Vuil Bloed
Chapter One
It had been two weeks after the attempt on the Queen's life, but already the hype surrounding the detective who took a bullet for her had died away. It would seem that the people's love for their deceased princess outweighed any loyalty towards the queen and those willing to give their lives for her.
Rumors of her upcoming knighthood ended up being just that: rumors. She was offered by the Queen herself, but after much deliberation, Holly had declined it. Despite the respect and legacy this honor would have brought her, Holly was far more devastated that she could not continue her work as a detective. Working in the field, leading the investigation, bringing the scum of England to justice... sure it was a dirty job. Sure she had witnessed terrible things, but it was still her life.
Knighthood couldn't replace the thirty years of passion and excitement. It couldn't make her forget her triumphs and her failures. All of that was gone now.
"…You have saved my life, Mrs. Chekandino," the Queen had told her upon Holly's visit to the castle. "I am your queen, but I have never met you. You have no idea who I am. To take a bullet for a complete stranger is truly commendable, but I cannot let you leave here without expressing my sincerest gratitude."
It was noon at Buckingham Palace. The sun shined through the window of a small, elegant chamber that beheld the Queen and her wounded savior. The aging women donned black clothing, with the Queen in a knee-length dress and Holly in a formal shirt and dress-pants. Because of her condition, Holly had been in a wheelchair at that time. The injury had made walking unbearable, and the doctors told her she might never be able to walk the same way ever again.
"I don't need anything from you, Your Majesty." Holly answered, her voice soft and uncharacteristically humble. "I was doing my job and I refuse to take advantage of your gratitude."
"The Queen of England is in your debt, Mrs. Chekandino," was the reply. "If you do not except the knighthood, I will not force you into this, however…"
Holly watched as the Queen stepped away from her. She moved across the elegant room to a desk. When she returned, there was a folder in her hands. She opened it up and thumbed her way through many papers before stopping on one particular file.
"…Before you arrived, I took the liberty of going through your records," her eyes lifted from the page and glanced back at the woman in the wheelchair. "I couldn't help but notice something quite troubling within your medical records."
Holly sighed and closed her eyes. She should have expected this. "…Troubling is a very mild understatement, Your Majesty."
The Queen lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the paper. "…Am I to believe that your family is in this same mess as well?"
Holly nodded, but said nothing. This was not an easy fact for her to face. The Queen seemed to realize this almost instantly.
"To repay you for your services, I would like to cover your family's health insurance." The Queen's words struck Holly like a kick to the stomach. She didn't have time to register what she was saying when the Queen continued. "All of your medication, all of your finances for you, your husband, and your children are to be covered by the Royal Family. We will give you our best physicians. We will make sure that this condition does not… advance."
It felt as though hours had passed. Holly stared at this woman before her with her eyes large and her mouth wide open. She remembered when she had first married Abrahem a year after Apartheid had ended. Her British parents were not ecstatic about the idea of their daughter marrying a black man, and after the marriage they had never spoke again. She remembered many years after the marriage that her parents had decided to cut all communications with her after she told them of this new situation she was in. Her own family, who could have donated at least a fraction of their wealth into helping her, had turned her away.
But this woman, the Queen of England herself, was willing to cover everything for her. And her family.
"There is no cure, I'm sure you know this…" The Queen added quietly. "My physicians will help you to the best of their abilities, but there is no way to ever go back…"
"…I…" Holly's voice was breaking. She was not one to cry with joy, but this sensation was so overwhelming that forming words was becoming a hassle. "…I am no fool, Your Majesty. I know we will never be cured. But… we simply want to live. We want to be like everybody else…"
"So you except my offer?"
The Queen approached the wheelchair. Her small hand moved towards the lady before her. And after a long moment of stillness and silence, Holly's hand rose to meet hers.
"…Thank you, Your Majesty." She whispered, trying her damndest to keep her voice from quivering. "…Thank you, so much…"