NEW WEBSITE FOR THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF OXFORD
His Majesty The King is delighted announce the launch of the Duke and Duchess of Oxford's website.
www. OxfordRoyals .uk
The Duke and Duchess of Oxford are delighted to launch their own website and use the platform to shine a light on their interests, patronages and charities they are supporting. Their Royal Highnesses are very much looking forward to use their website, like their Instagram account, as a place to raise awareness for environmental protection and social issues but also share private moments of their growing family.
Just like on their Instagram page, most publications will be written directly by the Duke and Duchess of Oxford. The published photos were all taken either by the Duke and Duchess of Oxford or the Princess of Wales or other close members of their family. There will be articles by guest editors, who are experts, on the published topic. Their Royal Highnesses wish to offer a variety of different perspectives on the topics that are close to their hearts.
Their Royal Highnesses hope to share the love and help changing the world one step at a time.
Future press releases will be published on the Royal Family Website as well as on The Duke and Duchess of Oxford's Website.
Josephine
"Allow me to lead you...Let me take control." his whisper fills my ear, creating goosebumps all over my skin. Our bodies are so close, that I can feel how his muscles shift underneath his clothes. His grip is firm and his hands are warm. Tingles spread from our touching points: the forehead, my left hand in his and my right hand on his hip. He smells of safety and cosy nights in front of the fireplace. His eyes are a little lighter than the last time we saw each other. It's no longer the deep green that's almost black, but instead it's a little lighter... it's not emerald like my brother Elias' eyes. The pine green has transformed into a sea foam colour. His eyes take my breath away.
The tingling sensations only increase with the time passing by. The longer we dance, the stronger the sensations inside of me become until I start feeling a fever and a little light in my head. The dizziness blurs out the music around us... until all I see and feel is him and those sea foam coloured eyes. I can feel how our bodies dance, how they move to their very own beat that has nothing to do with the actual music. Our bodies are moving but my mind... my mind is somewhere completely else. Somewhere only he and I exist... and nothing else. The fever increases until that burning sensation reaches my heart. I can feel it pulsing and beating in a rhythm like never before. Whatever this is... it scares the hell out of me.
Because it's so wonderful that I don't want it to stop.
Suddenly, my ringing alarm rips me out of my sleep. I roll over in my bed and hit on the nightstand blindly until I've turned off my alarm. Then I open my eyes and stare at my white ceiling.
Why the hell am I dreaming of Oliver?
We just danced last night. It was a good dance, I have to admit that, but nothing more... Still, I've dreamt of him.
It's confusing to say the least.
I get up from my bed and stare at the sunrise that's happening across me. With floor to ceiling windows, there's not a millimetre of this beauty that I miss. It's five thirty in the morning and the sun is awakening the city that I call my hometown. The horizon in front of me is filled with pastel colours that coat London's most known sight seeing spots in beautiful lightning. The London Bridge, the London Eye, St. Paul's Cathedral... Westminster Abbey - they're all beneath me and around me. The River Thames shows off her beauty as it mirrors the stunning lightning.
London is my only love.
I brush through my long chestnut hair that has formed knots over night as I walk into my en-suite bathroom. Even here, the soft pastels don't stop. I love my penthouse for exactly this lightning. Nothing tops this view... this lightning... this feeling. I quickly wash my face, brush my hair and pull my hair into a ballerina bun. It's time for my morning workout before heading to work.
To my new work, two floors lower than where I used to work.
But somehow it doesn't feel wrong at all.
Oliver
Why did she ran away? She felt it. I know she felt it - it couldn't be otherwise. She felt our connection... She felt the magic. We didn't just dance to the music.
We danced to our heartbeat.
I've never done that before. It felt magical. But then she stoped and ran away. She actually ran away from me.
She definitely felt this connection.
A clinking sound fills my ears as the door of the souvenir shop opens welcoming a new wave of Japanese customers with open arms. There must be 30 of them. They're probably looking for more Royal stuff. Everyone is obsessed with the Duke and Duchess of Oxford and their unborn baby. It's ridiculous.
Josephine
I get hit from the right for the sixth time this morning. "Focus!" Wlad hisses at me.
But it's bloody hard to focus when your thoughts are running around a man that you shouldn't care about.
I duck my head as I notice his left hand flying over to my face but then I get hit from another right jab. Shit.
That actually hurt.
My brother-in-law definitely doesn't go easy on me. He takes his job to train me very seriously.
"Okay that's it." Wladimir takes down his hands that are covered with boxing gloves. It's six in the morning, yet the gym he owns in Bayswater is full of heavy lifting men that are groaning and moaning. At first I thought I was in heaven with all these good looking men that were training here but then I found out that Bolton women are off-limits here. And if the boss says you have to stay away from me, you sure as hell do. That's a shame because some men might have what it takes to spend a night with me. "What's going on here? I've never seen you so unfocused. Where's your mind?"
My mind is stuck in yesterday evening. "I'm good." I ensure him.
"No, you're not good. With this kind of behaviour I have to double the men who are watching you. You wouldn't even recognise danger if it's staring straight into your face."
"Wlad, come on! Ralph is enough and you know it. I can take care of myself-" I duck my head at the last minute as Wlad throws another left jab at me.
"This is not the Southpaw I know. What's on your mind?" He asks me again. "Did you had an argument with your Dad?"
"No, I'm good with him. He moved me down two floors-" I stop talking and cover my face as Wlad starts hitting me in a fast pace. I only take my protecting shield down after he's finished.
"No it's not your Dad." Wlad says. "Because you can talk to me and still show your cheetah like reaction. So that means it has to do with the man you danced with yesterday at the homeless shelter."
I stare at him totally stunned. "You had me watched?!" I ask shocked.
"Of course."
"But you were still having dinner with our family when I left!"
"Jo, by now you should know that I've always had you watched. Just because you're so good at defending yourself and you have the most talent when it comes to reading people, doesn't mean I can let you walk alone through the world. So, who is this man that you've met three times now?"
God, he really is watching me. "I thought it was just Ralph."
"He is on rotation with Stefano."
"Your stand-in." I point out. "You have your best guys watching me?"
"You're the only one without protection."
"That's not fair. Nate-"
"Has Char and with her a 10 headed security team most of the time. The twins and Elias are at Le Rosey with my girls. Really, you're the only one left."
I shake my head in disbelief. "You told me it would only ever be Ralph." I hit against his face with my right jab.
He blocks my move with ease. "Jo, you can't blame me for taking care of you."
"And I'm not. I'm just disappointed that you lied to me." I hit him with my left jab but he blocks it again.
"Is that why you're not answering my question?" He asks me back before hitting me with full force.
But I block his movement and stand still like I'm made out of diamond. "Look, I really don't know him at all."
"It didn't look like it."
"You have visuals?"
He raises his left eyebrow at me, "Do you really have to ask?"
"Okay, his name is Oliver and he's from Brazil but that's all I know."
"And that he works at the same homeless shelter as you." Wlad points out. "Do you want me to look into him?"
"You mean do I want to know what you've found out about him? No, I don't. I'd like to get to know him the old fashioned way."
Suddenly my brother-in-law grins, "You like him. I knew it!"
Shit, he's got me. "I don't not like him." I say back. "He's not the kind of guy I usually go for as you already know."
"True."
"And unless he's no danger, which he's not otherwise we wouldn't have been able to meet three times, I really want you to stay out of it. You and your two bodyguards that follow my moves. Please ask them to be discreet."
He nods, "Okay but only if you manage to knock me down by the end of our hour."
I grin at him, "You know I can do that."
"If you're focused you can make me struggle but you haven't been for the last 45 minutes."
After my hour of boxing, I still can't stop thinking about my dream. I meditated and showered, yet my thoughts kept circling around those sea foam coloured eyes. I've been working on autopilot, eating breakfast and drinking my coffee without acknowledging my surroundings. Because all I thought about was Oliver and that dance!
What the fuck is going on with me?!
I finish my make up with a nude lipstick. I've kept it light and classic with a cat-eye eyeliner with a perfect wing on each eye. I look at my reflection in the mirror, seeing a totally different Josephine than three minutes ago. The boxer, the yoga guru, the meditation expert and the coffee junkie is gone as I've put on my war paint.
I walk into my dressing room that has walnut shelves and drawers along with glass cabinets. I quickly pull out a pair of jeans, a black cashmere turtleneck sweater and black Chelsea boots. There's no need to doll up in a fancy business dress. Not when no client will see me. I'm going to sit at my desk the whole day anyway.
I quickly get into my clothes and pull out my hair. I slide into my shoes and take one quick look at the big mirror in my dressing room.
I'm ready to start my new job.
Oliver
I watch how the last Japanese tourist leaves the tiny souvenir shop. They spent the last hour and a half in this sixty square meter shop, looking at everything three times and thinking four times before buying anything. In the end, all of them left with some kind of souvenir of the Royal Family. They're our best sellers.
Nothing beats the Duke and Duchess of Oxford.
I look at the watch and see that it's time for my break. For two hours, I get to close the shop and enjoy my break. I think today I will actually take one of the red double deckers to Greenwich and eat my sandwich in Greenwich park with the dogs running around and the sun shining in my face.
I don't usually do this, but somehow I want to visit Greenwich today. I've read so much online about this charming neighbourhood on the other side of the river Thames. As I've gotten my salary this morning I think I can allow myself to have this luxury. The luxury of riding a bus and eating a sandwich in the sun instead of napping behind the counter as I usually do in the two hour break.
Josephine
"You're working from ten until seven, five days a week." Laura, the head of social media says to me as we exit her office that two floors below my old office. "You will write our Instagram and Facebook posts. Perhaps even a few blogposts. You'll work close with the social media team of the foundation."
I have to work with the foundation anyway? I follow Laura down the grey marbled hallway with pale blue walls and framed black and white photos of their work over the years. One year, there was a social project in Africa where they built a school. In another year they built an orphanage in India. It's crazy how much good my parents have made in the last 35 years. Most of their work will never be known by the world as they often do this in secret. They care about people. Maybe that's why I'm helping out at a homeless shelter and a church that doesn't even share my belief. I guess, I inherited this philanthropy.
The floor is busier than on Saturday evening when I was here last. People are rushing by us, either on their phones or their hands full of paper work. The reception desk is so busy that I don't think the women working there ever get a chance to go to the loo. This is like inside a well oiled machine. I had no idea there was so much work, such an army, standing behind my parents and uncle Luc.
"And that's your desk." Laura, the head of social media says to me. As predicted she points at the only empty desk in the open office at the end of the hallway. The other five desks are occupied by other employees, weirdly all women. They're all working on their MacBooks, so focused that they haven't even looked at me.
But I guess I don't have to introduce myself. It's obvious who my parents are.
"Your first assignment is covering the social project." Laura tells me.
She's got to be kidding me! I have to cover Liam's kindergarten shit?! My mouth can't form any words so I just nod.
"You'll be posting photos with content on Instagram and twitter as well as on our website. Can you take photos? You know how to use the camera right?"
Of course I do. I inherited that passion from my father but unlike my father's work, my photos don't hang around in my home. I like to keep my photos private. They're my secret, my treasure. "Yes, I know how to use a camera."
"Great. Then you can pick it up at the reception desk right now and make your way to Greenwich. We want some photos of the building before we start with the work."
They haven't started with the work yet?! It's been three weeks! "Okay." I smile at her before turning on my heel and walking over to the reception desk. Laura seems to be very nice. I hope she's not a fake snake.
Oliver
I get off the red double decker at the station Cutty Sark, but I ignore the tourist spot and the nearby Starbucks. It's not what I'm here for. I walk through the streets that somehow remind me of Notting Hill, but it's not as colourful. It's so peaceful here. There are a few laughing toddlers as there are many kindergartens around here. Most of the buildings are not as old as the ones in Chelsea or Belgravia, however they have their very own charm here as well.
I stop in front of historic walls of the Royal Museums Greenwich. Going through there is the quickest way into Greenwich Park, my destination.
But something keeps me from entering the museums. Instead I look around the corner of the street.
And see a woman I didn't expect here. The woman is taking photos with a big camera of an old red bricked building complex. No one has clearly lived in the house for decades as it's in a really bad shape. It looks like it could fall apart any moment.
I frown as I scan the woman. I've seen her before but I can't pin point her face to a name. She's dressed in black Chelsea boots, a pair of medium washed skinny jeans, a black turtleneck sweater and an open black coat. It's cold, although spring is almost around the corner, but she looks like a blossoming flower despite the dark colours she's wearing.
It's like she was born to stand out.
She stops taking photos, turns around and that's when it hits me.
It's Josephine!
My heart skips a beat as her sky eyes notice me. She looks so different today, yet she's more beautiful than yesterday. I don't know how she does it but she seems to get more beautiful with each day passing. What is she doing here?
And more importantly, why did she ran away from me yesterday?
Before I can even think, my body is already rushing over to her. "Josephine,"
She stirs at my voice although she watched me walking over to her. "Oliver..." she breathes out before putting the camera strap around her neck. "What a coincidence."
It is a coincidence indeed. I wanted to enjoy my break here but instead I meet her. "Yes... yes it is." I tell her.
Her bright blue eyes notice the sandwich bag in my hand. "Are you here to enjoy your break?"
"Josephine, why did you ran away from me last night?" I ask her back instead.
She stares at me for a moment. Probably stunned that I've asked her that. "I told you, my car was outside and I drive the kind of car that people in those kind of neighbourhoods don't get to see."
"Where's your car now? I don't see a fancy car parked around here."
"I was driven here by my driver."
She has a driver?! "And what are you doing now?"
"I'm actually working."
"Working? You were taken photos of this ugly old building."
"And that's my work. The company I work for is making a social project every year. Sadly, this year I didn't get the chance to lead the project, instead I get to document it. I'm working in the social media department of the firm and my assignment is to cover the development of the social project. This will be turned into a kindergarten."
"Another one? There are five around the corner! Wouldn't it be smarter to turn this into social flats? London desperately needs affordable living quarters."
Her gaze softens for a second before it hardens again. "It's not my job to decide what this building will be turned into."
"But you're allowed to have an opinion."
She nods, "And I share yours."
Well, that's a first. "Good. How about we have our lunch together? I still owe you a cappuccino."
She chuckles the same way as yesterday evening. And just like yesterday my heart skips a beat at the sound. "I've told you, I don't want a cappuccino from you. I can buy it myself."
"There's gotta be something you want."
"There is but it's nothing you can give me." She looks sad as she shrugs. "Anyways, enjoy your lunch."
"I wanted to go into Greenwich Park. Would you like to join me?"
She gulps and I can see how she's debating what to say. "Oliver,"
"It's not a date. We can sit on a bench and you can watch how I eat my sandwich in less than a minute."
She chuckles again, "Alright fine. But I actually could need a cup of coffee."
"Then let me-"
"No, Oliver. I've said it before but I guess I have to repeat myself until you get the message: I can pay for myself. Trust me, I can afford it." She says in a strict voice that does not allow any argument. She's authoritative- another attribute I can add to my list. "So, let's head to the nearest café so I can get my fix."
She's a coffee junkie. I don't know why but that makes me grin. "Alright."
"Alright." She says before we start walking down the road.
She always has to have the last word, too. "You look different today." I point out as I stare at her without any shame. I like her in black. She looks sophisticated, breathtaking even.
"You mean different than yesterday." She says back.
"Yes. You're not wearing heels." She's a little smaller today than yesterday evening when we danced together. But she's still pretty tall.
She looks down at her black leather boots, "I figured I'd be walking a lot today so I went for more comfortable shoes."
We walk around the corner and I can see a bakery shop in one of the old transom windows. I can't believe we're still in Greenwich when it looks like Covent Garden. "There's a bakery."
Josephine looks in front of us "No. That's a chain company. The coffee will be bad. I want something from a local café."
She's picky as well. Or maybe she likes to support the little companies, the local work. "Does that mean you also never get coffee from a Starbucks?"
She wrinkles her perfectly shaped nose, "God no! I'd never buy coffee from there even if it were the last coffee shop on the world! Their stuff is way overpriced and horrible! They claim to care about supporting the locals in Chile and Kenya, where they mainly source heir coffee beans from, however they don't even pay the workers enough for them to be able provide one warm meal for their families! No, I would never support that!"
She's definitely a philanthropist. No doubt. "Okay. Then let's find another café. Where do you usually get your coffee fix?"
"I usually use the coffee machine in the firm that I work at. That's almost as good as the coffee from home. But there's one local café that I'm obsessed with. It's in Battersea and still a real gem in London. It's been a family business for decades and it offers the most delicious Italian pastries that are almost as good as my mother's. The café is called Luigi's. Do you know it?"
I sure as hell do! "Yes, actually I do. I work there on the weekends."
"Really?" She asks me surprised. "I've never seen you there but then again I haven't been at Luigi's for quite a while now. Give Luigi my love the next time you're there." She says with a small smile on her lips. "He has such a kind heart. It's rare to find that nowadays."
I return her smile as I feel my heart skipping a beat. I've never heard her talk about someone this kindly. "I will."
"Good and maybe next time I'm there we're going to meet."
"Is that a date?" I ask her back with a smirk on my lips.
"It's a meet-up in the foreseeable future." She says back instead. "But don't take on any extra shifts just in hope to see me."
I frown, "I'm not that into you, Josephine."
"Yes you are. I can see it in your body language and hear it in your voice. You can't fool me, Oliver."
I don't deny my interest because it would be useless. I am into her. Actually, I find her pretty fascinating. "So I'm an open book to you?"
She shrugs, "Not a fully open book, but I can read people pretty well."
"And what is my body language saying now?" I challenge her.
"That you're deeply impressed by me, which you should be because I am awesome." She says with a grin on her lips. "But if you're smart, you would stay away from me. It's part of the reason why I walked away yesterday. You should keep your distance. Be careful, don't come too close. I gave it to the one before you and I made him choke. I might disappoint you but I've got a phobia. I don't do relationships. I'm not the girlfriend kind of woman. It's better to warn you than to give you any hope."
She's talking in riddles - and I love solving riddles.
"I'm way out of your league, Oliver."
"I'd like to raise to the challenge."
"We're from different worlds."
"It looks like the same world to me."
She shows me a small smile before looking ahead of us again. "There's a local café." She stops at a local café and opens the door before stepping in.
It takes me a moment to follow her. We just had our first honest conversation.
And she sparked my interest like never before.
Josephine
I walk into the little local café that offers pastries, sandwiches and all variations of coffee. There are white tiles on the wall behind the walnut wooden counter. It's quite empty for a Monday noon. It's very cosy here. I like it.
I scan the different pastries and sandwiches in the class cabinets. I should get Oliver at least another sandwich. There's no way a man his size will be full after that tiny sandwich that he brought with him.
"Hello. What can I get you?" The brunette man behind the counter asks me. His brown eyes widen as soon as he recognised me.
"Two large coffees, one vegan sandwich and two slices of that lemon cake." I order with a smile on my lips. There's nowhere I can go without getting recognised. In the States I got recognised because of my parents. Here I get recognised because of my sister that joined the world's most famous family.
The barista nods before typing it into the computer. "It's on the house, Miss Bolton."
"I hope you didn't order that second coffee for me." Oliver's voice fills my ears. "You know my opinion of you buying me things."
I wince as goosebumps cover my skin, "It's on the house so don't worry."
"How did you manage to achieve that?"
Didn't he hear how the barista called me by my last name? "The same reason why you're so into me. I'm hot as hell." I joke before sticking out my tongue.
Oliver's pine green eyes eyeball the barista across me that starts working on my order and I can see how his left hand twitches.
I don't like what I see. I don't like it at all.
Oliver's started to get protective over me. He's getting attached. That's not good.
I'll burn him alive.
"You know what, I'd really like to pay for my order." I tell the brunette man as he finishes putting the sandwich and the two slices of cake into a paper bag.
"Really, don't bother. Just-"
"I said I want to pay." I interrupt him in a firm voice. Sometimes I have to talk in the same voice that my father uses in his company just to get taken serious.
"Okay. 15 pounds please." He says.
"I've got-"
Is he fucking kidding me?! I stare at Oliver with an unmissable look before I hand the barista my black Amex. Seriously, what's wrong with this world?!
I just want to pay what I ordered.
"Thank you. Have a great day!" He says before handing me back my black Amex.
Oliver picks up the two coffees while I grab the paper bag. I hold the door open for Oliver before I follow him outside.
"You're bossy." He points out.
"Only when I have to." I answer as we walk down the road that leads directly to Greenwich Park. "Let's find an empty bench to have our break."
Oliver
We sit down on a bench under an oak tree. It's still a bit cold but the sun is shining down on us. Dogs are running around along with children. Babies get pushed in their strollers and mothers are chatting with each other as they watch their children play on the playground nearby.
It's so beautiful here!
Josephine puts down her camera on the bench before picking up one cup of coffee. She hands it to me without saying a word.
I stare at her, "I didn't ask for this."
"It's black. I hope you don't mind." She says before getting out a sandwich from the paper bag. She places that on my lap. "Vegan with avocado and hummus."
"I didn't ask for that either." I hiss at her. "You said you wanted a coffee. I thought this was the whole reason why we went into the café in the first place. Not for you to buy me coffee and a sandwich."
"I also bought you lemon cake. I'm having one slice with my coffee."
Is she insane?! "Josephine, you know how I feel about you buying-"
"I didn't buy it for you. I just bought too much for myself. I can't eat all of it."
"Josephine,"
"Fine, you've got me. See it as a gift then."
"It's the same."
"It's not and now eat and drink otherwise your coffee will be cold and the sandwich will go bad." She says in that firm voice which makes my cock harden and my pulse spike. She narrows her sky blue eyes at me in a way that allows no argument.
So I pick up the sandwich, unwrap it and bite into it. It's a weird sensation in my mouth of different textures before an explosion of different tastes happen in my mouth.
"You like it." She says with a smirk on her lips.
I like that smirk even more. "I do. It's good."
"I'm glad you like it." She says before taking a sip of her coffee.
"Thank you."
She gives me a look with appreciation, "Of course. But don't thank me when it accidentally happens again."
"It won't happen again." I tell her.
She only shrugs. "Never say never."
"How's the coffee?"
"It'll do." She shrugs again.
I take a sip of my coffee. "It's not bad."
"I didn't say it was bad."
"You didn't say it was good either."
"That doesn't automatically mean it's bad." She points out the obvious. She's speaking in as many layers as she is made of. With her I always have to read between the lines and even then this it may not be correct.
"How did the photos turn out?"
She places the cup on the bench and picks up the camera. She presses some buttons until the little display of the heavy Canon camera fills with a photo of the old red bricked house. "See it yourself." She hands me the camera and takes another sip of her coffee. Weirdly, she doesn't really care about me holding this expensive camera. She would rather watch the dogs running around or the screaming children on the playground nearby.
But for me it's a real treat to hold something like this in my hands. I scroll through the photos slowly, wanting to see every detail of each photo that she took. To my surprise she made the ugly old building look beautiful and historic, despite looking like it might fall apart any second. The big tear that went through almost half of the building has been captured beautifully by Josephine. Even the broken windows look suddenly good.
She's a really talented photographer.
And then I notice the photos she took before the shaky old building - and I'm blown away by what I see. She took photos of a man playing with his dog in Greenwich park, a homeless man sitting underneath a tree with a hot cup of tea in his hands that's smiling... there's a photo of a blossoming snowdrop and a photo of two grinning nuns sitting on a bench quite similar to ours.
"You're a really good photographer." I breathe out as I look up from the display and at her.
She frowns at my words as if I said something insulting before her sky blue eyes look at the camera in my hands. As soon as she's noticed the photo of the nuns, she has the camera already ripped out of my hands. "You weren't supposed to see that."
"But I did and I really liked what I saw."
She puts out the camera and looks up at me, "You did?"
I sure as hell did! "Yes, your images are beautiful."
I can see her blush from my words and I must admit that pink colour on her cheeks is lovely. "Thank you."
"How long have you been taking these kind of photos?"
"For as long as I know. I started when I was still at Le Rosey..."
Le What?!
She chuckles because of the confused look on my face. "It's a boarding school in Switzerland. I took a photography class there and that's where I discovered my passion I guess. I'm only doing it as a hobby but I like photographing the many different people here in London. I've got that from my Dad. He and his Nikon..." she grins as she shakes her head, "Every wall in my childhood home is plastered with his stunning photography."
I can't even imagine how her home would look like but just hearing her describe the walls of her home that are full of framed photos that hold special memories... she looks so carefree and happy. I like that look on her face. I like it a lot.
Suddenly she rises from the bench, "My driver is here." She notifies me.
I look around but don't see anyone that looks like a driver - not that I know what someone with that kind of job would look like.
"Oliver, I meant what I said. Stay away from me. Keep your distance and don't come too close. I am not the kind of woman for you. I'll burn you alive." She says in a serious voice.
"You enjoyed our dance."
"I did." She admits to my surprise. "A little too much. That's why I've agreed to go to the park with you but it was a bad idea."
"Josephine,"
"Enjoy your lunch. I'll see you in two weeks at the homeless shelter." With that she turns on her heel and walks away from me.
I rise from the bench to walk after her but my feet are glued to the floor and my tongue is knotted in my mouth. All I can do is watch this beautiful woman walking away from me. The wind is blowing through her chestnut waves. I watch how her hips swing and her torso stabilises her whole body until she turns the corner and is gone.
As I sit down on the bench again, I notice the lemon cake she left me with.
This woman is harder to crack than a macadamia nut.
Josephine
I stare out of the window as we drive down the Tower Bridge. The Tower of London comes into my view but my mind is somewhere totally different. I don't know why I showed Oliver my photos. Why did I even hand him the camera? Why did I do this? How the hell did he convince me - me Josephine Bolton - to show him my work?
I let out a growl and drag my hands down my face.
What is this man doing to me?!
"Ralph?"
The deep brown eyes of my driver meet me in the review mirror, "Yes, Miss Bolton?"
"Next time you report to my brother-in-law could you please paint me in a better lightning? Say when you report me having a good time in Greenwich park with Oliver, could you also mention that I actually worked?"
"Miss Bolton, I can assure you I am only doing my job. I only report what I see not what I hear."
And he has heard a lot over the last years. "I know... I know." I whisper. That man is only providing for his family. I shouldn't blame him. I'm not even mad at him.
"Did you take some good photos?"
"Yes. I think it'll work out great with the unwritten content that I've got in my mind."
"What will be building be turned into?"
"A kindergarten."
"That's lovely!"
"It is... it is."
Oliver
I step into the St James' Roman Catholic Church in Marylebone on my way home from work at the pub. It's seven in the morning and I'm dog tired but I won't be able to sleep without dreaming of her again. It's like I have insomnia. I've been dreaming wide awake. Every night and day about her since we met. I can't get her out my head. I can't seem to figure out how Josephine is doing this to me. She's got me completely under her spell.
It's scary and wonderful at the same time.
I walk down the aisle of this impressive neo-gothic church. The huge stained windows are breathtaking. The church is of early Gothic design. Built entirely of stone it has a purity of line that confers a true sense of majesty, especially in its height, upon the whole building. The arches of the nave are supported by pillars enriched with marble colonettes. As the groining is artistically so perfect nowhere does the weight of stone produce a feeling of oppressiveness. The church entrance in George Street is a copy of the main entrance to Lichfield Cathedral while throughout the church are many details taken from the best type of the English 13th century Gothic style as exemplified, for instance, at Salisbury Cathedral and in parts of Westminster Abbey where the Duke and Duchess of Oxford wedded in August. The Gothic chancel is one of the most artistic in London with a high arch rising to the groined roof of the nave, (yet in contrast to the nave which is manifestly English Gothic) and is at once reminiscent of the finest French cathedrals. The apse is heptagonal and has in its lower half seven pointed arches filled with opus sectile. The centre panel portrays the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Our Lady and the Apostles while the other six contain symbols of sacrificial and sacramental aspects of the Holy Eucharist, taken from the Old Testament. High on the wall above the choir stalls can be seen two built-in gilt crowns. It was beneath these that places were always given to King Alfonso and Queen Ena of Spain when they attended the church. In the canopied niches at the ends are gilt bronze statues, on one side St James, on the other St Anne. Above is a gilt hexagonal canopy and suspended behind this is a corona of rock crystals which is lowered over the monstrance during Benediction and Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. The sanctuary floor is golden mosaic.
These high pillars remind me of the church I also went to with my Mum and brothers. They're at the other end of the world, but here within these holy walls it feels like they're with me. I miss my family so much that I've considered many times to get back to Rio - somehow. People from all over the world seek for asylum on this island and while I love London and Great Britain, I miss my family. We don't have much at home but we laughed and smiled still. I want to talk to them for longer than the five minutes every month. I miss the arms of my mother around me. I miss my brothers laughter.
I miss them so much that my heart starts bleeding.
The church is totally empty except for me. Burning candles in front of the alter flicker.
I sit down on one of the many wooden benches and fold my hands. I need to find strength from within. I will bring them to London - I just don't know how or when.
But I will. I am stronger than this.
I just don't know how to get Josephine out of my system and I'm afraid I don't even want to. She's too beautiful to ignore. She's too smart to not be heard. Her aura is too hard to ignore. I'm getting pulled towards her again and again... I can't ignore these obvious signs coming from above.
God wouldn't interrupt my mission just for fun. He's pointing me towards Josephine again and again, showing me this magnificent woman that has swept me off my feet.
I didn't expect to meet a woman here in London. Not that I'm not interest in having fun, but no woman would want to be with an illegal immigrant who's sending all of his money to his family in Rio. I literally don't have a penny in my pocket.
I can't even pay for a date at the cinema.
How am I suppose to impressive a woman like Josephine? She's surely used to getting everything she always wanted. She's used to go out to fancy restaurants and frequent visits to the cinema. I've never been to a cinema. I don't even own a television.
I have nothing that can make this woman happy.
And yet God keeps pushing me towards her. He keeps making sure we'd meet again.
I just hope Josephine doesn't think I'm stalking her.
Suddenly one of the many side doors open and a group of children rushes in. They're in kindergarten age and cause me to smile. My little brother Jonathan has just started school this year. God, I miss this little bundle of joy so much.
A woman with a long chestnut ponytail walks through the door last. She's dressed in black jeans and a simple black and white striped top with sneakers. She places a few colourful children's books on one of the chairs next to the black side door. As her gaze lifts, the sky blue eyes stop at me.
It's Josephine.
Seriously?! He's making us meet again?!
I rise from the bench and walk towards her.
"You shouldn't be here." She tells me surprised. She's not wearing a dollop of makeup and to me she has never looked more beautiful.
"This is a house of God. It's always open for everyone."
"But not from six until eight on a Tuesday." She says back. "How did you get in?"
"The door was open."
"Someone must've forgotten to lock it then."
"You've been here since six?" I ask her surprised. I didn't know she believed in God and was committed to him so strongly.
"No, since five thirty. I helped at their soup kitchen before reading to the children of their kindergarten. We wanted to light some candles."
She has the kindest heart I've ever seen. "You're catholic?"
"No. I'm English-Protestant but as you've said this is a house of God that's open to every one. I don't believe in just helping people who share the same belief. I help everywhere I can."
I can see that. "I hope you don't think I'm stalking you." I breathe out. I probably smell of the beer that I've served the whole night. That's not very attractive.
"In a church? No, you wouldn't do that. You're catholic, I assume."
"Yes."
"As most people in Brazil are." She says with a nod. "Actually, you could help me out if you don't mind. Twelve kids require a lot of attention."
"Of course." I say without thinking. "Wait, do I smell of beer?"
"Beer? No. Why would you?"
"I was just on my way home when I stopped by at this church."
"I see. You went out partying all night? You don't look wasted. You have to tell me your secret later." She says with a smirk on her wonderful lips.
"No, actually I work in a pub in Covent Garden. I served the whole night."
"Oh... You must be tired then. I can handle the kids alone. Go home and get some sleep."
My other job starts in three hours so I really should head home - but I'd rather spend my time with her.
And twelve kids in kindergarten age. Is that crazy?
"No, I'm good."
"Are you sure? You don't need to impress me in any way." She tells me in a casual tone that goes right to my bones.
"Yes. I can help you out with them for half an hour."
"I just need you to help me light the candles so they don't burn themselves."
I nod, "I can do that, too."
"Good." She says with a smile on her lips.
The smile makes my heart skip a beat. She really does look beautiful this morning. I follow her to the group of kids that sit on the benches, eagerly waiting for light some candles. Josephine gets out a box of candles from underneath the brass construction on which the burning candles are standing on.
"Okay guys. This is Oliver. He's going to help us with lighting the candles. One candle at a time. Please line up." She tells them and the kids form two lines. One in front of her and one in front of me. I've never seen so well behaved kids.
Josephine hands me the box and I grab six candles at once with one hand.
"I'm going to show you how it's done and then Oliver and me will help you." She tells them. She gets a candle out of the box and lights it using one of the lot candles that's sitting on the construction before putting the end of the candle underneath the flame. Then she places it on one of the many free spots. It sticks without falling off. "See? Really easy."
"Can we make a wish when we light the candle?" One blonde boy asks her.
Josephine smiles, "You can make a wish or think of someone you really love."
"Like Mummy and Daddy?" A brunette girl asks.
Josephine nods, "Yes. Or your friends. Or God. Anyone." She looks at me at the last word and I suddenly get the feeling that she lit this candle for me.
The way she looks at me makes the world stop spinning for a moment.
Josephine
I hold the door open to the kindergarten and the little kids rush inside, right between Oliver and me. "Thank you for helping me." I tell him in gratitude.
"Thanks Jo!" I can hear Wolfram saying to me. He's one of the three nursery school teachers here.
"No problem. Give me a ring when someone calls in sick again, alright?"
He nods, "Will do."
I shut the door close and look at Oliver. He stayed with me for longer than he should. His pine green eyes look tired. "You should catch up on sleep." I tell him.
"I'm good."
He doesn't look like it. "Don't lie in a place like this." I hiss at him. "Look, I need to change but my driver can surely drive you home." I offer although I think he might fall asleep in my car.
But to my surprise he shakes his head. "No, I don't live to far away from here. I'm going to walk."
He might fall asleep on his way home. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Have a great day at work. I'm sure we'll meet again." He promises me before turning on his heel and walking out of the building.
Oliver
My three kilometre walk home from Marylebone to Notting Hill gives me enough time to dream of Josephine a bit more. I have no idea how my legs are even moving at this stage but my body is working on autopilot anyway. I've walked past the church in Marylebone so many times on my way from the pub in Covent Garden to Notting Hill, but I rarely went inside as I prefer the church in Notting Hill. But today, this morning, something pulled me into the St. James' Roman Catholic Church - and that something was Josephine.
I didn't expect to meet her there at all. I walked into the church because of my heart ache and my homesickness but I walked out with a totally different feeling - a longing for Josephine like never before.
It's like my heart is beating and bleeding for her only.
Josephine
It's day two after starting my new job at Bolton's Enterprises and I'm already sitting at the bar of the Ritz hotel. I thought my concentration yesterday was bad after our meeting in Greenwich, but really that was nothing compared to the surprise this morning. He literally came out of nowhere and appeared in the St. James' church. He wasn't even supposed to be there! The front door should have been locked! Locked!
Yet, there he was, sitting on a bench and praying to God. It was so unusual that I thought he was unreal for a moment.
I finish my Martini with one gulp. After today I just have to get my head clear again.
"Another one?" Matthew, the bartender asks me.
I nod, "Yes."
The blonde bartender nods before mixing me another Martini with two green olives. Olives... they almost sounds like Oliver.
Fuck, that man has wiggled his way into my brain and is now stuck there like some kind of tumour!
I chuckle at my own thoughts - tumour, I really do have too many doctors in my family.
"Everything alright, Jo?" Matthew asks me.
I nod again as he places the Martini in front of me.
"Good because hot guy is coming up to your left." Matthew says with a smirk.
Just what I need. I need a distraction, someone to get Oliver out of my mind - if only for a few hours. Because since two days, since that steamy salsa in the soup kitchen, my brain couldn't stop thinking of him. I seen him everywhere, in my dreams, in Greenwich, in a church this morning - it's ridiculous.
It's like I have been infected by Virus Oliver!
A tall black haired man sits down next to me. He has pretty light green eyes and a three day beard. He's dressed in an all black outfit with a black Oxford shirt, black jeans and shoes. It's obvious he stays in shape and has an ego the size of Mountain Everest, otherwise he wouldn't have the courage to come up to me. He looks good. Hot even. "Good evening."
But he looks nothing like Oliver.
Damn, I don't feel an ounce of attraction at those two words. My legs don't get tingly, my heart doesn't start beating faster, my skin won't cover in goosebumps - nothing.
He could be wearing a dust man's uniform and I'd be just as attracted to him.
Fuck!
"Can I get you a drink?" He asks me. Even his voice in my ears doesn't push any of my buttons.
"No, I'm good. Thanks." I brush him off with a smile on my lips.
But to my surprise the man with the light green eyes, doesn't move. "We could have a glass of champagne in my suite."
"I'm not interested in another drink." I tell him.
He nods and rises from the barstool, "I see. Enjoy your evening, Miss Bolton." With that he walks away from me.
Of course he knew who I was. Everyone in this whole world knows who I am thanks to Rory and my parents.
But somehow I feel like a nobody when I'm with Oliver.
And I like that. I like that a little too much.
I finish my Martini in one go before walking out of the bar at the Ritz Hotel. There's no man there that I want.
I want the one in Notting Hill.
Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!
I'm so grateful for the reviews I've gotten for this story so far.
What do you think is going to be Jo's move?
Where will they meet again? In the soup kitchen? In a church? Or somewhere completely different?
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In gratitude,
Nicole