ROLE CHANGE CHAPTER TWO
Lofty's mind raced. Was this some angry relative of a patient who'd died during one of his shifts? What was this?
"Karl" 'Favourite Uncle' said almost as if he was cajoling the younger man, "Why do you feel the need to play the bully?"
Karl sullenly put the gun away.
"I'm sorry if we've made you nervous, Mr Chiltern – or could I call you Ben? My name, by the way, is David."
"Nervous? Whatever gave you that idea? Just because you force me to get into your car at gunpoint? And where in hell are you taking me?"
"Just to my apartment" 'Favourite Uncle' replied.
Hundreds of theories filled Ben's head, but he stayed silent.
"Here we are"
This is bloody surreal" thought Ben, but he couldn't help admiring the luxurious room they were showing him into. David rang a bell on the desk and almost instantly, a smiling maid appeared.
"Cointreau for me, neat Vodka for Karl, and- what will you have, Ben?"
"Coffee please. I'm working tomorrow."
The maid actually curtseyed and left the room.
"Let me start by saying that we were both impressed by your acting skills the other month when we saw you in the amateur musical."
"Oh whoopee. And you've brought me here at gunpoint to tell me that!"
David reached into his wallet and took out a photograph.
"Do you recognise this photograph, Ben?" he asked with a smile.
Ben stared in disbelief.
"Yeah; it's me with a dodgy haircut! What the f**k is going on?"
"That" Karl replied icily, "Is Prince Stefan of Corvaine."
Ben gaped for a moment and then asked:
"And how does this involve me?"
"Corvaine needs a male heir and Prince Stefan is unable to provide one" Karl replied tersely.
"You mean he's impotent?" Ben asked, wondering why he was even having this conversation.
"He does not enjoy relationships with women like a normal man."
Ben wanted to punch Karl.
"The poor sod's gay?" Ben shrugged, then added:
"But loads of gay men have fathered kids."
"Prince Stefan has contracted a disease because of his perversions. He is dying."
Oh, you cold-hearted bastard, thought Ben.
"As ye sow, so shall ye reap" quoted Karl, catching Ben's look.
Ben got to his feet.
"Forget the coffee. I've heard enough of this crap and I'm leaving."
David put his hand on Ben's arm.
"Mr Chiltern – Ben – Prince Stefan was due to marry Princess Sara of Doranis. Nobody but you, myself and Karl know about his illness. If the marriage goes ahead and a child is conceived, it would strengthen the alliance between our two small countries. If the alliance doesn't happen both our country would be prey to stronger, greedier nations who would take advantage of our vulnerability. They would take what they wanted by force… you have heard the term 'collateral damage'?"
Ben had and privately thought it was a euphemism for the term 'legal murder'. But he was wavering a little. Then he faced facts and snapped:
"You seriously expect me to uproot myself and come over to your country, stand in for a Prince, marry a woman I don't know, and perform stud services for her? And, oh, here's the interesting bit."
He imitated a voice with a Holby accent.
"Not seen that Ben Chiltern round here lately… oh, it's okay, there he is on television pretending to be a Prince."
David spoke calmly and reasonably.
"We do not have the luxury of television or the Internet in Corvaine. We have radio, but you would receive voice training to sound like Stefan."
"I would if I were agreeing to this, but seeing as it's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard, I think I'll say goodnight, gentlemen. Close the door after me."
He began to stride out but David laid his hand gently on his arm.
"Ben, please. Think of the innocent civilians who would die. Listen, all you would have to do is to act as Stefan until an heir is conceived, then there could be a discreet funeral-"
"-Whose? Stefan's or Ben Chiltern's? How do I know you won't put a neat little hole in the back of my head once you've done with my services?"
"I swear to you that you would be flown home quietly and you could resume your life again."
"See, that's another thing" Ben argued, "This could take well over a year, assuming the lady conceives. If I'm missing from NHS work for so long it'll be almost impossible to resume my job without retraining. I'm not quite the bleeding heart you seem to think I am."
"After what we have to offer you, you may not even want to consider nursing as a career. Have you heard of Nicolas Lascelles?"
Nobody with any appreciation of musical theatre could fail to know about Nick Lascelles. The vocal coach had worked with some of the finest, and had brought out the vocal talent in the not-so-fine.
"If Prince Stefan were to demand lessons from Nicholas Lascelles, who would be fool enough to refuse him? And when you return to the UK you could have a West End career."
"But a year at least away from my family and friends? I don't know."
Karl eyed him with contempt but answered:
"If you had the sense to be discreet, you would be allowed visits back here. There would be nothing wrong with Prince Stefan visiting the rest of Europe. Now please stop listing the impossibilities, Mr Chiltern, and see sense."
"I'll let you know tomorrow" Ben stated.
David nodded.
"Then tomorrow, come to the Hotel Mercure and ask for us at eight pm. I am David Schaefer and this is Karl Bonner."
Ben shook hands with them and left. He had all but made up his mind to tell them the next day that this charade was over before it begun.
"Ethan, please."
"I've had enough" Ethan snapped, turning away from his brother, "Three months of wearing a sodding spinal brace, painkiller injections and God knows what else, Mrs bloody Beauchamp has decided to inform me that I'll still need surgery! And it can't be here; I have to go to Peterborough for it. Maybe more than once if things don't work out the first time. Then she calmly sat there listing everything that could go wrong! "Opiates can have unpleasant side-effects, Ethan" she said in that snotty little voice of hers."
Ethan banged the wall in rage:
I'll have to donate my own blood units for the operation, there'll be blood and pee tests… I wish I was f***ing dead, Cal!"
"Hey, snap out of that!" Cal wanted to be sympathetic but knew what attitude would work best in this case, "You'll get there, Ethan. You will get there."
Ethan gave his brother a vicious look.
"And meanwhile I've got to look forward to a sodding care worker coming every day to help me wash, help me feed… just like a bloody baby. A stranger pawing me about and making me feel like the most useless bugger on earth."
"No that won't happen" Cal replied gently, "I'll be here for you. Yeah, even for the ugly bits, like taking you for a pee or worse. I'll drive you to the appointments, and I'll bring you back afterwards."
"You'll need indefinite leave-"
"-No I won't" Cal said evenly, "I quit my job today. I'll be looking out for you twenty-four seven, little brother. NOW what's wrong?"
Ethan was sobbing like a child.
He blew his nose on a tissue that had seen better days – Cal hastily binned it and replace it with a pristine one – and said:
"You'll be more or less giving up your own life till I'm cured… IF I'm cured. Why?"
"Because, Nibbles, you're my greedy, whiney, special little brother. And I'm going to make damn sure I'm there for you. Get it?"
Ethan turned his face to Cal and sobbed into his chest. Cal held him.
When he looked back, Cal could remember that evening as the one when things began to get better.
For now, at least, his cynical brain added the afterthought.
Sorry to the Cal and Ethan fans that Lofty had a slightly bigger share of this chapter, but there will be much more to come for the brothers.