A State in Mourning Part I

The morning of February the 16th 2023 dawned like any other late winter morning in London. The people of the city were up and about from early on, preparing for work and school as usual. The transport system stuttered along with the odd delay or issue as always, so nothing was unexpected to its users. The milkmen had been out and about, delivering their wares to doorsteps across the city, an old part of life returned as their reused glass bottles were much more eco friendly than the plastic bottles from the supermarkets; the electrically powered milk floats that they used to deliver them much the same…

Nick and Jeff had woken as usual, and had followed what was now their daily routine. Just before 8am, Nick was getting ready to leave and head for the tube to squeeze aboard the Piccadilly line train to the office, but on a whim he decided that he would catch the news on the radio first. They had both come to favour BBC Radio 2, as it was informative as all of the BBC's channels were, but also played an eclectic mix of music that they liked and often recognised; that they could sing along with. At the same time, little Wes was being put into his coat by his papa, with the intention being that they would all leave together, walk with daddy to the tube, then carry on to the kindergarten themselves…

The sound of the pips, the time signal broadcast each hour from Greenwich, the centre of global time, by the BBC filled the room, but Nick had noticed that in the last words that she had said before they began, there had been a catch in the voice of Zoë Ball, the DJ; she had told the listeners that it was time for the news, but she had not mentioned what was coming next in her show, as she always did, every morning… As the last and longest of the pips came, there was a longer than usual silence, and that was noticed by Jeff, who looked up from where he was fastening buttons; and then came the newsreader's voice.

"This is the BBC. It has been announced by Buckingham Palace that His Royal Highness, Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, passed away in his sleep in the early hours of this morning. Our thoughts, and that of the nation, are with Her Majesty the Queen at this sad time for her and her family. In light of this news, all normal scheduling has been suspended, and BBC radio broadcasts have been merged…"

The newsreader moved on to talk about the life of the Duke, as Nick and Jeff stood silently in contemplation for a moment. "The poor Queen," said Jeff eventually in a sad voice. "She loved him so much, and they had been married for over 75 years. I can't even begin to think how she must be feeling right now; how the whole family must feel…"

"I am guessing that things will be a little subdued for a while," said Nick, suddenly realising that although he was wearing a dark grey suit, he had on a bright red tie. "I should go and change my tie; the colour seems out of place in the circumstances…"

Jeff nodded, and let him run up the stairs as he observed their son; he was wearing the grey 'uniform' of the kindergarten; he himself was in black more or less, wearing an open necked white shirt, so he would pass easily too. Nick came back, and handed him a black tie, which Jeff realised would have to be worn that day; then his husband was gone again, without explanation this time. He headed into the hall in time to see the light coming into the hall from the living room fade, and then Nick stepped out and looked at him.

"I saw people across the Square drawing their curtains again; not just one house, but several of them. It is an old tradition that when someone dies in the street, the neighbours would draw their curtains as a mark of respect. I guess the whole country is doing it on this occasion." Jeff nodded, and began to tie his tie. Nick meanwhile knelt down to speak to Wes. "You will need to be as quiet as a mouse today at school. It is not a day for chatter…"

"Because the people are all sad for the Queen?" asked Wes.

"Exactly, so I need you to make sure papa stays quiet whilst he walks you to school…" As Wes nodded, Jeff stuck his tongue out at his husband as he stood behind him. With one final look, they headed out, running just a little later than usual…

They walked the short distance to the tube station, past houses that more or less all had their curtains drawn, past people in sombre mood or dressed in dark colours. The normal hubbub and noise that echoed around the station was muted, the BBC announcement being up on the information screens. The staff were in their bright blue uniforms and orange vests as usual, but they were all wearing black armbands; someone high up in the organisation had obviously decided it was a sensible precaution to keep them handy as he had aged….

Nick said goodbye quietly to his husband and son, then headed down to his train; it was still as busy as normal, but there were no voices being raised to be heard above the roar of the train. That morning's free newspaper lead with an article which was critical of an MP; the evening edition would be so much different. He alighted at Holborn as usual, and headed out of the station for the short walk to the office. As he waited to cross the busy road, he noticed that the Union Jack that flew above the office building across the street was already flying at half mast; the doorman at the hotel just down from his own building was also wearing a black armband on his uniform…

What got Nick more than that was the silence; the traffic still roared, the few birds still tried to sing, but the people were not speaking. A figure that had been there in the background for the whole of their lives for the majority of them was gone, and all that was left for them to do was mourn…

He was a minute late on arriving at the office, but no-one even noticed. The head of the London office saw him, but just checked what he was wearing and nodded his approval. Nick noticed that the BBC News was broadcasting on one of the computers, the volume turned low…

"I am afraid that this will be the way of things for as long as it takes to organise the funeral," the head of the office said suddenly. "The rumour is that it will take place on Tuesday, as it gives the guests that will be coming from around the globe time to get here. I am informed that all of the West End theatres will be closed tonight, along with the cinemas; after tonight, we will have to see. Life will go on, but with a black edge to it all…" Nick nodded, wondering if New York would behave in this way if a President died; somehow he could not picture it being the same. "I have of course informed the duty night officer in New York, and spoke to Geneva on the protocol. We are to follow the British lead, and dress soberly. For us now, as for most in this country, our work must go on…"

As he walked away, a thought suddenly came to Nick. He headed over to his desk, and as unobtrusively as he could, pulled out his cellphone and dialled a number. He knew that whilst it might be 4.10am in Washington DC, Trent would want and indeed need to know about events on his side of the Atlantic ASAP…

Trent groaned at first as his phone began to ring; it was just after 4am, and he had been up late with work the night before. He grabbed for it, knowing that there was no way he could just allow it to ring; it could be a national emergency after all, or their surrogate could have gone into labour early. He did even glance at the name on the display as he answered, and uttered a very tired, "Hello…"

"Trent, it's Nick. I know that it is early, so please don't shoot me; there is something happening here that I thought you ought to know about now. It was announced on the BBC Radio about an hour ago that the Duke of Edinburgh has died."

"The Duke of…" Trent stopped talking as his mind woke up all of a sudden. "Wow, okay, so I am assuming that things are a bit strange over there?"

"It's how quiet everyone is, Trent; they are all going about the things they would do on any normal morning, but no-one seems to be talking. People are wearing dark colours already, and those that can't are wearing black armbands. There is no music playing on the radio, and I think that there is nothing but news and documentaries about the Duke on the television.. Even the West End is closing its doors tonight. It seems right though; he was a good age, had served his country, and it is a mark of the people's respect for him, and his wife…"

"Okay, well I might well call you back a little later; it would be good to have an extra set of eyes and ears on the ground. Just now though I need to go and amend a speech; between us, when the President met him last month, he was told in confidence by Her Majesty that it would not be long before he passed away. The President asked me to write something to use for this moment, so it is already written - but of course, I didn't tell you that…"

"Tell me what?" said Nick. Trent chuckled despite himself, then rang off. He climbed out of bed, taking care not to disturb Rory, who had slept through everything, and headed down to his computer, where he began to review and update the text he had prepared for the President's official statement.

As Nick settled down to his work that morning, fully aware that he would probably have a conference call with his immediate bosses in the Human Rights department back in New York, Jeff was heading home in silent contemplation. The walk to the kindergarten that morning had almost been surreal; little Wes was usually such a chatterbox in the mornings, commenting on all that he saw, but this morning he had just clutched his papa's hand tightly. He did ask why the flags outside the Natural History Museum were being lowered on their poles; Jeff was not able to explain the reasoning, but he did know that it was done as a tribute to the person that had just died. That degree of respect was evident in the drawn curtains and lowered blinds of every house that they passed. He noted too that the staff of the bakery that they passed just before they arrived at the kindergarten, where they occasionally stopped to but a treat before school, were in the process of removing the normal display of colourful cakes from the window, leaving just empty black trays and a few loaves of bread…

The usual parents were in the process of dropping their children off as Jeff and Wes walked up, but they did so in silence, without the usual chatter of children or gossip amongst their mothers. Waiting at the gate as ever was Miss Frobisher, dressed soberly today in black, and as Jeff approached she acknowledged him. "This must all seem a little strange to you, Mr Sterling-Duval; that we all seem to be feeling this loss so much. He was you see a very public figure before he decided to retire from his royal duties; albeit a controversial one at times. He was outspoken, and his decidedly non PC gaffes were the stuff of legend. He also established an awards scheme for young people, which has done and continues to do so much good after all these decades, and of course he was always there, a few steps behind, supporting his wife in all her major duties. She will of course feel his loss so keenly…"

"I can only imagine how hard it must be to lose the man that you love after being together so long…" replied Jeff, thinking that when the time came, he wanted to die before Nick, as he did not believe he could bear being without him.

"The country will be like this until the funeral takes place; Her Majesty will not have any duties at all for the next 8 days, according to the rules and procedures laid down decades ago; that actually means that the government stops for the same length of time, as she has to give assent to everything. Apart from the funeral, she will be out of the public gaze for the next 30 days, whilst the whole family will be in official mourning. Our lives, however, must go on, but with changes; no outside play, and quiet as we can be. There will be no music, and no games. It will be strange…"

On arriving back in Thurloe Square, Jeff headed straight up to the bright room at the back of the house where he did his work. The curtains there remained open, the rule on them being drawn only applying to those windows that were visible from the street. He sat down at his desk, but did not bother to switch on the radio as he usually did for background noise; there would be none, and it would not seem right anyway. He wondered how the Duke and Duchess were feeling; he would of course be mourning the death of his grandfather, and no doubt also supporting his father and grandmother at these most difficult of times. He wished that there was something that he himself could do for the woman that he had met three times now, and who was such a great fan of his work. And then it hit him; he could possibly draw something for her; a private piece. He could make a drawing of the Duke in his prime…

"That's not a bad idea," came Finn's voice, startling him a little. Jeff looked up to see Finn standing there looking a little down. "I can't work today as obviously the office staff of the England section is taking a mourning day; his collection was a big deal of course, and I was advised by Emily, my contact, that I should stay away from the office today whilst the dust settles. So, going with your idea, we should find a picture of him that you could copy and update; in fact, a picture of them both together, possibly from when they first met…." Finn paused, recalling something that Emily had shown him. "I think there is actually an official picture from the day that their engagement was announced; that is how she will want to remember him. The best thing is that all of the printed images of that period are in black and white; if you could produce one in colour, like the Judging Angel…"

Jeff nodded with enthusiasm, knowing that Finn had just managed to hit the nail of the head. Something like that would be the most fitting thing that he could produce for a Queen….

As Jeff began to hunt online for a perfect copy of the photograph in question from which he could begin to draw, and for some sort of indication in the press at the time as to what the colour was that the Queen was wearing, Trent was finishing up the adjustments to his speech over in Washington, and sending the revised copy to the President's e-mail, so that it would be there for him when he woke. By this time, it was just after 5am; Rory had woken up too, and had switched on the television. The news channels were naturally running with the story as their lead, and were quoting the Oval Office as saying that the President was saddened, and would make an official statement on behalf of the nation in due course. There was also a lot of speculation as to how the Vice President would react, given that she and her husband had enjoyed a personal friendship with the monarch and her late husband.

Rory had made coffee the moment that he had come into the kitchen before pulling out his own laptop, and with a copy of Trent's words before him, had quickly composed a statement for Burt to make as Leader of the House, should he be asked to do so. He made sure that he did not mimic Trent's words or indeed tone exactly; in any case, he had his own ideas and ways of framing things; that had made them a formidable team for Burt back in the day.

At 5.35am, Trent's phone had pinged with an incoming message, one of grateful thanks from the President for his speech, and a request that he pass on his gratitude to Nick for getting the information to Trent so quickly. He informed Trent that he would be making his statement at just after 7am, and that an official letter of condolence was being delivered to the Palace by the ambassador. Having read the message, Trent decided to check Twitter, to see what was being said. He quickly found official statements from nearly every state in the British Commonwealth, every state in Europe, and a great many in Asia, Africa and the Pacific. As he watched, the official statement from the USA appeared. The day was going to be marked and noted around the world, largely due to the lady to whom he had been married for so long. It was also a good indication of what might happen when she herself passed away….

Trent made it into the office just before the President went on air, with the Vice President standing at his side. The words that he said set the tone of the day perfectly, and the more emotional statement that she delivered added to them. They were watched by a nation that had woken up to the news; a story that did not really impact upon them. Nonetheless, Thad made a mental note that he would call Nick as soon as the school day drew to a close, to see how events were impacting on him and Jeff; he had seen the pictures coming from the UK correspondent on NBC, and it showed a city of people wearing black and greys, or with black armbands; a city were the populace was walking in silence. Then there were the drawn curtains and lowered blinds, the shop windows festooned in black ribbon and crepe paper. A funereal atmosphere was never good, but to Thad, the idea of an entire nation being in one was more than a little mind-blowing if he was being totally honest…

Nick and Jeff were in Sebastian's thoughts too, although he had actually been awake, with Francis in his arms, when the news story had broken. He had considered calling them up then and there, until he realised the time in England, and how busy they would be with their morning routine. His thoughts then turned to the Queen, and the other members of her family, so many of whom he had met; it would be awful to have to grieve for the loss of a close family member in such a public way as they would be expected to…

For Roderick, his first thoughts were for Mason and Jane, and how events would affect them. Without even being told, he guessed that his best friend would not be going on his mission that night, not in a city that seemed to be filled with a sense of loss and sadness. The news had given him a break from his own problems for a little while as he thought of others. He was still trying to decide whether he should send in the application form for the nurse training program that he had been looking into. There was a large part of him that saw it as his future path now, but the journalist in him saw it merely as a useful sideline. He had also looked into childcare courses, but had dismissed them more easily; he did not picture himself being a 'manny' for the rest of his life…

Just before 1pm London time, the call that Nick had been expecting all day finally arrived. He had not spoken to Ms Worthington all that often since his year abroad had begun, and in truth, he missed her; she missed him as much, not that she would ever admit that to him. They discussed the days events, and she asked that he keep her up to date with developments, which was no problem at all. It was then that she said something that surprised and startled Nick. "The United Nations will be sending a representative to the funeral on the whole of the organisation's behalf, but the Duke was a particular admirer of the efforts of our department, and thus we have been asked to send someone ourselves. We have talked about it, and the general consensus was that we should send you. You are already on the ground, and you also know the family on a personal level. Obviously Jeff will be able to attend with you."

Nick was silent for a moment as he recovered from the shock, then said, "I, erm, I don't really know what to say. It is an honour to be chosen, but a task too. I will do my utmost to ensure that we are represented properly…." It was only after he had ended the call that he realised that he had no idea what the protocol was for a royal funeral; what you wore for a start, other than black. He also wondered just how he would break this piece of news to Jeff. It was after all one thing to be around a family in their happy times; an all together different matter when they were lost in grief…

Back home, Jeff's long search through the internet had finally yielded him the best copy of the official engagement photograph he could find online; he was just in the process of printing it off on their photo printer when he heard a knock at the front door. He wondered who it could possibly be on such a day, and hoped that it was not one of the neighbours come to comment on the level of mourning they were showing from the appearance of their home. He opened the door with due caution, and was surprised and yet delighted to find Mason on the doorstep. He ushered him in, and then closed the door quietly.

"I hope that you don't mind me coming over unannounced, but I needed the company. Jane is at work, though from what she is saying the atmosphere in her office is decidedly subdued; indeed, the whole City of London is deathly quiet. She is reliably informed that although the Stock Exchange is open, there is next to no trading taking place. As for me, well I received a call telling me that the show was cancelled tonight just as I was about to head in, and they are waiting for guidance as to what happens tomorrow; reading between the lines though, I think that we will be back on stage. I have been told that he did not want a lot of fuss; no State funeral or anything like that. I did think that I could maybe spend the day with some of the others in the cast, but most of them are British, and they all seem to have plunged into mourning, and well… I just wanted to be around someone that might be a little less affected."

"I can fully understand that," Jeff replied. "It is so quiet; people are either not talking at all, or in very low voices if they do. I do get it, and having met them, my thoughts are obviously with the family at this time, but it is just a little depressing as well. I do hope that the funeral is sooner rather than later…"

"Snap; I want the noise back! Does feeling that way make me a terrible person, given the reason behind all of the silence?"

"I don't think so; I think that it makes us human. Well, given the time, why don't I rustle the two of us up some lunch, and then we can sit down and have a proper catch up before I have to go and pick up Wes…"

Mason ended up staying right up until that time, the two of them talking in low voices, and laughing a little, but in a very hushed way. When Jeff headed to the kindergarten, Mason decided to head into the City and meet Jane at her office. He had decided to take her out for dinner, something that they rarely did. People had been cancelling bookings at restaurants, out of respect and because of the shutdown of the theatres, but the establishments in question were staying open; they were thus advertising special deals to fill those empty chairs. On finding that out, Mason had made a quick check on his phone, and had discovered the deal of the decade on a meal at the Savoy Grill. It was rare for them to be able to eat out, and certainly the restaurant in question would normally have been way over their budget. He did feel a little guilty as he booked it, but only a little…

Collecting Wes from kindergarten that night was even more surreal than the walk had been that morning; the children were normally full of high spirits as they were released, but that afternoon they were silent. Wes came over and took Jeff's hand, and then they headed off, waving to Miss Frobisher as they went. "I hope that school wasn't too strange today," Jeff said quietly to his son as soon as they were out of earshot.

"It was a little, papa. We usually have music today, but we did extra reading instead, and instead of playing with toys this afternoon, we all did drawing. Nobody was chatting either, not even at lunchtime when we are allowed…" replied Wes, who then became thoughtful looking. "The Duke was the great-granddad of Prince George, wasn't he? He was very old…."

"He was, yes."

"My great-granddad isn't as old, is he?"

"No, he is much younger. You see, the Duke was 27 years old when he had his son, George's granddad; he was 33 years old when he had his son, George's dad, and he was 31 years old when he had George. In your family, all of the dad's were much younger when they had their children."

"I am so glad, papa; I don't want my great-granddad to die anytime soon. Do you think that the Duke will be in heaven, like Uncle Wes, and Uncle Blaine, and Uncle Kurt?"

"I think that he will be; he was in general a very good man." Wes nodded in reply to his papa's final words, and then they walked on in silence. As they went, they passed the patisserie, it's window devoid of all of the usual confections. As a result, Wes gave it only a cursory glance as they passed, and showed none of his usual inclination to stop. That left Jeff with no excuse to pause either…

Nick would arrive home earlier than usual that night. "The decision was made to shut the offices an hour earlier than normal tonight. The offices of the UK government had all closed down already, given that the Queen will not be making any new laws for the time being, and also a lot of the people that we usually liase with are busy elsewhere and unavailable. The only thing that I do know for certain is that the West End theatres will be reopening tomorrow night; concerts and the like are to go ahead, and that the BBC should start to broadcast music again, albeit within certain bounds. It is what the Duke requested, and Her Majesty has insisted upon it. I think there has been some surprise at how the nation has reacted; in this modern era, no-one was expecting this kind of reaction…."

Nick paused, and took a breath. "I have also been told that the funeral will be held, in private, on Tuesday. The venue will be Windsor as per his instructions, and there will be a public memorial service in due course…"

"It is going to be a long weekend then; at least having the music back will help a little. I was so tempted earlier with all the silence to slip in my earbuds and tune into one of the New York stations online…"

"I am sure that you aren't the only one," said Nick. "Look, I have something to tell you, and well… My boss called from New York, and the department was selected to have a representative at the funeral, and as I am here, they've chosen me. So I will be in the party representing the UN on Tuesday - and that means you will be expected to join me there…"