospital in the center of Paris, straightening the shirt cuffs of his suit nervously as he waited with French President Jacque Chirac and his private secretary, Stephen Lamport.
"Sir?" Stephen asked gently, tucking his briefcase under his arm, "Are you sure you wouldn't want to sit—"
"No…" Charles interjected, shaking his head, then turned and started pacing toward the row of chairs where the French President sat, two of his protection officers standing behind him.
President Chirac gave him a sympathetic smile as he turned back on his heel and walked toward the large picture window that looked out on the back of the hospital property.
But, Charles didn't see anything on the other side of the window, only what was in his own thoughts at the moment.
Eighteen hours before, Charles has been asleep when his private secretary phoned and told him that Diana had been in a car accident in Paris – that they knew that Dodi Fayed was dead—and that Diana's was alive, but her condition was grave.
Charles sat on the edge of his bed, the phone receiver still in his hand, the line beeping as he stared out into the semi darkness of the early morning hours and feeling as though his chest had imploded.
The pain had not yet subsided when he forced himself throw on his robe, leave his room and make his way down the hallway, instinct leading him toward his boys.
Taking in a deep breath, he had opened the door to see William and Harry sleeping in their twin beds, their faces relaxed in sleep and blissfully unaware of how their life might drastically change if Diana did not walk away from this tragedy.
After a few moments, Charles turned back and slowly closed the door.
When he reached the bottom of the main staircase, he found that everyone in the house—including his father, mother and grandmother - were awake.
His mother was the first to express concern and worry for Diana, lament that Fayed was dead and consult Charles whether they should wake the boys.
Her advice was that Charles should let them sleep until more information was gleaned about the Princess of Wales' condition.
Charles agreed, not quite ready to face the situation just yet.
When he was unable to watch the television coverage for another moment, he retreated to his office to throw himself into some work.
Charles was just signing the last of some land lease documents for the Duchy of Cornwall, when his private secretary found him, just after 4am, and informed him that Diana had succumbed to her injuries.
From then on, almost everything was a blur…
Every nerve in his body was frayed and felt like it was on fire…
Even now, standing in the quiet of the hospital where Diana's body lay, he wasn't sure what he said to the boys when he woke them later that morning and told them that their mother had died. He just remembered hugging them and wiping tears from Harry's face.
One thing Charles was sure of – the one thing that wasn't a blur—was that he knew he had to –insisted actually – that he go to Paris and escort his ex-wife home to England.
He owed that to his sons, and, if he was being honest, to himself.
The Queen was adamant that he not go. She was convinced that it would draw too much attention and, she was certain, ire toward Charles.
But, in the end, after Charles said that they owed it to the future King of England to bring his mother's body home on a royal flight, the Queen relented. She loved William and Harry and would commit to anything for their sake.
Camilla was also against the idea. She felt that Charles' duty to Diana was over and that he shouldn't feel obligated to put himself in a position that would draw more fire on himself and his family.
However, Charles suspected she wanted to protect her own family as well, especially now that their relationship was public knowledge.
The only two people at Balmoral he seemed to have in his corner, besides his sons, were his grandmother, who offered her own royal flight – kept on standby in case she, to quote her words "kicks the bucket"- to Paris.
And also, his father, Prince Philip. The gruff exterior his father often displayed melted away that night when he walked into his son's office and reassured him that he thought that he was doing the right thing by going to Paris to bring Diana's body home. That the past was the past and everything he did going forward should be what was best for his sons.
Charles appreciated that his father was on his side. In fact, Philip even placed a kind hand on his son's shoulder and asked if Charles should perhaps talk to someone about Diana's death. That he would be grieving too—like the boys—in his own way for his ex-wife.
"You don't have to talk to me or your mother—we aren't always good at the warm and fuzzy. But, you should talk to someone—your grandmother, perhaps? Or—"
Charles stopped him right there. He didn't have time for his grief, he said. He needed to focus on William and Harry. Besides, most of the family didn't have the best impression of Diana now and it might color their ability to be kind and sympathetic. Diana hadn't been on her best behavior during their divorce. But, then again, neither had he. Their relationship was much better after the divorce was finalized.
However, Philip countered that in order to be there for the boys, he needed to have someone there for him.
Charles nodded, but by then he had tuned Philip out.
When Philip left, he made Charles a promise that he would have someone here for him to talk to when he returned from Paris.
The next day, after attending church and dining with the boys earlier that evening, Charles boarded the royal flight for Paris. Accompanying him, were Diana's two sisters.
Suddenly, the double doors opened and the women in question, Jane and Sarah, came through. Sarah held a sobbing Jane against her left shoulder as they walked, obviously distressed after seeing their younger sister.
When Charles quickly turned on his heel to face them, Sarah smiled sadly at him and nodded, signaling to him that it was his turn to go in.
His heart plummeted into his stomach and he stood frozen, staring at the doors for a long few moments as the women wove their way around their ex-brother-in-law to the waiting row of chairs behind him.
Finally, Stephen walked past him and opened the door for him.
It was a gesture of support and Charles gave him a small grateful smirk.
With a quick intake of breath, he cleared his throat, bit his lip and began walking forward.
When he reached the door's threshold he turned to his private secretary and whispered, "The royal standard is on the casket?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And the flowers we ordered?"
"They were delivered this morning, Sir. I inquired."
"And she does have a casket?"
"Yes, Sir. I spoke to the hospital. They took care of it."
"Good," Charles sighed, "Because if we left it to the royal undertakers she'd be coming home in a wooden crate—"
Charles looked down as his voice broke and he stopped abruptly. Then, he walked through the doors toward the doctor waiting there guided him down the long white, sterile hallway.
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Charles took in a deep breath as he slowly approached the open casket in the middle of the darkened room.
Of course he had attended many funerals for family and friends and a loved one lying in an open casket was nothing new to him….but, somehow this was very different.
They hadn't been his wife.
As he reached the side of the casket and saw Diana lying there in peaceful repose, Charles' breath hitched and he brought the back of his hand to his mouth to keep a gasp from escaping, tears threatening the corner of his eyes.
After a moment, without thinking, he lowered the hand from his mouth and reached out to gently lay his hand over hers, crossed on her chest.
He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath and somehow kept the tears back.
Then, after a long silent pause, Charles pulled his hand slowly away and brought it to the inside front breast pocket of his suit.
From it, he pulled a small black velvet jewelry box, and opening it, glanced down at Diana's Princess of Wales insignia ring, the one he had bestowed upon her before their wedding day.
Chares had gotten it back in the divorce when she was stripped of her title – an action he later regretted being so hasty in doing.
Slowly, Charles closed the box and reaching forward, lifted her hands and placed the box gently beneath them.
"Goodbye, Diana." He whispered
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Charles gently ushered Sarah and Jane out the doors of the entrance to Pitie-Salpetriere and down the steps, following Diana's casket as it was carried out and loaded into the back of a waiting hearse.
Camera bulbs flashed and the nearby crowd whispered as the entourage got into the vehicles behind the hearse.
As they drove through Paris, Charles was touched by how many people saw the motorcade to the airport and stopped their cars or stood in silence outside shops and café's as they passed
Then his eyes focused forward and looked through the windshield at the hearse with the flag draped casket visible through the back door glass. And he thought how typical this reaction was to the beautiful, kind, and compassionate woman who used to be his wife.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
They had all silently filed on board after Diana's casket. Arrangements had been made so that the entourage took up the seats in first class and the back seats had been removed so that there was room for Diana's casket after Charles expressed horror that the pilot had initially wanted to place her casket in the cargo hold for the trip home.
After they were settled in their seats, Jane turned to Sarah next to her and they shared a sad smile, then looked back down the aisle toward the back, where Charles walked toward Diana's casket, sitting alone except for one soldier in a chair next to it.
Upon Charles' approach the man stood and bowed formally, then engaged the Prince of Wales in a short conversation before taking his leave and allowing Charles to take up his chair next to Diana's casket.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Charles took a seat in the chair next to Diana's casket and, without thinking, reached his right hand out to rest on the flag draped over the casket. He closed his eyes as his fingers felt the fabric and instantly, his mind was flooded with memories.
Diana peeking at him shyly from behind the pedestal planter in at Althorp…
Diana smiling down at him in his roadster at the Windsor Horse Show…
Diana holding his arm as they faced the cameras during the announcement of their engagement…
Diana walking down the aisle toward him at Westminster Abbey in a dress of white taffeta, taking his breath away….
Diana smiling sweetly as she lay in bed next to him, resting her chin on his bare shoulder….
Diana smiling in a hospital bed as she handed him newborn William…
Diana taking Charles' extended hand, coming close to him and dancing with him in Sydney…
Diana watching Charles help William and toddler Harry roll down the grassy hills at Balmoral as they giggled and laughed…
Diana playing in the pool with young William and Harry at Highgrove…
Diana and Charles fighting about Camilla…
Diana sitting across from him at the table with their respective secretaries, her eyes cast down….
Diana sitting down next to him on the sofa after they signed their divorce papers, tears streaming down both of their faces….
Diana and Charles smiling sadly at each other across the room at Christmas at Balmoral as they helped the boys open their gifts the first Christmas morning after their divorce…
19 year old Diana waiting for Charles on the balcony at Althorp as he pulled into the circle drive…
37 year old Diana raising a hand in farewell as Charles' car pulled out of the Kensington Palace drive…
# # # # # # # # # #
Charles looked out the window in forlorn silence as his car pulled up the drive to the Balmoral Estate.
When the car came to a halt, he nodded to the waiting footman who came out to greet him and opened the door for him and his private secretary, Stephen Lamport.
As Charles straightened, he turned toward a commotion at the side gate and saw Harry and William, dressed in stalking gear, getting into a Land Rover with Prince Philip and the game warden party.
Charles took in a breath and it came out in a relieved sigh. At least the boys were taken care of for now – distracted- and he wouldn't have to face them for a couple of hours.
He then turned and walked up the main stairs behind Stephen.
# # # # # # #
Charles had just made his way into the main foyer, when Stephen approached him and presented him with a note that the footman had handed him.
Charles thanked Stephen, then dismissed him as he opened the envelope and started walking toward his office.
It was from Camilla.
Charles slowed and read the message.
"I'm here if you need me. -Gladys"
Charles let out a slow and steady breath then crumpled the paper in his hand and continued walking down the long, red carpeted hallway.
# # # # # # # #
Charles slowly opened the door to his office, surprised to see the light on.
As he entered the room, his sister, Anne turned from the window next to his desk and met his gaze, dropping her folded arms to her sides—concern and sympathy in her eyes.
Charles immediately stopped in the doorway like a deer in the headlights. He looked so startled that Anne stepped forward slowly, afraid he might bolt.
But, Charles didn't bolt.
In fact, he was suddenly so overwhelmed, in the presence of his lifelong best friend, by everything that had happened in the last 48 hours, his face crumbled in surrender and he let the tears come.
Anne's own face dropped when she saw this and she quickly walked toward him and embraced him, letting him cry into her shoulder.
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