TPATSD 7
"Come and sit with me, Henry." His mother urged him after church on a Sunday. They had managed to avoid Queen Mary's request for someone's company for lunch, with Philip jumping at the chance, much to Martha's dismay.
It had been three weeks since she had seen Henry in his office, where he was learning to give Gabriella the bottle. Instead of interrupting them and breaking up the cozy atmosphere they had created, she had simply waved from the doorway, smiled at him, and asked Percy to take her to lunch instead. Percy was usually much easier to get to spill the beans than usual. He kept claiming he didn't know anything. Which Catherine had found frustrating. "Come have some afternoon tea with me and tell me about what you've been up to? What did I miss while I was back in Botswana?"
"It's all been the status quo here, Mum. Nothing to do report." Henry told her, as he took a seat in the sitting room, in her apartment at Kensington Palace.
"Hmm, how is Alex? And how is the baby? Is it Gabriella?" Catherine hoped her segue seemed to flow naturally, and Henry didn't pick up on her prying inquisition.
"Oh Mum, Gabriella is doing so well. She has gained another 600 grams. The pediatrician has told Alex he can stop with the fortifying supplement now." Henry bragged. Catherine watched as his eyes lit up when Henry was talking about her. "Oh, but he has had to change formulas to a thicker one. Little Gabriella has been having trouble with some stomach issues. The doctors are calling it reflux."
"I am familiar with it." Catherine smiled, fondly. She didn't allow the feeling of melancholy take her very far, knowing it would lead to grief and depression. But she couldn't help but think that Arthur would have loved to see Henry like this. So animated and full of life, seeing his eyes light up the way he talks about that baby girl of Alex's. "Bea had it when she was small. She grew out of it before needing any treatment."
"She's struggling to pass wind, so now after a feed, we have to give her this white, milky medicine to help her pass it." Henry added softly. "Oh, and she's grown. Only 3 cm, but she's gone up a size in her clothes now." Henry continued his gushing about Gabriella, including a vivid retelling of when Henry watched her last week and Gabriella threw up on his red tie. The one that his gran had gifted him for Christmas last year that he hated. "And Alex does such an amazing job with her. He's so patient and kind and understanding. He's such a great father."
Catherine looked at her son closely, leaning over to him. She kissed his cheek in a way only a mother could get away with. "Henry, Sweetheart? Not that I'm complaining, but I asked how you were doing. We've talked about Gabriella for twenty minutes now, and Alex for ten."
"Sorry Mum, it's just that I am so bloody proud of them both, and I just lo-" Henry stopped himself from finishing his thought out loud, as he apologised to her again.
"Babies tend to do that." She reminisced, not missing what Henry had almost let slip. Catherine was sure that Henry liked Alex too. "They have this way of climbing inside your heart and twisting up your insides in a way that no one else can."
"She is an angel." Henry whispered, remembering her angelic face as she slept in his arms. "Would you like to see a picture?" Henry offered.
Since he and Alex became acquainted, Gabriella had become a permanent fixture in Henry's camera roll. He had a favorite photo of the three of them, and to no one's surprise, it was a photo that Shaan had taken. It almost made them look like a family. So that one he moved to a secret folder on his phone and showed no one. No, the one he would select was taken at the same time. However, it's just him and Gabriella. Alex is not in the photo. Selecting the correct photo and handing his phone over to his mother, Henry waited with bated breath for a response.
Catherine smiled widely, as she looked down at the photo of Henry holding this baby in his arms. The entrity of his focus was on the small baby he was holding. In that moment his emotions were laid bare, for the world to see. He looked happy. He looked like he belonged there. The love he has for that baby was written all over his face. "Oh, Sweetheart." Catherine sighed happily. This time she did allow herself to let her tears slip from her eyes on to her cheeks. "You look so happy."
Catherine was feeling overemotional, looking at the photo of Henry holding the tiny baby girl, with all of his focuses on her. She couldn't help herself to think that Arthur would have loved seeing this. Seeing Henry like this. The regret that Arthur is missing this moment and would miss all the future moments of Henry with a child. She'd had already had these same feelings about Philip, and understandably so. He is married and now two sons of his own. But having known that Henry was homosexual, and the fact that her mother would never allow Henry to be his true self, it was something that Catherine had never expected to see in her lifetime. She felt blessed to have seen this moment and needed to secretly sent Shaan a thank-you, because she knew that he was the one behind the photo.
Three days later on a Wednesday evening, Henry was at Buckingham Palace. It wasn't a state dinner, but it was a formal dinner of sorts. Everyone happened to be in London at the same time during the working week, which was an extreme rarity. Feeling giddy at the prospect, Queen Mary issued the decree that they would have a family dinner. One that they all must attend.
Catherine had already been at Buckingham Palace earlier in the day, on Royal business and as such, was already there. She had opted to take her clothing with her for dinner and freshen up in her old childhood bedroom there.
Philip and Martha had been in town on engagements and were staying in a guest apartment at Kensington before driving back to Hamer Hall the following afternoon. Not that anyone (Bea, Catherine or Henry) told them to stay there. Philip had just walked in and demanded. Of course, none of their staff refused him. But that was typical of Philip and his persona.
Earlier in the day, Bea had been working on her own charity, raising funds for rehab facilities through planning a series of charity concerts. On that particular Wednesday, Bea had spent almost the entire day in the recording studio, working on their first album. With all proceeds going to her foundation. Bea was already exhausted and the last thing she had felt like doing was attending a formal dinner with her Gran. While she knew it would be mentally taxing, she knew Henry would have it worse.
While Henry had watched Gabriella in the morning, while Alex and Pez had attended the court, on a brief matter regarding some zoning laws for their next project. When he had returned, Alex had treated him to lunch at his favourite falafel stand as a thank you. In turn, Henry had vented to Alex in frustration at being forced to attend tonight's dinner with his grandmother. Alex had been a sympathetic ear for him. By now, Alex was well versed in what Henry liked and disliked about being a royal. The dislike column was lengthier than the like column, to no one's surprise.
Henry had pocketed his cell phone in his blazer pocket, instead of into the bowl to be locked away. His Gran hated cell phones and never used one, unless she absolutely had to. Had to get hold of, and harrass Henry, that is. Even then, it was her staff that called. She rarely did. The only time she called was when either he had royally screwed up, or if she was angry enough at him, she would personally call him to demand his presence in her sitting room, for a dressing down. Either way, whenever she called, it was never good.
Feeling the vibration of his cell phone ringing startled him. Seeing it was Alex, he sent the call to voicemail, thinking he would call him back. Usually by now, dinner was over and he had told Alex he would fill him in on dinner, when he returned to the Palace. Feeling it vibrate again, he pulled the phone out to text a reply. That he could not talk. Alex had never persevered this hard before, constantly calling him. Something was wrong. Before he could get the phone out of his pocket, the doors to the dining room they were all in, opened and Henry's eyebrows rose in surprise to see his own equerry Shaan enter. Making a direct line for Henry, after his customary bow to the family he leaned down and whispered in the prince's ear.
"Sorry to disturb you, Sir. Mr. Claremont-Diaz has been trying to repeatedly contact you this evening." Shaan whispered, pulling back Henry could see the seriousness of the situation on his face. "Miss Claremont-Diaz has been rushed to hospital with some difficulties. He is requesting if you could join him, ASAP."
"What kind of difficulties?" Henry asked back in a whisper, worried and glancing a look at the rest of his family, who had stopped their conversations and were watching the scene closely. Many of them were probably trying to decipher what Shaan was telling him. Mostly his gran and brother, who liked to exercise every iota of control over his personal life. Especially since his father passed.
"I believe it was her breathing, Sir." Shaan said, grimacing as he gave Henry the news. "He was ... incoherent. It took me several attempts to get him calm enough to speak. He was distraught."
"Right." Henry said, ripping the napkin from his lap and hastily tossing it onto the plate of his half eaten, dry baked chicken. "Pull the car around." He ordered, standing up, as Shaan nodded to him and left immediately. Looking at his family, expecting an explanation, but not really wanting to give one. "Please excuse me, I have to leave. Immediately."
"Henry?" Queen Mary tried in her most commanding tone. Henry ignored her. He couldn't deal with her right now.
"Hen?" Bea questioned him. He wanted to tell Bea, but there were too many ears and prying eyes. He would message her later.
"Henry?" His mother asked, simultaneously to her mother and daughter. "What is it, love?"
Martha did not vocalize her concern for Henry, but did give him a firm, questioning gaze. She could see that whatever news her brother in-law had received was distressing and she felt for Henry. But Henry wasn't exactly forthcoming with details to them. Yet, his body language was screaming 'emergency', at her. She wanted to comfort Henry, but she wasn't quite sure how to. They weren't quite their yet in their relationship.
Henry chose to ignore them all. Only his mother and Bea knew about Gabriella and Alex, and he wanted it to stay that way. The less they know the better. Especially Gran and Philip. They might know he is gay, but they would never approve of him being friends with Alex. They would always think it was something twisted and perverted. The only reason he and Percy were allowed to remain friend was because they had been friends since they were young children at Eton. Even then, his Gran and Philip only ever tolerated Pez.
"HENRY!" Philip's voice boomed, reverberating through the dining room. Philip's voice reminded him of his grandfather's, back when he was young, and his grandfather would yell at everyone. It had an anger to it, a venom. The same kind of venom in his voice that Philip always had towards Henry; no matter what he did.
"What is it, love?" Catherine asked softly, trying again, as she stepped up close to him. She kept her voice low, and soft. She could see the tears in his eyes and the worry was etched on her son's face.
"Gabriella's having trouble breathing." Henry replied softly, angling his body so no one could see his lips or hear him. "She's ... Alex is ... I need to ..."
The thing was, Catherine had suspected for some time that her son loved Gabriella, like a father loved his child. He kept a photo of her on the lock screen of his phone and he knew that they regularly spent time together. He knew that Henry and Alex spoke every day, even if they had already spent eight hours at work together that day. In Henry's sparse free time, he usually had plans with Alex and Gabriella.
"Go, Henry go! I'll make something up for you." Catherine promised, urging her son to go. Henry kissed her cheek and fled the room, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at the verbal protests. "Keep me posted."
"HENRY!" Philip tried again; this time his voice bellowed and was livid and venomous.
"Philip Arthur Charles Andrew Fox Mountchristen-Windsor, just who do you think you are talking to in that tone of voice?" Catherine asked, scolding her son. She had spoken to Philip repeatedly about how he bullied Henry before. For a while, he had been better, but that tone of voice had disgusted her. "I have repeatedly told you to treat both of your siblings with respect. I don't care if you will be the one who will be the next King. I am not only your mother, but your future Queen. You will do as I say."
"Catherine, this is a family dinner." Queen Mary admonished her daughter for snapping at her elder son. "As a member of this family, Henry is supposed to be here. He was not dismissed by me. Whilst you may lecture your son about his tone of voice. Let me remind you that I am the Queen and Philip works for me. Pray tell, what was urgent as to interrupt a family dinner?"
"An emergency, at the shelter." Was all she answered. She promised herself that she would do everything she possibly could to help Henry keep them a secret from the rest of the family.
"That silly little shelter of his." Queen Mary belittling Henry, in her usual voice. "What could possibly be an emergency that they would need him for? Honestly Catherine, i wish you would talk to your son about his involvement of those shelters, it is unbecoming. Honestly, being aligned with those shelters is harmful to the image of the crown. It is a slap in the face to everything we stand for."
"Stop it, Mother!" Catherine harshly chastised Queen Mary.
"Clearly you have taken leave of your senses, child. My position is unchanged, dear: His role in this family is to perpetuate our bloodline and maintain the appearance of the monarchy as the ideal of British excellence, and I simply cannot allow anything less."
The princess who ran away with James Bond, who told her children to give back what their country stole, making a choice. "Mum," she said evenly. "Don't you think we ought to at least have a conversation about other options? We cannot ignore the fact that henry is gay forever. What happens when he meets someone, and they fall in love?"
The Queen's head turns slowly. "And what options might those be, Catherine?" The queen holds up one wizened hand to silence her. "I thought we had been humiliated enough in the papers when Beatrice had her little problem. And I made myself clear to Henry, years ago, that if you were drawn in unnatural directions, appropriate measures could be taken. Why you have chosen to undermine the hard work I've done to maintain the crown's standing is beyond me, and why you seem set on disrupting my efforts to restore it by demanding I summit with some … boy. His role in this family is to perpetuate our bloodline and maintain the appearance of the monarchy as the ideal of British excellence, and I simply cannot allow anything less."
"Well, I think there's something to be said for coming clean. It could save us a great deal of face to treat it not as a scandal, but as an announcement." Catherine suggested. Martha smiled on at her mother in-law. She was proud of Catherine for standing up for Henry. her brother in-law was a soft and kind spoken man, he deserved to be happy. "We could integrate this into our narrative," Catherine says, choosing her words with extreme precision.
"I see. So, your plan is to allow him to choose this life?" Queen Mary asked. "Allow him to associate himself with the filth of filth. He has no place being associated with the kind of riff raff that place attracts."
"It's the only life for him that's honest, Mum." Catherine said, exasperated with her. "I think it's time we opened the conversation up. He cannot remain closeted and closed off forever."
"We can entertain hypotheticals, but the fact of the matter is that anything but maintaining the royal image is out of the question," The Queen said, setting down her cutlery. "The country simply will not accept a prince of his proclivities. I am sorry, dear, but to them, it's perverse."
"Perverse to them or perverse to you?" Catherine asked her, pointblank.
"Is there a boy, then?" Martha asked, after a brief tension filled silence. She had excellent hearing, and she was she heard the word 'he' uttered in Henry's ear from Shaan.
"There's the idea of one." Bea smiled at her sister in-law. She too has a theory that Henry had a crush on Alex and as his older sister, was happy to fight tooth and nail, for henry's freedom. "Henry would never be happy in an arranged marriage, no matter the woman. He deserves to be happy, living his truth."
"Nobody's saying he doesn't deserve to be happy," Philip cut his sister off. "First love makes everyone mad—it's foolish for him to throw away his future because of some hormonal decisions based on his life when he was barely in his twenties."
Bea looked Philip square in the face and said, "He has been gay as a maypole since the day he came out of Mum, Philip."
"Even if he is willing to submit to the flogging in the papers, it doesn't erase the stipulations of his birthright: He is to produce heirs. End of discussion." The Queen said with a voice that she had intended to be final. As if she truly believed her word, was gospel.
It wasn't.
"We can have a real legacy here, of hope, and love, and change. Not the same tepid shite and drudgery we've been selling since World War II—" Catherine tried once more, getting angrier and angrier at her mother.
"You will not speak to me this way," Queen Mary said icily to her daughter. One tremulous, ancient hand still resting on her cutlery.
"I'm sixty years old, Mum," Catherine said "Can't we eschew decorum at this point?"
"No respect. Never an ounce of respect for the sanctity—"
"Or, perhaps I should bring some of my concerns to Parliament?" Catherine threatened, keeping her tone dripping with condescension, as she leaned in to lower her voice right in her mother's face.
"You know, I do think Labour is rather finished with the old guard. I wonder, if I were to mention those meetings you keep forgetting about, or the names of countries you can't quite keep straight, if they might decide that forty-seven is perhaps enough years for the people of Britain to expect you to serve?"
The tremor in the queen's hand has doubled, but her jaw is steely. The room is deadly silent. "You wouldn't dare." Queen Mary argued.
"Wouldn't I, Mum? Would you like to find out?" Catherine threatened.
Shaan had Henry and a PPO at the hospital in under seven minutes. Henry burst through the entrance to the emergency department, with Shaan hot on his heels like a rabid dog. Coming to a stop, he looked around the room, wondering where to go. Shaan stepped up and touched his shoulder in comfort, before heading off to the admin desk to see if he could locate Alex.
Admin refused to give Shaan any information, even at his insistence that Henry had been called by Alex to come. On the off chance she would gossip to the press, Shaan had her sign an NDA too. Henry's eyes went wide, when Shaan filed it away in his briefcase and Henry saw the stack of blank ones, unsigned. Then Henry remembered that anyone he came into contact with, in regards to Gabriella and Alex would need one. Having either of them leaked to the press would not be a good thing right now ... or ever. He wanted to protect them from the harshness of the press.
Henry had been calling and calling Alex, not getting an answer. Shaan excused himself to use the men's room. He was only gone a minute, before he was summoning his charge into the men's room. There Shaan had found Alex, sitting on the floor, curled over a toilet. He was exhausted and there were tears falling down his face, as he occasionally dry heaved into the bowl. But there was nothing left to heave. When Henry joined him, and was sorting Alex out, Shaan discreetly slipped out of the men's room, leaving them alone.
"Oh Alex," Henry cried softly, taking in his friend's appearance. It was painful for Henry to see him like this. He had never seen Alex this bad, een the day of Erica's funeral, he had managed to hold himself together and speak. But this was something else entirely. "How is...?"
"They w...won't let me in." Alex cried, heaving again. Alex's tears were so far gone that he didn't even have the energy to wipe them away. "They ... just took out of my arms and left me there."
Henry moved to him, gathering Alex against him, holding Alex close to him. "It is going to be ok, Alex." Henry murmured, pressing his lips to Alex's soft, messy curls. "She is going to be ok. Do you know why? Because she is a Claremont-Diaz and they are tough as fuck! They are stubborn and they do not give up."
"Hen ... her breathing was labored; she had ... her skin was sucking in tightly at her neck as she breathed. She was struggling." Alex sobbed, letting more tears fall. Instead of facing the toilet and dry heaving, Alex turned himself and sobbed into Henry's shirt, keeping a clenched fist on the prince's shirt. "She had grey around her lips."
She had started coughing. Just a small one, nothing too concerning earlier on in the day. As the day ended and the sun set, it was becoming incrementally worse. I called an ambulance, Hen."
"Did they give you anything?" Henry asked softly, not wanting his question to startle or upset Alex further. Alex's breathing was calm and relaxed. Not like the panicked breathes, harsh sobs and dry heaves he was having when Shaan had found him.
"They gave her oxygen on the way here and they made me wait here." Alex replied, in a small voice. Almost as if he was afraid that if he spoke louder, something worse might happen. "I am sorry to call you. You had that family dinner, and I didn't know who else to call for help..."
"Hey, don't apologise." Henry admonished him lightly. "I am the one who told you to call me, no matter what."
"I hope you don't mind. They asked for a local emergency contact if I was unavailable. I gave them your number. Told them your name was Henry Fox." Alex explained to him. The anxiety in his voice was easy to hear and Henry prayed he remained calm. "I can make it Pez, if you prefer."
"Don't you dare." The sound of the men's room door opening, interrupted Henry from continuing.
"Sir? Mr. Claremont-Diaz?" Shaan voice rang out, before Henry called out that they were in the end stall. "I have managed to procure us a small private waiting room and Gabriella's doctor will be out to update us in ten minutes."
"Thank you, Shaan." Henry said softly to him with a nod. Usually, the nod meant that Shaan was dismissed, but rather Henry hoped Shaan knew he had only meant to take a step outside. "Come on, Darling. Let's get ourselves off the bathroom floor and into the waiting room."
The room that Shaan led them to, was a small windowless room. If the door was closed, it could have been claustrophobic. Shaan stood in the doorway, keeping the door slightly ajar. One thing that this room did offer, besides privacy, was a massive sky light in the ceiling.
"Alex?" Henry called softly, coming to stand in front of him, blocking his path. "Stop, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet. Whatever happens, we will get through it. Together."
"Oh God," Alex moaned in agony and let his mind run away with itself. His mind was spiraling, and he couldn't help himself. "She's going to die, Hen. You didn't see her. She was grey around the lips and struggling to breathe. Her chest made this awful little sound when she did breathe."
Henry exchanged a look with Shaan. Henry hadn't seen her yet, so he had no frame of reference, but he too was worrying. What Alex was saying didn't sound good to him. "We need to stay positive, Love." Henry whispered, remembering that Alex has panic attacks too. "Breathe with me, come on."
Reluctantly, Alex joined Henry in matching his breathing. Overall, he wasn't sure if he was helping Alex at all. But he was trying. "Hen?"
Alex's voice was soft, and low. His eyes were chocolate brown and wide open. Henry was standing close to Alex. Inside his personal space. Henry's hands were keeping Alex steady on the younger man's hips. Alex's hands were very large and his long, lanky fingers rested on the back of his forearms, with the tips of his fingers brushing his elbows. Henry chose to ignore how close the two of them had become. Especially when Alex's gaze kept going to the prince's lips.
"Calm now?" Henry asked, stepping back slightly. He needed to keep a more respectful distance between them for a multitude of reasons. One, they were in public. Two, a hospital waiting room was hardly romantic. Three, perhaps the most important of reasons. Now was not the time. Not while Gabriella was sick.
At Alex's nod, he continued "Now, Alexander... Insert middle name here... Claremont-Diaz, listen to me. Gabriella is strong. She is tough. She fights every single moment of every single day. Now, it's your turn to fight for her. Be strong for her."
"Sir? Mr. Claremont-Diaz?" Shaan's voice broke through their standoff. "This is Dr Sanders."
Henry was ever so grateful in that moment. There was only so much he could take. Sometimes he was convinced that Alex was straight and not interested in men. Then there were other times when Alex flirted with him, more than usual and it gave him hope. He knew that Alex had been engaged, and to a woman. But he didn't know the particulars. He had also been involved in the shelter with Percy long enough to know that a relationship with a woman, did not speak to one's sexuality. Pansexuality definitely existed; he knew that for a fact. Pez was always rabbiting on about the wonders of pansexuality. Bisexuality existed too and was truly a rich and complex tapestry. All he knew was Alex drove him insane, in the best way. And that one of these days, he was not going to be able to take a second longer of Alexander Claremont-Diaz. He was going to kiss the daylights out of the boy. Henry couldn't even pinpoint the moment that he realised that his feelings for Alex, had changed. "Doctor?" Henry's voice perked up.
"How is she?" Alex rushed at him, eager to find out how his daughter was doing. He had been so worried. The last he had seen of Gabriella was the doctor and nurses taking her from his arms and rushing her behind locked double doors, leaving him with the paperwork and baby-less.