When Henry was born, he didn't make a sound. At least according to Arthur, who always told it that way. Apparently, Philip and Bea were the loud ones. But Henry was silent. So quiet the Obstetrician thought something was wrong with him and called for a Pediatrician, immediately. He was whisked away immediately, and Catherine begged Arthur to follow him. Watch over him.
Being the baby of the family, Henry was different. Where Philip and Bea were active children, Henry was quiet. Where Philip and Bea were social, Henry preferred his own company. It wasn't until Henry was four, that he ever wanted to play with Bea. She was six, almost seven and playing dress ups. Thanks to their great aunt, she had a huge collection of dress ups. Every kind imaginable. Thanks to their Gran, she had multiple tea sets. Plastic ones, porcelains ones and even fine bone china tea sets. It quickly became their thing, when Henry was in the mood to play; they'd dress for tea and have a tea party.
One day of no particular consequence, Henry dressed as Snow white, complete with one of his sister's most prized possessions - the tiara their mum and dad had commissioned for her when she turned five. He looked so pretty, sitting there in the royal blue bodice, red and blue capped sleeves, the long yellow skirt; complete with white petty coat under the skirt and the diamond tiara perched in amongst his blonde locks of hair. Not the shade of blonde hair he has now, but the fine baby blonde hair he had back then, almost a sand colour. His charming smile as held his teacup in his hand, daintily - Just like Bea had been taught and was practicing. The way a princess was supposed to hold her teacup. The cup filled with water because their dad had always told them they were too young for tea. Just for the occasion, Bea had asked her governess for some biscuits to munch on, and she had returned with two Jaffa cakes. They weren't Bea's favourite, but they had chocolate, so they would do in a pinch. She offered the china biscuit plate to Henry first, showing off the skills I had just learnt, from the etiquette lessons I had just started having. Before taking one for myself. The look on Henry's face, and in his eyes, as he took that first bite into the choc-orange sweetness was something indescribable. it wouldn't be until years later that I would see that look on my brother's face again. And it wouldn't be caused by a bloody Jaffa cake.
As she grew older, Philip spent more time with their Gran and Mum on royal outings, while Bea with her governess. Between etiquette lessons, piano lessons and equestrian lessons, it seemed like it was all she ever did. Henry was often away with Arthur, allowed to lose himself in books, while on the film sets or at the theatre while Arthur had rehearsals. It was all fine. Even if Bea hated the etiquette lessons, piano lessons and equestrian lessons, she wasn't given a choice. Their Gran's word was law. After all, she wasn't just Gran; she was the Queen of our country and many more. She ruled the kingdom, and our family.
Do not mistake Catherine and Arthur for neglecting Bea. They did not. She would eventually accompany her mum and Gran on royal outings and on royal tours. Her photo would be splashed across the many tabloids and tv screens, just as Philip's was. And Henry's. And Arthur's. They would accompany the Queen as a family to royal events too. Arthur would quite often help Henry with being able to see, or stand up, much to their Gran's dismay. Arthur did always take great pleasure in vexing her. Which Bea believed her mum enjoyed her dad doing too, even if she did chastise him later.
Eventually Henry grew out of tea parties and dress ups, but Bea would pull the big sister card and make him play. Henry would resist, but eventually he would give in. In between his own endeavor's. Lessons at Eton, Equestrian lessons, piano lessons, polo practice. In return, she would attend Henry's polo matches, and cheer him on - in a royal way, of course.
While Henry and Philip were sent to Eton, she was sent to Benenden School – an independent school for girls in Kent. Their Gran, her sister and Great Aunt - Princess Anne, their mother Princess Catherine went there, and her twin cousins Charolotte and Victoria are current students there. Her Great Aunt, Princess Anne is still involved in the Benenden community and occasionally attends events in her role as President of the Benenden Society. She enjoyed my time there. She made a couple of friends, but not too many.
One of Benenden's many flaws were that it was exactly 123 kilometres away from Eton, where Henry was. While it is true, Benenden is not the exact equivalent of Eton, it is close enough. After all Gran liked to remind the females of their family that until Benenden was built, the ladies of the royal family simple forewent undergoing an education. Before self-indulgingly reminding them that if it wasn't for her begging and unhanded manipulation of her father King George, that would still be the way of the family today.
Henry and Bea made the best of the situation, being 123 kilometres away from one another. They corresponded weekly, with letters and a monthly telephone call. They made it work. Coming home for the summer was always a joyous occasion, even if they did have to accompany their Gran to the Sandringham estate for a minimum of two weeks. It was at their time at Carmarthenshire, our non-royal residence Llwynywermod where we always had the most fun. No servants, no help, no titles - Just the family of five of Foxes, being the Fox family.
The return to Kensington ready for another school year, Henry's final year at Eton, and the unspoken tenseness of the palace crept back in. Their father's harsh announcement of his diagnosis hung in the air. Catherine's heartbroken face, but stoic posture was the only trace of the real Princess Catherine. Philip was off, having been on leave from his enlistment and heading back to his base. Bea was at Oxford, studying art in her second year, much to their Gran's dismay. And Henry was back to Eton. At least Oxford and Eton were closer. A mere 71 kilometres, a vast difference from the 123 that they had endured two years before.
Arthur's announcement had shocked them all, by far. By spring break, things were far worse than they had ever been. Catherine was beside herself and Arthur was wasting away before their eyes. Henry had been moody and off-kilter since. But Bea couldn't afford to focus her energy on him, she was struggling to hold it together, herself. She had been partying and drinking and had even tried cocaine, anything to numb the pain she felt.
By the end of the spring break, Arthur had passed. Catherine had retreated into her grief; Bea took whatever she could get her hands on. Sleeping with whoever was willing, just to numb the pain. Philip became a cold, militant version of Gran, she couldn't take that. So, she told him to fuck off. He sent Henry back to Eton, giving him a spiel about how real men do not cry.
The thing about losing their father is that everyone grieves in different ways. But when you are royal, you are not allowed to show emotion. So, they all hid their pain, buried it into the depth of their souls - until they could grieve in private. The whole world was mourning the loss of Arthur Fox - renown star of the stage and screen. Technically a prince consort - the husband and father of royalty. Arthur's funeral was planned down to the exact detail. He wanted it to be private, just his family, and he wanted to be cremated, have his ashes scattered under the old tree in their garden at Llwynywermod. To their Gran, that was unbecoming for a member of the Royal Family. So, she changed his plans. He had a service at Westminster Abbey. Arthur had converted to the Church of England to be marry Catherine, but he was actually a Catholic. His coffin was paraded through the streets of London, with Philip, Henry and Bea to walk behind it. Their grief on display for the world to see. A lecture, stern and sharp had been given by Gran. Her edict for the day. They were to show no emotion, or they would be punished. "Showing emotion was weak and unbecoming for our stature and position in life. It would not be tolerated." She had told them.
Bea remembered the night before Dad's funeral, she had drunk herself to sleep in the palace. Woken up alone in her room. Snorted her secret stash of cocaine. Everything she had, except for her emergency line she kept on my person. A small vile inside her bra, under her left breast. Bea knew she was going to need it to get through the day. There was no way she was getting through the day sober.
She didn't remember much of the actual funeral after being paraded around. The following day, her Gran and Pip forcibly put her in the car and demanded she immediately go to rehab. Apparently, she was the second drama of the day. Philip had taken great delight in telling her that he'd had to forcibly put Henry into a car to, sending him immediately back to school, as if nothing happened. Bea lasted four hours at the rehab, before sneaking out. She called her dealer, and he came and picked her up.
The memories of the rest of that night are hazy for Bea, they come in blocks. She doesn't remember calling Henry at Eton. Doesn't remember telling Henry she wanted to kill herself. Nor does she remember Henry stealing Pez's car and driving down to East London. She has no memory of Henry punching the random guy she was grinding against on the dancefloor. She doesn't remember Henry dragging her off the dancefloor and out of the club.
But she does remember Henry screaming at her. Telling her, how he didn't want her to kill herself. Telling her, he was gay, and their dad was gone, that he was all alone. She does remember him crying in her arms. She remembers crying in his, too. She remembers her promise to him; to get clean and stay clean. When she sobered up, it was almost 5am. They went to a McDonalds drive through for breakfast and sat in the car Henry had taken from Pez. She remembered promising him that she would always be there for him. After breakfast, she asked him to drive her back to the rehab.
There, she worked hard. She got clean, she stayed sober. Bea participated in the therapies and worked with a sponsor to stay that way. She got herself a therapist and begun opening up to her. Their Gran kept her shielded from the media, even though they had already pieced most of the Powder Princess saga together. Eventually, she made Bea ease her way back into royal engagements.
When Henry met Alex, at the Olympics in Rio, he came home and told her jokingly - he had met the man he was going to marry.