Surprises in Kensington, and at Vogue.
As Sam looked forward to his new role, on the other side of the Atlantic Jeff had finally completed his new drawing intended for Her Majesty the Queen. He was settled on the name of the piece too, unless the intended recipient wished to change it. He could think of no better or more appropriate name for it than The Young Couple, as that was what it portrayed; two people that had just entered their twenties, who had survived the privations of war and could now try and look forward to brighter days ahead. He had shown the final drawing to Nick the night before, after they had tucked Wes into his bed; when he had removed the sheet he had placed over it, his husband had stood there in complete silence. He had to admit that as his husband's silence carried on, he grew more and more tense, worried that Nick's fresh eyes had picked up on something that looked wrong, and was now worrying how to break that news to him.
Nick spoke as he saw the worry grow on his husband's face. "Don't be stressed, Jeffie; this has left me speechless for all the right reasons. It is the second Judging Angel. It is like a photograph, with every little detail… Their eyes draw you in, and like Wes' in your masterpiece, they seem to be watching you… Now, there, in the background… Is that a photograph of her with her father, mother and sister in her younger days?"
"Yes, it is," replied a much happier Jeff. "I couldn't find any details anywhere online about the room in which the photo was taken, so I confess that I used a little bit of poetic licence. In the other photograph are her grandparents. The old photo frames are based on real ones that I saw when Sebastian and I were at the palace for the young artists event."
"Well, I think that you have done yourself proud, my love. It is a piece that has been done with the greatest of respect, to honour them as a couple. I think that she will love it."
"I hope so too, but now the big question is - how do I get it to her? I really didn't consider that when I started the project. She is back at her official duties now I believe, but there are still no public appearances scheduled for herself, or even her family that I could go along to with it… It might be finished, but I think that my problems are only just beginning…"
Nick considered his husband's plight as he headed to the office the following day. In a way it was so typical of Jeff to be a little impetuous, to have started on something like this without considering how it was going to end up with his intended recipient. The need he felt to do something for the Queen had come straight from his heart with the best of intentions, and Nick was sure she would cherish the work, but it wasn't as if Jeff could just parcel it up and take it to the Post Office to be sent to her via the Royal Mail. Nor could he just show up with it at the gates of Buckingham Palace, or more likely, Windsor Castle. The Queen was seeing no-one; not even her friends the Obamas had been able to speak to her after the funeral, according to Trent.
The only feasible way that Nick could see of getting it to her was via the Duchess of Cambridge, who had formed a friendship of a kind with Jeff. They still couldn't just show up at Kensington Palace with it either; she was not making any public appearances, as per protocol, and as far as they knew, she wasn't even going out for the occasional lunch with friends. All they could do, Nick supposed, was be patient, and after the 30 official days of mourning were past, try and find some way to get the drawing delivered to Her Majesty then…
Nick walked into the office building that morning just as the mail was being delivered to the concierge on the ground floor. He paused at the desk, and offered to take up the mail to the UN offices, which the concierge was only too pleased to allow him to do, as it saved him a jaunt. As he headed upstairs in the lift, he glanced at the small pile in his hands, and his heart stopped; there on the top of the pile was one with a royal crest upon it, which he recognised as being the one that belonged to the Duke of Cambridge. As he entered the office, he realised that he was the first one there that morning; as the letter was addressed to the team that he worked with, there was no issue with him opening that letter…
Sure enough, it was from the Duke, or rather the young couple's secretary, officially cancelling his attendance at a UN organised conference next week, due to 'family circumstances'. As he glanced at the top of the letter, he saw that there was a contact number for the private secretary in question written on it. Nick considered his next move; it was wrong, but it was an opportunity to lessen his husband's stress levels. He placed the opened letter on the PA's desk, knowing that it would need to be there to update the official diary. He checked his watch, and knew that it was now or never; it was the ideal time to call, in the hope that it would be answered and he would not get himself into trouble…
Jeff had taken little Wes to kindergarten as usual that morning, and as they walked, his son had tried his best to cheer his papa up. He could tell that he was a little down in the mouth, and usually he could make him grin with his words, but today all he could raise was a little smile. Jeff did not linger at the school gate that morning either, politely greeting Miss Frobisher, then heading off at once, claiming that he had a pressing appointment. As he vanished, Wes said quietly, "He doesn't have one." As Miss Frobisher looked at him, he added, "Daddy calls these kind of things Papa's blue days…"
For her part, his teacher sighed, and said, "We all get those from time to time as we get older…" She could recall days of her own when she felt nothing but despair, but she still soldiered on…
Jeff headed towards home via the farmer's market, picking up the usual items from the various stalls, along with a quantity of Pink Lady apples that Nick wanted for making a pie tomorrow. Back home, he tidied up around the house, then at 11am he made himself a pot of tea. He was just about to pour himself a cup, using it as an excuse to have a slice of cake too, when the doorbell rang upstairs. He cursed, having just got settled, but headed up to answer it in the hope whoever it was would not detain him. When he opened the door, it was to the last person he ever expected to find there….
He stood aside and allowed her to enter, not saying a word until she was in the hallway and he had closed the front door. "Your Highness, this is a most unexpected surprise. I did not ever expect to see you here in my house, particularly seeing as we are still in the official mourning period for the Duke… Wait a minute, did I ever actually tell you our address?"
"No, but I was informed of it in the note that was left for me by our private secretary this morning."
"Oh, okay," said Jeff, still curious, but suddenly mindful of his manners. "Let me take your coat, ma'am, that is assuming that you are staying for any length of time. If you are, I just made a pot of tea, and was just about to have a piece of the cake that Nick baked last night."
"I would be delighted to have a cup of tea with you, and of course, the chance to sample some of your husband's legendary cake cannot be passed up," the Duchess replied.
She took off her coat and handed it to Jeff, who was aware that it would in all likelihood be a designer label, and therefore handled it with the reverence and care that it deserved. He then took her down the stairs to the kitchen, sitting her at the table before he hurried to fetch a second cup. That done, he opened the cake tin. "It is a Red Velvet cake; one of Wes' favourites, much as it was for his namesake too." He cut two slices, and placed each one on a plate, before hurtling to the drawer for two small forks.
She could only smile at the way that he was behaving, knowing full well that had she not been there, then the slice he cut himself would have been larger, and would have been eaten with his fingers. She let him pour the tea, then took a piece of the cake and savoured it. "All the things that I have been told are true; this cake is magnificent. Your husband might well have missed his calling by going into the world of law and diplomacy. However, had he not done so, I would not be here now. William was due to attend a UN conference in Geneva next week, organised by the London office. Of course, he now cannot, and he had our secretary send a formal note of apology yesterday; it was sent on the headed paper with the secretary's telephone number on it. I can only assume that your husband opened it, and took a chance. He left a very cryptic message with the secretary, which piqued my interest, and so I decided that I should come and see you. I believe from it that you have a gift for Her Majesty?"
Jeff nodded, cursing Nick in his head just a little for not having told him what he had done; then again, maybe he did not think things would have moved so swiftly. As if she was psychic, the Duchess continued, "Now don't go blaming him for my sudden and unannounced arrival. I should have sent a message to let you know I was coming, but there are some days when I like to act as if I am Catherine Middleton, and not the Duchess of Cambridge…"
"I am sure that such urges are very tempting at times," replied Jeff sagely. "I do have a gift, and it is currently upstairs. Finish your tea and I will take you up and show it to you to see if you think she would approve of it."
"Ah, so no clues yet as to what exactly it is?"
"None whatsoever, although given where my talents lie, it should not be too hard to work out what it might be…" That made the Duchess laugh for a moment, and then she caught herself and stopped. "Don't worry, I will not tell anyone that you laughed. Sometimes we just need to, regardless of how sad the circumstances are. I don't think that he would mind all that much anyway."
"No, my grandfather-in-law did like a good joke," she replied with a little smile. "It hasn't been easy for any of us, to be honest. Her Majesty of course knew much more than the rest of us, and knew that he had weeks to live well before anyone. She even confided as much to your President when he came for his state visit. She is currently in mourning, but I want you to tell your Mr Nixon that the words he wrote for the President touched her heart, and that she will respond to him personally in the fullness of time."
"I will pass on your words, ma'am. Trent will be gratified to know that. He formed the impression during the visit that she is a formidable lady…"
"She certainly is," replied the Duchess as she finished her tea. "Right, so the time for stalling is over; it is time that you showed me the gift…" Jeff nodded, and with his fingers crossed for luck, he lead the way up to the room that he was using as his studio. He was glad that he had placed the sheet back over it the previous night after Nick had seen it, as it made the reveal all the more dramatic. Telling the Duchess to stand in the spot that his husband had been in the night before, he went over and removed the sheet again…
There was silence again, but this time it ended with a sob. Jeff watched in a mix of fascination and horror as the Duchess began to cry, and his heart ached for a moment. Were they tears of happiness, or was what he had done completely out of line and a cause of upset? In the end, he began, "Your highness, if I have caused offence…"
"No, certainly not… My tears are because this has to be one of the most beautiful gestures that you could possibly have made to her. She has a black and white photograph of this scene in her sitting room at Windsor Castle; she always states that it is her favourite picture, as it captured the happiest moment of her life. It was the day that it all began officially for her and the Duke. She was no longer a girl, but a woman in her own right. She has always wanted a colour copy of the picture, but to no avail. Someone made an attempt a few years ago to colourise the negative, but it looked so awful she could not bear it. But this… they look alive, and is that… is that her family group photograph from the late 1930s in the background? Let me tell you this; Her Majesty will adore this…"
"I do hope so. I made sure that I captured every possible detail, even to going down to the V & A and checking out the dress designer's records; they have a sample of the material there. I wanted it all to be accurate."
"I doubt that many artists would go to such efforts; you really are a remarkable young man…"
The Duchess then stepped forward and pulled a shocked Jeff into a hug; it was not a long one, but he knew that it came from the heart. She pulled away, and then returned to studying his new work, much closer to it now. "It really is just like The Judging Angel; the eyes are alive, and you can almost feel them follow you as you move around, so vividly are they executed. They look exactly like the eyes that I recall them having when I first met them, but less tired from years of life. So I would like to take a photo of your drawing now, if you have no objections, and send it to William, for his eyes only."
"That will be no problem at all, ma'am; whatever you need to do," replied Jeff, and he moved to the side to let her get the perfect shot with her phone, then watched as she quickly typed up a message and hit send.
"I asked my husband if he thought that this would be something that his grandmother would approve of…" - she paused as her phone pinged with an incoming message, which she quickly read - "and his reply is 'Good Lord, yes! Has that been drawn by the person I am thinking of?' I will just confirm that…" Jeff smiled in the knowledge that he now had a second approving voice, and Kate smiled at him as she sent her reply, and then read the immediate response. "I am to tell you that you are a genius, that Her Majesty will be overwhelmed, and that if you were a British citizen, then you would probably be made Sir Jeff Sterling-Duval in her birthday honours list. It wouldn't surprise me at all if you got an honorary title, like Angelina Jolie, or Bob Geldof…." She stopped and laughed again at the look on Jeff's face at the very idea of that honour. "Of course, I don't know if that would make your husband Sir Nick as well. I suppose that for the sake of equality, given that the wife of a Sir becomes Lady, then he should become Sir too."
"Nick would be absolutely mortified at that!" said Jeff bluntly.
The Duchess smiled, and said "Given that it was his interference that got me here, it would be his own fault. Right, I already have your contact number - I will speak to someone about getting this picked up and transported to Windsor so that Her Majesty can view it. This will be the most important picture to enter the Royal Collection, in my opinion, for around half a century. A portrait done in simple coloured pencil rather than the usual oils. There is one thing that you can be certain of; there will always be a Sterling-Duval in the Royal Collection now; this drawing will never be parted with."
When Nick arrived home from work that night it was to discover the whole house wreathed with the smell of a roasting chicken; this was a bit of a surprise, as he had been expecting Jeff to be serving up one of the casseroles that he had made at the weekend and placed in the freezer. He hung up his coat and headed down into the kitchen to discover his son setting the table, and his husband in the process of taking a perfectly roasted bird out of the oven. "That looks and smells delicious, my love," said Nick, heading over to kiss Jeff warmly.
"Wes and I walked home from the kindergarten through the Farmer's Market, and the stalls were in the process of closing up. We ended up buying some cheese that had been cut from a block and the customer had then changed their mind; it was reduced because it would not keep well as a result. This chicken was also half price, as it had to be sold today - and before you ask, I smelt it and checked its colour first, and it was all okay. You have trained me well in how to avoid food poisoning. Anyway, there are also roast potatoes, green beans and broccoli, and a proper gravy."
"Does it never shock you that a decade ago the two of us could barely make a batch of cookies without setting the kitchen on fire, and now…" began Nick.
"We realised that we couldn't just live on takeout, so we had to learn," replied Jeff.
"I had to make sure that the love of my life wouldn't starve; it's what husbands do."
"Yes… That and make phone calls to private secretaries. She came here this morning just after 11am. She told me that she loved your red velvet cake - oh, and she thinks that I could get an honorary knighthood."
"What!" exclaimed Nick. "She came herself? I thought when I called that they would send some sort of official, not that a member of the family would come themselves."
"She obviously realised how important it was for you to break all known protocols. She loved my drawing, and when she sent a photo of it to William, he loved it to. All being well, they will be sending someone tomorrow to take it to Windsor for the Queen. Anyway, enough chat; go and get washed up, because I will be dishing up in a moment, and I don't want it to spoil waiting for you to join us, my love."
"Yes, chef!" said Nick with a grin, as he recalled how many times he had said his husband's exact words to him to get him to come to the table…
As he was expecting, Jeff received a phone call the following morning from the current Surveyor of the Queen's Pictures; they would arrive at 10am, if convenient, with a van and two members of staff. They alone would inspect the drawing, before he and Jeff wrapped it up securely. A frame had been found, based on the dimensions that he had given the Duchess the day before, and it would be fitted at the castle. Jeff agreed, and they appeared bang on schedule, saying little as he escorted them up the stairs. They stopped in the doorway for their first look, and nodded. "Yes, it is perfect. Flawless. Now you have taken images of your own for your personal records?" Jeff nodded, recalling all the photos that Nick had made him take of it the night before. It had seemed silly at the time, but now he realised that he might never see the drawing in person again. That was what he had intended though, so he happily helped to wrap up his work, so that it could be sent on its way to the new owner…
That morning in New York, the rumour mill had begun to commence on Broadway. Although all the cast and crew of the show had been sworn to the greatest secrecy, the news that both Cooper and Sam were to leave The Producers in a matter of weeks was out. It was annoying; the first indication that they had was a series of calls being made to the box office, asking the same question; what was the last day that they could guarantee seeing the original cast. Of course, there was no proof that anyone in the cast had broken the code of silence and talked, nor that one of the staff had been the one to break ranks. All the theatre could do was bring forward the announcement that they had planned anyway, officially confirming the cast change…
When it came, it made no mention of where they were heading to, just that they had both decided that it was time to pursue new acting opportunities. This was down to the fact that the official scoop would be going to one person; Isabelle. She had seized on her connections to convince her employer that there would be a place for an official Broadway column in both the magazine, and online. What excited her most about the news was the fact that Sam was heading into the world of television. She knew that he had the personality to succeed in the sitcom world, and the premise of the show was a good one, at least on the coasts. In might not do so well elsewhere, especially in the Bible Belt states, but the numbers would still be good. She could also help him out by featuring him in the interview that she was already book to do with Rachel about her new show…
She was just about to place the call to Sam to ask him to come in and see her when there was a knock on her office door; she looked up and saw Gideon standing there. He had worked out so well as her assistant, every bit as good as Kurt; his personal demeanour also improved daily, and she was sure it had something to do with the fact that a certain former Warbler seemed to spend nearly every weekend in New York nowadays. However, at this precise moment he looked a little nervous… "Sorry to disturb you, but Ms Wintour just called, and she would like to see you in the boardroom right now."
"Right now?" said Isabelle.
"Those were her exact words; from the way that she said it, I would hurry there as well…"
Half an hour later, Isabelle returned to her office and once more took her chair. She had said nothing as she walked past Gideon, and he followed her in, concern on his face. "Are you okay?" he said. "Have we done something wrong?"
"We are okay here. The owners are very happy with the performance of the online version of the magazine in particular. They were there with her, or at least their representatives… Okay, so this can go no further, but Anna is taking her first steps towards retiring from her job as editor. As was predicted, she has decided on her own replacement, and the owners have agreed with her. To my shock, that replacement is me. At first, Ms Wintour and I will be sharing her position. I will shadow her every day for the six months before she actually leaves her position sometime next year. Even though everyone, even the Queen, was telling me that she had me lined up for her job, the fact that all of that talk is actually true is still such a shock. I mean, a girl from a small town in Ohio ending up as the Editor in Chief of the most influential fashion magazine in the world…"
"No-one deserves it most in my opinion," Gideon responded. "Every day that I have spent with you I have learnt so much. I have said this before, but being lucky enough to be chosen as your intern has altered my entire life. Of course, the fact that I will now be able to tell everyone on my CV that I worked for the current editor of Vogue when I leave school will be a massive help to my career prospects…"
Isabelle laughed out loud and he smiled, sitting down as she motioned him to. "Anyway, that is your news, but I do have some of my own too; Mitch and I have both decided that it is time that we made it official that we are together. Truth is that I simply cannot imagine not being with him now. He is so kind, so loving, and best of all, he treats me as an equal in all things, not as a kid. The age difference between us will be the biggest issue for my family. All of Mitch's friends have accepted the fact that the two of us are together without so much as batting an eyelid; my own friends and family might not find it so simple. I mean, they all know that I am seeing someone, but they are probably imagining someone more my own age…"
"Parents always do expect that, but I believe that we do not choose who we fall in love with," said Isabelle wisely. "I think that if you are to have a future as a couple, then you are doing the right thing in telling people sooner rather than later. It is better that they find out from your lips now that you are together than finding out by accident when you are in Boston together next year."
"That is precisely what we thought. To that end, we will be heading back to my home town in Massachusetts next weekend. Mitch will be booked into a hotel in the next town over for the night, just in case things go really bad. I hope that they don't, because if they do, then I will be forced to make the hardest choice of my life, an whatever I choose, I will end up being hurt…"
Isabelle sighed, knowing that every word that he was saying was true; if his parents did not approve of his relationship with a man that was a decade older than him, then he would either have to destroy his relationship with his parents, or abandon the man he loved, which would leave both of them bereft. According to Kurt, the two of them were indeed soulmates, and if the bond between them was broken, then neither of them would recover. Such information would mean little to her intern's parents, however; from what he had said, they were quite old fashioned in many ways, but had no time for the supernatural…
Isabelle thought for a moment, and then spoke again. "Might I make a suggestion as to something that you could do before you go home with Mitch; tell your brother all about him, and who he is. Introduce him as your boyfriend, and see how he reacts. You have always told me that he has supported you through everything, and if you can be sure that he is on your side, having someone to back you up when you talk to your folks, then things might go a little easier."
"He has always been so good towards me, but what if this is something that he disapproves of? If he can't stand the idea, he might send me away, and then…"
"You would have to come and stay with me until we can find you another place to live," replied Isabelle, already wondering if Roderick would be willing to take a new roommate in an emergency situation. Dismissing that for now, she continued, "The truth is that I don't think I could cope if I lost you this soon."
"Well, if my family react badly, then you might well never lose me. My college plans would fall apart without my parents financial backing, and I would need a permanent full time job."
"I am sure that it will not come to that," said Isabelle, with as much confidence as she could muster, "But if it does, then you will always have a job here with me." She reached across and took Gideon's hand, and he looked up and mouthed the words 'Thank you' at her. She wondered briefly why he had not spoken out loud, but there was a knock at the open door, and she saw two of the other staff standing there. She guessed that he had seen them approach, and did not wish for his personal problems to become the subject of a water cooler conversation…