Chapter 6 – C stands for caught
On Monday morning nearly every Genovian paper showed a picture on their front page from a series by Xavier Luna. Genovian Daily, known for its huge head lines, had opted for 'Who's he?' The article accompanying the picture strongly suggested that the handsome gentleman standing very close to Her Majesty was her lover. The respectable New Antiem Times showed a picture of the Queen on horseback, a relaxed smile on her face. The subscript merely said that Her Majesty was enjoying a weekend off. The unknown man on the photo was not mentioned.
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The pictures were discussed nationwide. The Genovians in the Castle had more information than their countrymen but it didn't prevent them from believing their Queen to have an admirer. Hadn't they thought it all along? What else could have caused Her Majesty to be in such a good mood during the past week?
´But didn't she spend the weekend with the Queen of the Netherlands?´ kitchen maid Anna said.
´Yes, she did,´ the housekeeper replied.
´So where does he come in?´
´Maybe the Dutch Queen acted as a chaperone or something.´
´Or she provided an alibi only.´
´Spending the weekend with someone is hardly a crime,´ Mr Jonas replied.
´Didn't say it was! It's just well, he seems quite smitten with her.´
´He got out of the car first, you know, last Friday. And if the head of security hadn't stopped him, I'm sure he would have stepped right toward her,´ a doorman said.
´So you think Mr Romero knows about it?´
´Must be instructed by her, to prevent him from embracing her for all to see.´
´Well,´ Dilson thoughtfully said, an idea forming in his mind, ´the general stayed in the mansion. We had to sleep above the stables. The boss too.´
People looked at each other meaningfully.
´He's a handsome man,´ Mrs Danieli agreed with the Daily. She tilted her head the better to study the picture.
´He admires her, you can see that. And he's got something aristocratic.´
´He is checking her figure while she mounts her horse. That's hardly gentleman like,´ Mr Jonas judged.
´Maybe he ain't a gent but he's a man all right!´ gardener Claude whispered to his colleague Axel. The latter grinned.
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Financial Times was the only paper that didn't have a Luna on the frontpage but to compensate for that, they had placed it next to an editorial ('The Queen's man') on page seven. The members of Parliament were glad for it, for FT was much more dignified to crib from than the Screaming Daily. They rose when Her Majesty entered.
Fifteen minutes earlier a trembling Charlotte had finally admitted that her employer was right in not believing her story about a problem with the distribution of papers, all papers. Charlotte had had no choice but to hand the Queen her usual pile of news. One glance at the first front page had made Her Majesty feel as if she hadn't had the most relaxing weekend in years. Still, when she entered the House of Parliament, she looked just as lovely as when she'd kissed her friend farewell. The members of Parliament, who couldn't but notice her appearance, all thought the same.
The first half an hour nothing was said about the subject everyone was thinking about. When Viscount Mabrey walked toward the speaker's place the tension built with every one of his steps. He smiled wolfishly at the Queen and mentioned an item about education that had been on TV on Saturday. Had Her Majesty seen it?
´You have not?´ he replied when hearing her calm negation. ´Perhaps you were otherwise engaged?´
No coughing, no sneezing. Silence.
´Yes I was Viscount. Pray tell, why do you mention this documentary?´
The Viscount replied that the subject had been the pressure on teachers and that Her Majesty must know from experience how important it was to take a break from time to time.
´I don't have a lot of experience with it Viscount but you are right. Are you proposing to give teachers more days off?´
´No ma'am, I propose to discuss the break you've had last weekend.´
´Oh? This is the House of Parliament, hardly a place to discuss a holiday.´
´I don't plan to enter that discussion ma'am.´
´So you have a question concerning politics.´
´I have an inquiery to make about the... Body of State. That seems political to me.´
The Queen didn't like the supportive humming that greeted the Viscount's reply. ´It seems quizzical to me.´
´I'll be happy to enlighten you. When a picture of my Queen appears in every paper, a picture of her and a gentleman, I start worrying that perhaps she might forget herself.´
The Viscount's colleagues mumbled. The Queen glanced at the prime minister, who was – by the looks of it – arguing with the minister of agriculture.
´I can assure you that I have nothing to do with that picture being made.´
´I didn't imply that you had ma'am.´
The Viscount turned around and asked one of his political friends to hand him the Genovian Daily. The nobleman showed the front page to his fellow Parliamentarians before holding it up for the Queen.
´It is this picture that causes me to worry ma'am. Can you read the head line?´
´I don't need glasses for that Viscount.´
Muffled laughter.
´Did you spend your holiday with this man?´
´No, I did not.´
The Chairman had to silence the members of Parliament.
´You're on a picture with an unknown man and yet you insist you didn't spend the weekend with him.´
The members of Parliament mumbled their appreciation for the Viscount's remark. The Queen was fuming, if only inwardly.
´Have you spend the weekend alone Viscount?´
´I have.´
´Your servants were having time off?´
´Off course not ma'am.´
´So you were not alone.´
´Oh, I see. The thing is, I never ask my servants to go for a ride with me Your Majesty.´
´Hence you don't believe this man is in my service.´
Before the Viscount could reply, the Queen continued: ´Well, you would be right... He is in the service of a friend of mine.´
´If he would be your own servant it would be even worse but this is bad enough as it is.´
´Excuse me?´
´Genovia can't allow its Head of State to be on an intimate footing with a mere servant.´
The Chairman had to call for order. When the noise had returned to an acceptable level, the Chairman addressed the Queen: ´Your Majesty, you have the floor.´
´Thank you Mr Delgando,´ she smiled charmingly, picturing the Viscount hanging upside down from a flying helicopter.
´First, no man or woman is a mere someone.´
Supportive sounds from the socialist and liberal MPs greeted her reply.
´Apart from that, everyone is allowed to choose her or his own friends.´
The Queen noticed that the supportive beating on tables wasn't as loud as it had been.
´I agree, ma'am. But you use an interesting word.´ The Viscount paused for a dramatic second and continued: ´Friends. If this man would be your friend, though a servant he might be a good horseman, he surely seems to appreciate your riding skills - ´
Overruling responses from fellow MP's Mabrey spoke louder: ´- and thus earn your sympathy, I could not object. But would Genovian Daily have asked "Who's he?" in that case?´
´I do not know Viscount, I don't have shares in papers.´
´What do you mean, ma'am?´
´Just what I say. I can't influence the contents of newspapers. Viscount.´
The Viscount glared at his liege.
´You can influence the next head line though. By answering the question: Who is he?´
´I am not going to answer that question,´ the Queen started. Her reply was met with loud exclamations and she raised her voice:´After all it is none of anyones business with whom I spend my time.´
´Ma'am, it is!´ the Viscount bellowed.
The Chairman had to intervene again. When it was more or less quiet, Mabrey bent toward the microphone and softly spoke into it.
´You ma'am, are the Queen of this country, allowed by the late King Rupert -´
The politicians added the obligatory may he rest in peace. Mabrey inwardly smiled. All against one. He'd get her!
´ – and Parliament to rule Genovia. And so far your behaviour has been exemplary.´
The Members of Parliament expressed their support. The Queen was too fixed on what Mabrey would come up with to appreciate it, although she smiled her thanks to the sheep in front of her. The Viscount believed his colleagues were exaggerating.
´However, you will understand ma'am, that Parliament will keep a keen eye on your personal life. After all, you are – if I may – merely a Queen Regent.´
The Chairman had to use his hammer. The Viscount realised that his peers thought he had gone too far. Her Majesty's sweet face didn't give away a thing.
´We can not allow a commoner to get involved with Genovia and our proud country's politics, because you believe it is proper to have someone... close to you. We all know gentlemen-´
He looked around, smiling genially to his brotherhood of Parliamentarians.
´- that our partners long to influence the way we think - ´
He paused, his smile plastered on his face, to give the gentlemen time to laugh. They obliged, a bit nervous perhaps, but pleased with Mabrey's newly found light tone.
The Queen was glad he'd used the word partners for earlier he had deprived her of commenting his phrase 'intimate footing'. ´Standing near someone doesn't imply a partnership Viscount, I really must object to your choice of words.´
´I see Your Majesty. I will be more precise: is this man your lo- beloved?´
Dead drop silence.
´Mr Chairman,´ the Queen addressed Mr Delgando, with ice in her voice, ´pray remind the Viscount that this is the House of Parliament, not Show News.´
Before Mabrey could object, the Chairman did the Queen's bidding. The Prime Minister requested an intermission. His wish was granted and he asked the Queen for a few minutes alone with her. She gestured toward an ante room, knowing every eye was on her.
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´Ma'am. I am sorry for this. And for not being able to talk to you earlier, I only arrived here this morning from Toronto.´
The Queen waved her hand.
Mr Motaz swallowed hard. ´The MPs will demand answers Your Majesty.´
´Do you agree with me that it is my business with whom I spend time?´
´I do Your Majesty.´
´Good. So the Members of Parliament might want answers, they will not get them.´
´Ma'am, your refusal to provide information will only fuel the idea that the man on the photos is your... special friend.´
Queen Clarisse had been a Queen for as long as Motaz could remember. Having to question her about a picture shot by some local photographer, while she was enjoying a well deserved holiday, didn't sit well with him. The Queen having a lover... The point was, he couldn't blame people for thinking she had one. She seemed to glow from the inside. The pictures had finally made him acknowlegde to himself that Her Majesty was an attractive woman. And she was no longer protected from gossip by her wedding ring.
The Queen was reminded of someone else using the words "special friend". She didn't agree with the Parliamentarians who objected to her having a private life, but she was not naive. If she replied now, today's paper could be a paper tiger tomorrow.
´I have a suggestion,´ the Queen told him, ´I will go back to the arena, give Mabrey his answer and demand his apologies. And you will back me on that if need be!´
The Prime Minister nodded. He was more ashamed of himself for not having supported his Queen than she was disappointed in his behaviour. She had other things to consider than her Prime Minister having been speechless.
The Queen dialed a number on her mobile phone. ´B, it's a quarter to ten. Mabrey wants a name. Tell the general I am sorry for having to bring him into the open. Call me will you?´
She broke the connection and dropped the phone in her bag. ´Let's get on with it,´ she said.
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The MPs saw the Queen return, looking as cool as she had when she had left. The Prime Minister however was red-faced.
The Viscount opened the next bout. ´Ma'am. I have asked you a question that remains to be answered.´
´I told you that I would not answer your question...´
She raised her hand to silence the MP's. To Mabrey's dismay it worked.
´... but I feel you will not let go of the subject and since I prefer to discuss politics in the House of Parliament, I will give a short reply to your uncalled-for remark: no.´
Mabrey only cared for the negation. He smiled: ´It would be interesting to know the name of this man you claim not to be what he seems to be.´
The gentlemen behind him remained silent.
´It really is upsetting that these pictures, combined with a few suggestive lines...´ She let her glacial gaze sweep over the Parliamentarians, ´... and vivid imaginations...´
Nearly every member of Parliament felt as if she looked at him personally.
´...have caused all this. I am sorry that the gentleman on the photos, who is the head of the Military House of Her Majesty the Queen of the Netherlands, she is the friend I spent my weekend with, has to go through this. But then, he is a soldier, used to worse.´
The Queen's calm respons, the coldness in her voice and the impressive title of the female friend she had spent her weekend with, all indicated that thank goodness, the man on the pictures merely was a walking gentleman to her. Relieved laughter greeted Her Majesty's reply. The Viscount stood unsmiling.
´Now, Mr Chairman, I believe Viscount Mabrey ran out off time.´
The Chairman confirmed this.
´I will however allow him a moment to make his apologies.´
Silence.
´Mr Mabrey,´ the Prime Minister spoke, ´I believe that an excuse is in order.´
When even Mabrey's political friends cried out: ´Hear! Hear!´, the Viscount had no choice.
He received the smallest of nods from Her Majesty in reply to his insincere apologies.