Anna Margaret looked in the direction of the sound. It had been a man's voice. "I don't know any men who'd shout obscenities at me like that," she said. "It's got to be for you." It had sounded familiar rather than dangerous, so she was merely curious.
"It was not an obscenity," Frederick corrected. He waved at someone. "It's Chris. He can't very well shout my name across the street, can he?"
"Who's Chris?"
"Security."
A man crossed the street. Anna Margaret did not know if she had seen him before.
"When did you escape? Should we chip you or something? I don't see anyone with you. Or is this a new colleague?" Chris asked as he studied her.
"What are you doing here?" Frederick inquired.
"I live here. Well, some way back you passed my house and I followed you from there. You're all right? You haven't been abducted?" he gave Anna Margaret a sideways glance.
"No, of course not."
"You need to stop doing this," Chris said, shaking his head. "If you slip out of the gates, it's us who get fired."
Anna Margaret wondered what this Chris would do. Was he obliged to escort the king if he saw him unattended?
Chris gave her a look now. "If I may say so, madam, this isn't smart. It's going to cost you your job if something happens."
"How do you know who I am?" She was still wearing her sunglasses.
"We were briefed."
"Briefed?" she exclaimed. That was horrible. She had never considered that anyone might need to be briefed who had not come from France with them. But of course they would be. It was stupid of her to have overlooked that.
"Listen. Come in and have a drink while I phone the team. Once they're here, you can walk on."
She thought Chris might be some sort of team leader. He was a few years older and obviously carried enough authority to tell a king what to do. Not that this was difficult where Frederick was concerned. Chris had a wife or girlfriend, which was obvious from the shoes in the hall, but she did not seem to be home. He invited them to sit on a couch facing a screen showing football matches.
Anna Margaret pondered her future. Would she always have two shadows tagging along whenever Frederick was with her? Could they never spontaneously slip out? She sat down and pushed her sunglasses into her hair. She did not want to be dismissed simply because she was walking with Frederick, but she knew it was a possibility if others viewed it as dangerous.
"I'm sorry," she said to Chris. "How exactly were you briefed?"
"About you?" he asked as he set down two glasses. "Oh. Let me think."
She leant into Frederick when Chris disappeared again. "How horrible."
"What's horrible?"
"They were briefed." It was barely two weeks since he had first kissed her. They had been briefed directly after Italy, she assumed, when there had been very little to go on. And they would not know about the kiss. They might have been imagining all sort of other things, however. They had taken a hotel somewhere after all.
Chris appeared again, carrying a tray with bottles. "Just help yourself and pick one. This is all I have."
Anna Margaret was intent on getting an answer. "What were you briefed about?"
Chris sat down as well. "When the others returned from Italy, we were informed about his possible romantic interest, naturally."
"I'll just use your facilities then, eh Chris?" said Frederick and left the room. Apparently he did not like hearing his romantic interest being discussed.
Anna Margaret felt alone. Still, she had to do this and she could. "And exactly how possible was it deemed to be?"
Chris gave a shrug. "The ones who'd been with you were sure of it, the rest of us were just baffled. I personally thought you might see it as a good career move."
"A good career move. You've just told me I could lose my job."
"If you became the queen instead, would that matter?"
"Except that I won't become the queen; he's abdicating." It was unsettling that some people might think this of her.
He said nothing, appraising her.
"And you think I'd lose interest now?" she inquired.
"It's possible."
She stared at him, not quite knowing what to say. He was still studying her and she could not tell if he really believed this or if he had been provoking her for some reason.
Frederick returned. He picked up on the mood right away. "What's the matter?"
"He..." Anna Margaret pointed. "He think I may have taken up with you because I wanted to become a queen and he thinks I may now dump you."
"Haha."
"But it's just..."
"I know. She's never tried to dissuade me for a second. And she's also never hinted that with her wifely guidance I'd suddenly be perfect in the role," he said to Chris. Clearly he did not believe that he would be perfect with anyone's wifely guidance.
"Wifely guidance!" Anna Margaret blurted out, even more unsettled. It was early days yet, but he had never alluded to getting married. She had always understood he did not want to be married to anyone, simply because marriage was more or less expected of him.
"Yes, sorry, you know king equals marriage, in most people's minds, and if you had been so inclined, you would not have settled for girlfriendly guidance. But you're not so inclined. Well, you're inclined to guidance, but girlfriendly will suit you fine. Won't it?"
"So if you'd stayed king, you wouldn't have married me?" she asked for Chris' benefit.
"Definitely not," he said. "I am in principle all for freedom in this regard. The king should be allowed to have a girlfriend, boyfriend, even husband. If he doesn't want to procreate, he does not. If he wants to employ a surrogate because his partner is a man, he could. Anything that isn't marrying a good-looking virginal pedigreed girl without too much of a brain and producing at least two children with her. Anything."
"If in me you believe you found the opposite of that description I'm not sure I should be entirely pleased," Anna Margaret commented.
He leant sideways and whispered in her ear. "Yes, I definitely failed on the good-looking part."
Chris was still watching them. "Have a drink," he reminded them.
Anna Margaret picked a bottle of apple juice. She poured it into a glass. "I thought, Frederick, you had told someone where you were."
"But you're not there right now," Chris pointed out.
"No, we went out," Frederick replied. He did not seem concerned. "I can defend myself. You only recognised me because you know me. Other people don't. We've just been to a party and only one or two people knew who I was."
"Listen," Anna Margaret said to Chris. "I understand your point of view, but how is he supposed to have any sort of life like this? Give the man some training and let him fend for himself."
"Oh, the worst thing is, I've had the training and I'm still not allowed to use it," Frederick commented. "I can shoot, but I'm not allowed to."
"Well, I'm - no," she decided. "Soon you'll be out and it will all be irrelevant. Because I certainly hope I'm not going to require two shadows for the rest of my life." She had them during working visits abroad and she accepted that; it was only temporary. It would drive her crazy to have them at all times.
Frederick looked pleased with that somehow. He opened a bottle of water.
"So," said Anna Margaret. She was not yet ready to let Chris off the hook. "I know you mean well. No, I would rather not be made responsible if something happened to him, but I think some people are losing sight of the fact that we are dealing with a human being here who has feelings and needs. He's not an object."
"We do not think he is."
"Yes, you do. Even your ideas about his possible romantic interest imply that, because you were seriously reckoning with the possibility that I viewed him as a career move, in other words, an object."
Chris' eyes widened slightly.
"Did you ever consider the possibility that he came on to me and not the other way around?" She hoped it qualified as such anyway.
"No," he said immediately.
"Because you see him as an object."
"No, because I don't think he would."
"Well, he did." She sat back in satisfaction.
Frederick merely took a sip from his water.
Chris only laughed and shook his head. "Cheers," he said and held a bottle out in her direction. "I wish I'd been there."
Anna Margaret touched his bottle with her glass. "Cheers. But tell him, Frederick."
"Tell him what?"
"That we're two independent responsible entities."
"I'm hardly independent if I repeat you."
"No, you'd be sensible."
He smiled, but he did not repeat her.
The two men arrived ten minutes later. Chris was notified by phone. "Okay," he said. "You're good to go."
"Does he have permission--" she spoke sarcastically, "--to stay at my flat or does he have to go home?"
"I'm sure your permission will suffice."
"Wow, thanks." In that case she would take him home.
On Sunday morning they went for a run. Anna Margaret was not surprised that Frederick had brought his sports clothes, but she could not imagine that his security detail had. Still, that was not her concern.
After showering they were just ready to sit down for a late breakfast, when the downstairs bell rang. She checked the intercom. She could see two people standing outside the door and walked back to Frederick. "I don't think I'm home. It's my parents."
"Won't they phone you to ask you where you are?"
"Of course they will, but I won't answer. If I don't answer my landline, they'll think I'm out. I don't feel like explaining everything."
"I could have come over for a run."
"And then we showered together. Oh nice. My mum is the sort to check if the other side of the bed was slept in. I'm just not ready for that sort of inquisition yet. Sometimes they think I'm still eighteen. No, I'm not opening the door."
"All right."
After breakfast, just when she thought she should maybe clean something, not having a housekeeper, there was someone at the door of the flat. "Someone let them in?" she whispered to Frederick, as if the person at the door could overhear her.
"They can't still be here."
That was true. They might be curious and insistent, but they had never crossed the line into the obsessive. She nevertheless hesitated before going to the door. It was only Patrick, however.
"We were all set to play a game this afternoon, but one other couple cancelled because one of them is ill," he said. "I was thinking you might still have company - do you? And do you fancy coming over this afternoon instead?"
"Depends on the sort of game."
"Board game. It needs six players to be fun."
"Ah." She looked over her shoulder because he was evidently including Frederick in the invitation. "That means there are two people I don't know." And two people she might not be able to trust.
"Well, you do know them, but they don't know about him."
Frederick might have been listening out of sight, because he was suddenly beside her. He did not seem to care that he would be seen if he was already suspected of being there. "What's the matter?"
"People I know, but who don't know about you - do we want to play a board game with them?"
"Have you already asked if those people are not your parents?" Frederick wanted to know.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "They wouldn't be, would they?"
"No." Patrick shook his head. "It's only Danielle and her husband."
"Oh, Danielle. I think we could trust Danielle." But she nevertheless sounded a little anxious. What would everyone think?
"But not your parents."
"Definitely not. They would tell people. And they would really not like -" She turned to Patrick. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but I'm never going to be the queen." Once her parents heard about the king, they would expect her to become the queen. That he was planning to abdicate was something her father especially would not understand.
"There was a memo of sorts. Not about your not becoming the queen," Patrick hastened to add. "Super secret memo."
"Which means only hundreds of people got it," she said dryly.
"If they even sent it to Agriculture, definitely. But it seems even we may attend the inauguration, since we were requested not to plan any foreign visits in a particular period."
"Nobody asked me that. Does that I mean I won't have to attend?" Frederick asked hopefully.
"Your sister won't allow you to be absent," Anna Margaret guessed. "And I have a feeling I should force you too. But will we or won't we go this afternoon?"
"Wait, wait, what sort of term were they thinking of? A few weeks?"
"Three months," answered Patrick.
"I'm not going to like that."
The afternoon was fun. Anna Margaret had never seen Frederick smile so often in company. He seemed to like games, but he did not mind if he lost. He had been introduced only as Frederick and their relationship had not been specified to Danielle and her husband, but it was likely they had guessed everything anyway. They had after all not once asked what he did for a living or where he lived, or even how he knew Patrick.
After dinner Frederick allowed himself to be picked up by his security men, who had probably been outside all day in case he would go for a walk again. He had not said when he would see her again, because he did not know.
Anna Margaret spread herself out over the bed that she now had all to herself. Although usually after work she enjoyed not having anyone else in the house, she had been happy to have Frederick there. He was not completely perfect, she was pleased to note - if she thought he was, she would be too much in love to think straight and it was important to her to think straight - because he had never touched a vacuum cleaner before and he had no idea at which rate dust assembled. Cleaning something up once with a towel was clearly not equal to cleaning an entire flat. She had done it alone.
She nevertheless wondered if and when he could move in. The circle of people who knew about them was rapidly expanding and sooner or later someone would make it public. Although the majority of the population considered it a prime minister's private business with whom she or he had a relationship, that was different for the king. If the abdication was really not planned for three months and people found out he had practically been living with her for weeks at some point, they might not appreciate it.
She tried to see how it would be a dereliction of duty. Of course if either of them actually stopped doing their jobs it would be. But what if he continued his engagements properly until the end? Then surely it would not matter where he slept or with whom? It should not matter that he sometimes stayed here, or that she sometimes stayed at the palace. Or would it be more professional to put everything off until after his resignation?
Getting her laptop from the living room, she began to look up some matters. First of all, that abdication could be arranged a lot faster. She sent off an email to the committee. Secondly, she found out that even after abdicating, Frederick would still be a member of the Royal Family. It remained to be seen whether Prince Frederick enjoyed more freedom than King Frederick. But she did not doubt that unlike her he would not have to look these things up. He would already be aware of it and perhaps he would be taking more steps later.
It was rather unthinkable that a member of the Royal Family would be allowed to live in this building. She had been applauded for not living above her means or station, but would it work the other way around?
By accident one of the hits on google was on hot, single royals. She could not stop herself from clicking on it. Thankfully they were only a small country, so he was not at the top of the list, but there he was anyhow. Anna Margaret could not help but notice that most of the young men on the list were not hot at all, but being unmarried and titled seemed to be enough to get them onto the list. The description of Frederick was rather odd. Of course they had to make him sound incredibly attractive, but it was clear they knew nothing about him and that they had probably got him off some other list. The website was three years old, but she could not think he had changed so much.
Some research - about which she felt a little embarrassed - showed her that it was mostly their national media who wanted to make Frederick less uninteresting than he really was. They wanted to have someone to write about, so they created someone to write about. If he had been really active on the socialite front, foreign media would have picked up on it. As it was, she could find very few foreign publications that mentioned him at all and one of those few was that list of hot royals.
There were plenty of photos of him talking to women. The national press, hysterically anxious for a bride, had come up with the most fantastical stories, but by now they seemed to have given up hope. Anna Margaret noticed how he rarely smiled in pictures these days, not even at women. Even the gutter press would have nothing to go on.
She wondered what the progress was with the paternity tests. Most people had temporarily forgotten about the fatherhood claims, but it would all resurface with a vengeance once the abdication plans became known.
She looked up His Majesty's Public Relations Office online and composed an email suggesting how they could go about it, adding that if she was not notified of the results or progress in a week, her own office would do it. They would not like that, she was sure. They would be too afraid the wrong things would be made public if someone else was in charge.
The next morning she was in her office on time. George was late and she teased him. "I've been here for hours!"
"Sorry, there was this delivery van..."
"People on foot can just walk around a delivery van." She knew he came by car and she had often urged him to leave it at home.
"Pfff. Thanks for attending our party, though."
"You're welcome." She hesitated. "Did people...say anything?"
"Most people appreciated your being there, in support of gay marriage and all that, even though you did not represent the government."
"Oh, you know what I mean." Frederick.
"Oh, your friend. Most of the other guests didn't realise you were together. I had to tell my parents and Joël and I asked them to be discreet about it."
"Thank you."
"I only told Joël who he really was."
"Of course, you shouldn't keep secrets from your partner. But do you mean your parents only think he was my new fling?" Of course that required some discretion as well, but not as much.
"Yes."
"Good. I've requested for the abdication to take place sooner than only in three months. Was that really the plan?"
"I'll look into that," he promised." It seems odd anyhow, because that would be in the middle of summer recess and nobody would be here."
"Really?" Anna Margaret had not yet calculated when three months from now would be, but he was absolutely right. She had overlooked that they were rapidly nearing the summer. "No, it definitely should be done before summer recess. It doesn't have to be grand, it just has to be done. Can you get me Princess Isabelle's email or phone number? She needs to be dissuaded from wanting something grand. I don't know if that's what she wants, but just in case."
George said he was on it and left for this own desk. Before Anna Margaret could start on her usual work, someone else arrived.
"Hello Danielle." She could only imagine Danielle had come to speak about the day before and she was cautious. It was too much of a coincidence that she would come so soon after seeing Frederick.
"I don't know how to say this," Danielle began. She seated herself on the corner of Anna Margaret's desk and fiddled with a pen that was lying there. "You know, Lea's pregnant..."
"Yes...?"
"It's just so difficult." Danielle heaved a sigh.
Anna Margaret wished to speed things up. "Why? Is Lea pregnant by your husband?"
That question merely met with a look of confusion. "Huh? No. What?"
"Why is Lea's pregnancy difficult? For her? For you? For me?"
"For me, for me, for me," Danielle clarified hurriedly. "You see..."
Anna Margaret did not, actually. It was too vague to see anything at all. "Er, no?"
"I'd like to get pregnant as well."
"Oh. Er, why talk to me?"
"Because it's not been done before. Our ministers have never got pregnant before. I looked it up last night. How would it be received? The critics were opposed to appointing women in their thirties for exactly this reason and I know it should not stop me, but I do wonder about it. It's 2015, but the number of socially conservative elements around us is pretty large."
"Of course I need to say go ahead with it, in any case. Besides..." She thought for a bit. "It may all be overshadowed by socially progressive developments in the lives of other members of the cabinet."
"What do you mean?"
"We need tea," Anna Margaret decided. "George? Can you get us some tea?" she called to the outer office.
They sat down in the easy chairs in a corner of her room. "What I meant was," she continued. "Other things may happen that may render your pregnancy trivial to anyone but you. Although, yes, we should be prepared. First, though, what they said when we were appointed may not be what they'll say when we - I mean, you - actually get pregnant."
"Just checking, you're not? Not even secretly?"
"No," Anna Margaret said emphatically. "And no plans at present. However, I initially used the plural because do think I ought to be free to become pregnant when it suits me, given that there's no such restriction on men either. Nobody will worry that Patrick will be able to do his job well once he's a father."
"Indeed," Danielle nodded furiously. "And you know what one of my civil servants said to me last year? Danielle, thank goodness you're not the motherly type. I bet no one ever said something of the sort to Patrick. And we're all roughly the same age!"
George arrived with some tea. He set it down and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
"And what are those progressive developments you mentioned?" Danielle asked.
"Ah. I don't know how to put it. I don't know what people will think of it, but it's never been done before either."
That was too confusing to be pursued. "I can't put it off. What if it takes a few years to succeed? I'd be too old and I'd have put it off for the sake of some sexist old farts. But how do you really view it? I didn't know what your reaction would be, really. Maybe you were all for giving priority to one's career."
"It was always irrelevant to me, not having a boyfriend when I was appointed to these jobs. But I'll judge case by case - if I have to judge at all. I don't think I do."
"You know, yesterday I first thought that guy looked familiar because Alex knew him. I thought maybe I'd seen him in a photo or something."
"Alex knew him?"
"Yes, he whispered that he'd studied with him, or so he thought. Then after a few minutes I realised why he looked so familiar to me and why he was called Frederick. I didn't want to look stupid. Either you ask immediately or you don't ask at all, especially if he seems to want it that way, without proper introductions and etiquette and everything. But..." Danielle checked her tea. "I thought he liked you a lot. Did you know?"
It had not yet occurred to Anna Margaret that only one of them had betrayed his feelings. She therefore looked surprised. "Yes, but how do you know?"
"Just the way he talked to you," Danielle shrugged. "But you knew?"
"Danielle, what do you think he was doing there?"
"I don't know. Patrick needed two people for the game? I thought he knew both of you. Do you mean he came with you?"
"Yes."
Danielle looked somewhat incredulous. "It crossed my mind, as a possibility, but I dismissed it. Unless you invited him to come. Like, as a sixth person?"
"Patrick knew I had company."
"You had company."
"Is that very strange?" Anna Margaret was faintly annoyed. It was almost as if she was not nice enough to have company.
"No, no, I suppose not. I'm simply having to readjust my thoughts from oh my god, the king likes Anna Margaret to oh my god, it's probably mutual and what the heck were they doing in her flat?"
"I'm glad the door is closed, because everyone would doubt our ability to run the country."
"But, um," said Danielle over their second cup of tea. "What about those developments you mentioned? Are they related?"
"Yes, I meant that once that leaks out, a minister getting pregnant by her husband might be extremely responsible by sexist old fartish standards."
"That's a relief. But what sort of shocking thing are you going to do?"
"It's completely unshocking by modern standards. Just going to have a boyfriend."
"I heard he was going to resign. Is he giving it up for you?"
"No. But someone will probably think so anyway. I merely sped up the progress. And he's not going to marry me. Would that rate below or above a pregnancy, do you think? Interest-wise?"
"Above, definitely."
"There is a chance that people will say something about how they could have known appointing young women would lead to this. We'll have to prepare a good comeback about old men in France."
"It probably won't happen simultaneously anyway," said Danielle. "We haven't even started trying. But why won't he marry you?"
"Just rebelliousness. I could always try to talk him into it if I felt it added something to my life, but right now I don't think it would. Start trying."
His Majesty's Public Relations Office got back to her and thanked her for her concern. It was only a little better than the automated reply she had received directly after emailing them. She picked up the phone and rang them. It took some work, but she finally got someone on the line who dared to say anything at all and he eventually revealed that action had been taken.
Satisfied, she then called Princess Isabelle. "Your Royal Highness? I called you to discuss the rough date of the inauguration. We really should try and get this done before our summer recess. There seems to have been a memo saying it would be in three months, but that's impossible. I think you should prepare yourself for it to be in about a month." That was the prime minister speaking, of course, and not the woman who was seeing the princess' brother. The prime minister could say these things, because she had to. Other prime ministers might take a little longer to get to the point, though.
"A month? You can't have a dress made in a month."
"I don't need to have a dress made," Anna Margaret replied, knowing full well no one was thinking of a dress for her. She would even get a more subdued dress code than the royals did. Such a dress could be bought anywhere, in one afternoon. She did not need a month.
The princess was silent for a few moments. "Why the hurry?"
"Your brother wants it. Is he less important than your dress?" She glanced at the clock and shoved some papers in her bag with one hand. Then she walked out for an assembly. Talking as she walked meant she might have to censor her words if anyone was near, assuming the princess would not hang up in a huff.
"What will you wear?"
That was a surprising question. Anna Margaret had no idea. "I'll have to check the weather first."
"You can't wear last year's dress."
"I'll have to google what that was," she said as she passed a bunch of interns. No harm done if they heard that. When she was further along, she continued, though not on the bizarre topic of a dress. "But your brother decides on the date. You just have to be ready." The previous times she had been slightly wrong-footed by Isabelle's puzzling behaviour, but now she could be equally decisive.
"You mean you decide on the date."
"Oh, he's not a baby. He can do that himself."
"You said it has to be in about a month."
"Yes, well, he can decide if it's got to be Wednesday, Thursday or something else."
"So he doesn't really get to decide much."
This was tiresome. So much for Princess Perfection. "He wanted out. He didn't say he wanted out next year. We'll have to assume his need is immediate. Please prepare."
There was another call to make when the assembly was suspended for a short break. "Hi, I've arranged a sort of Meet & Greet with you. I knew some people wouldn't let the subject rest, so I told them they could ask you personally. Ten maximum."
"What?" he cried.
"Sorry. I'll be taking down names once I'm out of the loo." Some were probably already waiting. She would rather not tell them she had promised something she could not deliver.
"When? What about, anyway?"
"Those fatherhood claims. Some people just can't let that rest. I said I took control of the matter, but that wasn't enough to reassure them. They seemed impressed that I could let them talk to you." She had thought she could and she now hoped she had not been wrong. She crossed her fingers and prepared to grovel.
"I'm impressed too, because I haven't yet agreed."
"Please. It would help me. I wouldn't be asking otherwise."
"When?"
"When it suits you. If they can't make it, that's their problem."
"Ten's a bit much."
"Two times five then."
"All right. I'll be at your office at four and after that I'll kill you."
"Looking forward to it." She hung up and left the lavatories.
Outside, two men were already waiting. "Were you serious?" one asked.
"I'll note you down then?" She opened the notepad on her phone. "Today at four, my office."
"Today? I can't do today."
"It's today or nothing." She quickly collected ten names. There were more candidates, but she was firm. "Ten's the max. He wouldn't even do ten. You'll just have to ask one of the ten to fill you in."
When the assembly resumed, no one brought up the subject again, or indeed any other subject that was connected to the king. It was a relief to be able to focus on serious matters without all the nonsensical distractions.
At ten to four, Frederick presented himself at her office. He was not even the first, she saw when George opened her door. The Pitbull, known for his endless nagging on trivial subjects, was already there, unable to pass up this chance.
"I'm going to kill her," Frederick said rather loudly to George.
Anna Margaret was less impressed by this than the Pitbull. "You can have my desk. George will provide coffee and tea. I'll stay out there with the second five." She was glad he had not brought a PR person. Presumably they did not know about this visit or they would have interfered. To appease the Pitbull she let him go in already, so Frederick could kill him if he still felt murderous. He probably did - she expected he had only come here because it was the only chance to see her today. He would even suffer annoying questions for it. She would have done that in his place, anyway.
She kept the second five members of parliament with her, after explaining they would be allowed in in shifts. She had chased George out of his chair so she could sit and try to read, which depending on what the parliamentarians did might not even be possible.
"How did you arrange this?" asked one of the waiting men.
"Phone."
"And he agreed?" Seemingly this was incredible.
"He might even have said yes had you requested a private meeting yourself. You never know if you don't try. What are you going to ask?" She was curious if some were going to keep up their bravado. It was one thing to try and unsettle the prime minister with questions about a third person that they knew she really could not answer properly, but another to confront the king.
The man looked at the door behind which five others were now asking questions or listening to explanations. "If he's got any children. Unless someone else asks it first."
There were some nervous chuckles among the others. They belonged to different parties, but they were all united in their excitement here.
"And what exactly do you expect him to say?"
"No, of course. He can't say much else. But I hope he'll give some arguments."
After fifteen minutes the others came out. George carried in fresh pots of tea and coffee as the next batch went in. Anna Margaret noticed how all but one of the first five lingered. The fifth was in a hurry to go somewhere and was probably late for an appointment. "Well?" she asked, especially curious about the Pitbull's opinion.
"I'm satisfied," he said.
"Does that mean you'll stop asking annoying questions?"
"I might."
"Were you interested in the subject or simply curious?" she asked a female parliamentarian who had never displayed any indignation about the king's possible transgressions, as far as she remembered.
"Simply curious," said the woman. "We don't often see him up close, so this was a great opportunity. But it was interesting. He asked the most questions, of course," she said, pointing at the Pitbull. "But the king quickly showed him his place."
"No..." Anna Margaret said. Frederick showing someone his place. She could hardly believe it.
"No," said the Pitbull crabbily.
"It shut you up, didn't it." Apparently there were more people who were annoyed by his incessant nagging.
The Pitbull left. The female parliamentarian shrugged as if it was good that he left. "I had no opinion whatsoever on whether he had bastard children. I just wanted to meet him."
"You're awfully shallow," said one of her two remaining colleagues.
"I know, but at least I don't make up excuses. Although he did look at me funnily when I was asked for my problems and I said I had none."
"Did you get his autograph? Too bad you didn't get a selfie with him."
The woman sighed. "Indeed. I'd best get back to work."
The two men left with her and Anna Margaret tried to read some more. George returned with two men who had been waiting outside in the corridor. One of them was Chris.
"Keeping the boy on a tight leash now?" she asked him.
He merely smiled. "I figured it might be useful to get a better impression of what is occupying him these days."
"In other words, you need to assess whether I have dangerous habits."
"Something like that. After all, you say jump and he jumps."
She could hear the phone inside her office ring and she jumped up herself. After three rings it would automatically be forwarded to George's phone. It rang twice and then it stopped. This was puzzling. Although there were people there, nobody would have picked it up. Perhaps it should be reprogrammed.
It took a while before this batch of MPs came out. They looked as if they had had a cosy chat. Frederick followed them. He looked over the heads of the two women in front of him and addressed Anna Margaret. "Your father phoned."
"Was that really the phone?"
"Yes."
"You should have let it ring three times and it would have been forwarded automatically."
"How was I to know? I very politely answered with 'Prime Minister's Office, how may I help you?'"
"Thank you. I'm sure he'll call again." But she noticed that everyone remained around them, looking expectant. "He didn't hang up?" She quickly tried to assess what this meant. He still sounded casual, but his eyes conveyed something else.
"Your father? Hang up? When he believes he's talking to the cleaner or some other low government life form?"
She turned red. "Oh no."
"He didn't believe I had permission to be there. Maybe I should have called you in, but every time I thought that I had now finally said the thing that would have him hang up, he still didn't."
Anna Margaret thought that giving in to her embarrassment would not really look good. She tried to remain calm and dignified. "I'm sorry. I think I can guess what he's about. I'll have to speak to him."
"Everyone now knows what he's about. I put him on the speaker. Well, I'm late for something. It was a pleasure." He nodded at Chris that he was ready to leave and walked out.
"Well..." she said, staring after him. Of course he could not stay for a chat while there were other people there, but this was very abrupt. Perhaps he was angry she had forced him to come here. Or the chats had not been pleasant.
One of the women stood beside her. "It was not as bad as it sounded. His Majesty accidentally put him on the speaker when he tried to forward the call. Your father insisted on speaking to you and the king insisted you weren't there, but that he would write down a message."
"Well, I'll just go and check if he wrote anything down then. I hope you found the session satisfactory," she said, trying to address them all at once.
"Certainly," said one of the men and the others nodded their agreement. "Thank you for the opportunity."
Anna Margaret held back the woman when she made to leave. "Sarah, I need to ask you something." She hoped her father had not let slip why he needed to speak to her, but to low government life forms he probably would not. First something else, however. "I hope he was not too rude? I'll need to change my phone number if he was, because it would really be unacceptable if he treated my staff rudely, or people he perceived to be my staff."
Sarah hesitated.
"He was, was he?"
"Let me just say I would have hung up on him."
"He does tend to pull rank, I know." Anna Margaret sighed. "I'll have my number changed, so he can only call me at home. But since they don't have my mobile number and I often don't answer the phone at home... I'll have to apologise to the king. He was already not pleased about coming here, I think."
"Oh, actually he was merely pulling faces at the phone and replying ridiculous things."
Anna Margaret stared.
"Yes, he seemed to like that a lot better than talking about women. I noticed he spoke a lot more easily afterwards anyway. Personally I think he could have taken action much sooner with regard to those claims, but he said everyone with half a brain could have known the stories weren't true."
"Well, I've had to ask him about it too and I have more than half a brain."
"And apparently his advisers think silence makes it all go away."
"Yes, he told me that as well. But thanks."
She saw Sarah out of the office and returned to her desk. There was no note there, so she assumed her father had not said anything worth passing on. Because he would almost certainly bother her just when she had delved into the documents on her desk, she called him. "I was told you called," she began rather coolly.
"I'm surprised that impertinent fellow actually passed the message on. What happened to your regular staff?"
"Listen, I'm going to have to change my number. I can't have you be rude to people who work here. If you can't behave, you can't phone." She was annoyed, or she would never have dared to say that to her father. Hopefully it was possible to have the number changed, or it would be a very empty threat.
"You can't be serious."
"Well, I'm sorry. If you are rude to members of my staff, I'm simply going to have to make it impossible for you to call here."
"I wasn't rude. I simply told this person he had no business being at your desk."
"And why not? I put him there. It's my office; I decide who sits where. But what did you want to speak to me about?" She had better ask for it directly, or it might take long. He would have a lot to say on how her staff should behave. While she was curious, she could not allow him to think he had been right.
"I heard some disturbing things from your mother. It seems you would consider having children by an unemployed man?"
Anna Margaret could only be pleasantly surprised by not immediately being thought pregnant already. True, there had been little evidence to go on, but some people did not care. Sometimes she thought her mother had missed out on a brilliant career at a tabloid for all the unfounded conclusions she jumped to. "I would?"
"It would be a very bad idea. Look, I met someone on the golf course the other day. Maybe you should meet him." Her father's tone had changed ever so subtly.
But not enough to fool her. "Meet him?" she laughed incredulously. "Thanks for trying to help, which I suppose is how I should view it, but I have completely different tastes. There's no need to set me up." It was even worse than she had thought.
"Your tastes, yes, but if you'd consider marrying someone without a job, then maybe you shouldn't really let your tastes guide you."
"Marriage is not a necessity for me, actually." A wedding would be highly embarrassing at the moment. She suspected it would be rather too much about her father. This seemed to get steadily worse as he grew older, or perhaps she simply noticed it more often.
"He's coming to dinner tonight."
"I'm working, but even if I wasn't working -" She thought again. Avoidance would not help. Then again, mentioning a boyfriend would not either. They would simply assume she would get rid of him once someone more suitable came along. "Even if I wasn't working, I wouldn't be interested. I hope you haven't given him any ideas."
The sessions with Frederick and then calling her father had cost her about forty-five minutes. It would be a long day again. A swim would be nice to clear her head, but that would leave very little time for dinner - as usual.
On Tuesday, nothing remarkable happened. On Wednesday, the prime minister was meeting the king. She made sure she was a little early, so they would have more time. Apart from the very first time, she had never been this nervous about meeting him. She had been introduced before he became the king, although she could not remember where, but that had only been brief. Only after his father's death had he actually spoken to her. Consequently, she had not known what he would be like that first time she had gone here after his father's death.
She had never wondered if perhaps he had been the more nervous one. These people were not nervous, she had always believed. They were trained to do this from an early age. Only now did she realise he had probably not at all been at ease, being so suddenly thrust into the position he did not want.
Frederick was not early himself, which was disappointing, but it was even worse when Princess Isabelle arrived first. "Are you meeting him here?" Isabelle inquired.
"Well, if you are claiming this room for yourself, Your Royal Highness, I suppose we are not. But the place is large enough. There should be plenty of alternatives that are more comfortable," she replied airily, eyeing the antique chairs. They would not hold two people. Not that she had plans to try that, but Princess Isabelle might think so.
"Do you always wear trousers?"
"I try to. They're more comfortable." And they had a few other advantages as well, naturally.
"What do you think you are doing?" Frederick inquired brusquely when he arrived.
"Nothing," said his sister.
"Please go and do nothing somewhere else."
"But you can't -"
"Can't what?" He pointed at the door.
Isabelle gave him a disbelieving look, but she left nevertheless.
He closed the door behind her. "Not sure why she felt we needed chaperoning, but I certainly don't need it. We're at work. Next month you could hop over to my apartment for lunch after work, but not yet."
Anna Margaret was torn between feeling pleased he had sent his sister away and disappointed - against her better judgement - that apparently there was no room for a little relaxing. "The weather is so lovely, could we sit outside somewhere? Nobody could even think we were up to something, because they could all see it. If we're behind closed doors they'll all be listening at the door."
"Outside?" He looked as if sitting outside was an incredibly strange, but very appealing idea. "I suppose. But first - I have not kissed you for three days."
"Mmm," she responded. "Sorry about Monday. There were far too many people to talk properly. I hope you weren't angry."
"I tried to be."
"I'm sorry." She hugged him a little closer and was resolved not to spring any more of these annoying surprises on him. It would not be fair.
After these needs were satisfied, he led her out of the door back to the courtyard. They crossed over to the sunny part and he opened a door. "Wait here. I'll get some chairs."
She wondered what to expect. Those antique chairs were heavy. He appeared with two modern-looking ones, however, that were almost certainly usually used by staff and not by the family or their visitors.
"I've asked for a table, too. They wouldn't let me carry that myself."
Shortly afterwards two men brought a table, set it down and went away again. From another door someone appeared with a tray of drinks. It was the same tray that had been sitting on the table in the room they were supposed to meet in. Anna Margaret was not aware of having seen anyone on their way out. How could anyone possibly know where they had gone, or that they were even gone at all? "No movement is secret here, is it? Does that mean everyone knows where I was last week?"
"No, I doubt it. I took you in through the family wing. There are fewer eyes there. Here, there are hundreds of eyes. The public wing is open this morning as well."
"And you tell me only now," she said in dismay. The sun was too pleasant to move. She would also not ask anyone to drag the table and chairs back inside so soon. But it might be why they were here and not in the garden - on display on purpose. "Where is it?"
He nodded at one part of the palace. "The public can see us, if they think of looking out of the window at all."
"That's directly across from your front door," she observed.
"They didn't see us. The public wing closes at twelve. Thank you," he said to the woman who set down the tray. He picked up the top document.
They could not have been seen by the public then that day. That was a relief. She forced herself to think of work as well.
"They're lovely, aren't they, those tourists?" Frederick asked when he checked his phone after they had worked through the pile of documents. "They saw us. Palace staff working in the sun. Wow, so relaxed in this country! Isn't that nice?"
"What are you doing?"
"Checking Twitter, of course. I look like palace staff." He examined his short-sleeved shirt. "That must be why."
"Are you addicted to Twitter?"
"No, I check it now and then to track my unpopularity."
"You're not unpopular - I think." She did not want him to be.
"Thanks, that's very kind of you, but my public appearances leave a lot to be desired. And now I'm going to wait for the first clued-in visitor. Although they don't have to be on Twitter, of course."
"That's such a waste of time."
"I know, we employ a social media person to read and post. As do you. Things are being twittered in your name, but they're never about me, so it can't be you." He took a picture of her with his phone, fiddled with it for a bit and then said, "there. My official account may now use it."
"You didn't even ask me to approve of the picture!"
"I didn't think you'd want it deleted." He showed it to her.
"It's okay, I suppose," she admitted grudgingly. "And it does look as if I'm reading and not simply sitting in the sun. Now that we've worked through the documents, what about the rest of the news? Have you been informed of any progress with regard to the paternity claims?"
"No. What about Italy?" he asked.
"They're still looking into that, would you believe it? Everything is taking so long. And then there's the abdication. Your sister seems to be worrying about her dress. One month is too short to have one made?"
"She has plenty of dresses."
"Perhaps she means the queen needs a special sort of dress for the inauguration. The three who went before her were all men. They would have worn something else."
"A mantle over clothes. If I didn't have to wear a special suit, she doesn't have to wear a special dress."
"I forgot I'm talking to the expert here," she remarked. "I had to wear a dress with long sleeves, but your sister is afraid I may wear the same one. Probably not; I had borrowed it."
"It was a nice dress," he said, looking at his phone.
"Do you remember or did you just look it up?"
"Both."
"I'm chairman of the committee, but they have been operating without me so far. If we have just one month, I'll need to be more involved. We can only officially appoint a committee after your speech, though. We don't want there to be rumours beforehand. You have to make the announcement, not the press."
"Noted. They're working on the speech."
"When it's done, you'll go on TV?"
"Not alone!" he said immediately.
"Tell them to hurry. The committee has started preparations in secret, but there's a lot to plan. They will be officially appointed the morning after your speech."
"Surely if I died they would manage with even less time?"
"If there's no death involved, there's no need to be sober and restrained."
"Oh yeah, let's celebrate that I stepped down," Frederick said humorously. "There's actually less to plan - no funeral and all the logistics that come with it. There's only the signing of the document that is extra and far fewer people need to be present for that. We also don't have to drive around town for it, so no roads need to be cleared. Or not as many, in any case."
"True." She gathered up her papers. "Darling, I'm sorry, but I should move on. I have a new road to inspect after lunch."
"Don't they have someone else for that? Some minister?"
"Yes, we're going together. It's a very important road, since we paid for it and mostly Germans will drive over it, but of course they haven't yet contributed a cent. So the more important people who've seen the awesomeness of this road who may beg the Germans, the better. When er..." She did not really know how to ask.
He understood it anyway. "My sister has another barbecue tomorrow evening. I must attend."
"Is that every Thursday or what?"
"Every Thursday I'm supposed to reward subjects with a dinner invitation, but Isabelle usually takes care of that. I just sit there. Or stand there, in the case of a barbecue. She has a list. She has lists for everything."
"My father seems to be compiling a list now," she said. Although she was already standing, she was unable to get away. "Of suitable men he met on the golf course."
"Oh, is that why he called?"
"Yes. I wasn't interested." She took a step back. "I should go. No, wait. I still have to ask you what you said to him when he phoned."
"Didn't one of the politicians tell you?"
"No, not much. One summarised it as ridiculous things." She was curious and hoped he would elaborate now.
"Yes, well, frankly I couldn't make much else of it. He refused to accept that you weren't there and that I wasn't responding the way your staff apparently do. I asked if I could take a message, but he said he could not entrust this message to me. I suggested he code it, so I would not understand but you would."
"Code!"
"Yes, that's what he said too. I attempted to explain the concept of coding, but it didn't get through. It was a really clever idea, but he did not seem to go for it. I even explained how some codes worked. Or I tried to. He merely got angry with me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I didn't take it personally."
"What did the other people think?" She cringed.
"That your father can be quite annoying, probably. The easiest thing would have been simply to call you into the room, but I didn't feel he deserved that. Are you going to tell him who I was?"
"No. What about the rest of the meetings? Were people's questions all right?"
"Let's just say they could have been worse."
When Anna Margaret was being driven to the new motorway with Danielle, who was currently dealing with transport and infrastructure, she tried to check Twitter. "How do you look something up on Twitter? There are photos of me on it."
Danielle showed her where and she showed Danielle the palace staff photo. Whoever managed the king's official account had picked up on the photo and retweeted it. It had met with the usual broad range of reactions, as did the photo of her that the official account had also added.
"Not everyone likes my sitting in the sun," she commented. "They say I should get off my arse and start getting their money back. How would I be more capable of doing that standing up, I wonder? Because this weekly meeting is part of my job. And who has their money, do they think?"
"Greece, the EU, Africa, bankers..." Danielle summed up. "Megalomaniac infrastructure projects only benefitting Germans... But we are hard at work right now. We're trying to get that money back from those Germans. And anyway, Germans driving over it will spend money, too. When we get there we should take a picture of ourselves working extremely hard. With safety vests on."
"We should." She scrolled through posts trying to find if anyone had spotted a romantic development, but that still seemed to be a bridge too far. "Oh, here's someone who loves how simple he is."
"What a nice compliment."
"Because he sits in a normal chair. Well, did this person imagine we'd drag the throne outside? I shouldn't be looking at this. It makes me want to reply." She put her phone away.
Intriguingly, on Thursday she was again invited to a barbecue by Princess Isabelle. This time the invitation was not delivered in person, but on a fancy card by a courier. Anna Margaret shook her head at the waste of money and man hours. She was not a simple citizen who was going to be impressed by an elegant card. It would not affect her decision to accept the invitation at all. That was not what decided the matter. Did Isabelle want a reprise in which she did not get sick? Or had Frederick asked her to send this invitation?
She put it aside, to make up her mind later. There were things to do. His Majesty's Public Relations Office had sent her a message that one of the magazines was to publish a rectification and apology, because one of the women had admitted to have been lying. That left two more women, but she did not know in which magazines their stories had been published. If they had been contacted as well, they too might choose to retract their story before a DNA test proved they had been lying. But she did not know how stupid and greedy minds worked.
"Well, that was easy, wasn't it?" she said for the benefit of whoever had not wanted to take action before.
The rest of the morning was devoted to her regular work. Not all of it was related to her private life these days, for which she was glad. Towards the end of the afternoon she began to wonder if she should go to the barbecue. When it turned 17:30, she decided she would go and consider it work time. Hopefully she would get enough time to speak to the princess about the upcoming events.
Leaving the building, however, she had forgotten to reckon with the group of reporters who usually hung about waiting for a quote. Contrary to her predecessors, she did not appear on television for a weekly chat. Those sessions had always been too much about older men interviewing older men and she had not felt as if she belonged in such a setting. And contrary to her, none of her predecessors would regularly take the time to answer questions on the front steps. So she supposed it all evened out.
"Listen, guys," she said, since most of them were men. "I have to go to a dinner party. Don't keep me long." It usually worked - if she gave them some of her time, they were reasonable to her.
It was nevertheless close to six when she hurried to her flat. She changed her blouse, packed some things into her work bag in case she was going to stay the night, and then she set off for the Palace. On her walk she wondered if she was indeed staying. It was a bit presumptuous to think she might be if there was no need, but she had to be prepared in any case.
They knew her at the front gates by now and they were opened before she was even there. Not too long, of course, because no one else should slip in. Usually they assumed she knew the way, but last week she had not known where the barbecue would be held and she had asked. Today she assumed it was in the same place, so she could simply walk there and present herself. The other guests would have arrived by car and they would have been met in the courtyard.
Surprisingly a member of the staff was there to meet her. Apparently the guards at the gate had thought for themselves and guessed where she was heading. Perhaps Frederick would just have got the sausages ready - if he was there at all - and he could serve them to her, she mused as she followed the butler.
The butler took her to Princess Isabelle. "How lovely that you could make it," said the princess.
"I was hoping we could discuss certain things later, Your Highness," Anna Margaret replied. "It would save me some time to do it now." She tried to keep her eyes from wandering over the other guests.
"I'm sure that could be arranged." She gestured at an empty table. "Have a seat. I'll get you some wine. Red or white?"
"Actually I'd prefer some juice, please. Any kind." The week before wine on a nearly empty stomach had not gone down well. She would rather not have it happen again. Of course the same might happen with apple or orange juice and her stomach was less empty today, but she did not want to risk it.
Before Princess Isabelle could return with a drink, however, her prospected seat was taken by an older woman, whom Anna Margaret suspected to be Princess Agnes, Frederick's aunt. She was not so familiar with them as to recognise each member of the family directly. The look on this lady's face, however, tallied with the bossy genes she was said to have inherited.
"Good evening, Madam Prime Minister," said the older princess. "You are here again. And you've brought a bag this time."
The way the princess eyed the bag almost made her want to snort in incredulity. Could it be that Frederick's aunt would actually like a peek into it? But since her few toiletries and bra and underwear were safely hidden away in a secret side pocket, Anna Margaret did not mind pretending to be completely unaware of the shameless curiosity. She zipped her bag open and made sure the collection of files and documents was amply visible while she took out a notebook. What a disappointment - no pyjamas and no toothbrush in view. "Yes, Your Highness, you know it's far too early to stop working already. I'll read this while I wait."
"Have you come to speak with my nephew?"
"Your niece actually." She did not know how many of the family had been informed of Frederick's plans and consequently why she would have professional reasons to speak to Princess Isabelle.
"You must have heard he intends to abdicate."
"I had heard, yes." She had looked around a little by now and Frederick did not seem to be present. That was a disappointment, although she consoled herself with the fact that he would undoubtedly sleep here - unless he went to her flat. But she hoped he would not do that, considering that he had been the first to say where he would be tonight.
"And what do you think?"
"His life. He decides."
"They will misunderstand him."
Anna Margaret shrugged. Undoubtedly someone would, no matter how many explanations were offered. And if he did not particularly care what people thought of him, she should not either. She watched as Princess Isabelle came nearer with her drink.
Isabelle set down the glasses and pulled up another chair. "We'll have to talk business, Aunt Agnes."
Princess Agnes made no move to leave. "I love business."
Anna Margaret had her notebook ready. "You will, I assume, take care of inviting the guests? Again?" She had not wondered last year, having assumed that Frederick did this, perhaps together with his relatives, but now she realised he might not have done much at all. "The location was said to have 1700 places, but due to using other chairs than when your father was inaugurated, we noticed last year that this takes up rather too much space. You could invite the same number; we'll simply have to cut down on the number of ordinary citizens."
"Why exactly do we have to hurry?"
"Our summer recess. Most of the ones who have to sign the abdication document will not be there - unless you want them to cancel their family holidays?" Of course they would have to be called back if someone died, like last year, but if it could be avoided, it should. "It's easier to do it simply before everyone leaves."
"What about after the summer recess?"
"I think Frederick will become a problem if you do. He won't be contained anymore."
"And by this you mean..." Isabelle did not know.
Princess Agnes leant forward. "I know how he gets out," she offered conspiratorially. "The same way I got out when I was young."
"Out of what?" Her niece still did not know.
"Out of the building. I'm not telling you how, though, just in case I need to use that route again to visit a suitor."
Princess Isabelle's eyes bulged.
"You cannot keep him in until after the summer," Anna Margaret continued. She did not care about Princess Agnes' fictional suitors, nor was she shocked by them. "He will try to go out."
Isabelle dragged her mind back to her brother. "Yes, he would, I suppose," she said slowly. "We may have to move the attraction elsewhere."
"We'll discuss that later. I'd like to know first whether you'd want a plain inauguration or some degree of organised festivities? Mind you, there wouldn't be a lot of time to organise much. Although you could postpone this until after the summer when you might tour the country to meet everyone."
"Frederick had no festivities, obviously, due to my father's death, but he did not tour the country either."
"No, I stole that idea from one of your colleagues abroad." When she had read about it, she thought Isabelle would actually not mind doing it, but that it would indeed not have been Frederick's cup of tea. "I think it sounds good. It will give every town or region you plan on visiting enough time to prepare some kind of celebration, especially if you start your tour after the summer."
"Going to the people," Isabelle mused. "That sounds good."
"I'll have a subcommittee set up." Anna Margaret noted this down, reflecting on how ironic it was that Frederick went to the people nowadays without the people knowing about it. "Very good. If we can postpone the celebrations we'll have less to plan. Is there anything you'd like to do with your out of town guests?"
"Last year we had a dinner party to keep them busy at night. I'll have to see if that could be arranged."
"Probably. You had less time last year." She drank some of her fruit juice.
"True."
"In the case of a living abdicator, what happens with him? I suppose he attends the inauguration since he's not dead, but what about the dinner?"
"If he wants to. He might as well, because knows all those people. He'll be among equals." Princess Isabelle hesitated as she thought it over. "People will think the relationship between us is damaged if he does not come. But...the dinner party would be here and as long as the media are offered a clear view of the arrivals, they needn't know what goes on inside exactly. And obviously Frederick would not arrive by car, so he wouldn't get seen anyway."
"Where is he now, by the way?"
"He went rowing," said his sister. "In Germany. He was supposed to have been here by now."
"Oh." Anna Margaret looked at her notes to see if she needed to discuss anything else. She would like to know why he went rowing in Germany.
"Oh, there you are," said Isabelle. "But really, couldn't you have got dressed?"
Anna Margaret felt a hand lightly brush her shoulder. She looked aside to see if he was dressed at all, which he would be, but simply not by his sister's standards. Tracksuit.
"I could have," Frederick agreed. "But I hadn't brought any other clothes. Would anyone here really care?"
"I've got two ambassadors and their partners, two ladies from the Countrywomen's Association, two -"
"You invite them all in twos?" he interrupted.
"You've forgotten to do your hair, dear Freddie," said Princess Agnes.
He ran a hand through it. "Nobody does their hair on the rowing course." He walked off to the table with the drinks.
Anna Margaret tried to finish the business before she started eating. "Could you provide me with dates that both you and Frederick will be free or at the most have engagements that could easily be cancelled? Three to four weeks from now. Our side will adapt."
"Yes, I'll have my secretary look into that."
"And how is the speech coming along?"
"Yes, yes, the speech. I couldn't get a clear answer on why you were there." Isabelle looked at her inquiringly.
"I suppose because there was no clear answer to give. The morning after the speech the committee will be officially appointed and we can start making more public arrangements. It would be nice to know when the speech will be, so I can inform them."
"Yes, I realise that. Maybe Sunday."
"Sunday." Anna Margaret noted it down. She could warn the other members of the committee tomorrow. That would give them some time to plan for a meeting on Monday. "Great. Are you still in it together?"
"I'm afraid he cannot fill five minutes on his own. Well, not about this anyway. So, yes. I am there to provide some verbal padding."
"Great. This saves me a lot of time phoning or going to your offices." She closed her notebook and stood up. "But I don't want to monopolise you any longer. You have other guests."
"Thank you," said Princess Isabelle, who finished her drink.
Anna Margaret wandered off to the salads. They looked so good that one did not really need anything else. From the corner of her eye she saw someone come in her direction, but it was not Frederick and so she did not turn.
She scooped some salad onto a plate.
Frederick approached her. "One of the ambassadors is wondering who on earth I am. I can tell."
"Well, you're not really dressed for the occasion."
"I didn't have the time," he said, stealing a piece of cucumber from her plate. "I've just had a drink. I was thirsty and I needed to see who were here."
"And now?" She was curious if he was going to stay in his tracksuit this time. He had not yet been ordered to change, as far as she knew, unless that had just happened.
He turned to her, his eyes sparkling. "I'd like to place an order for eight chicken sticks while I go and change."
"Eight chicken sticks," she repeated. "And you want me to take care of that?"
"Please."
"Well...er...all right." She was still a little bemused when he had gone. They would not all be for himself, she expected. She lifted eight chicken sticks off the meat trays and placed them on a barbecue.
There, she chatted a bit with an ambassador until Frederick would return. She hoped he would be back before the chicken was ready and tried to calculate how long he would need to walk, change and walk back. He came back before it was ready, but he did not join her. Apparently he first had to walk around and greet people. She had not seen him do that the previous week, but she had been late then, and she could not help but think that he did not seem to be as bad at it as he appeared to feel.
When the chicken sticks were ready, she took four plates and piled them on the top one. This way she was prepared for any eventualities.
"How many would you like?" she asked him.
"Two."
She gave him a plate and let him roll two sticks onto it. "Who are the other six for?" She could guess, though. Some would be for the older women.
"Two for you, two for my mother, two for my aunt. Will you go and deliver them?" Frederick smiled sweetly.
"Me." She had not expected that. She had imagined he would take six and hand them out himself.
"Yes."
She left her chicken sticks on his plate and carried the others to the table where Princess Agnes was sitting. It was still the same table, but she now had different company. Frederick's mother sat with her. There were two more glasses and chairs, but their owners were presumably away to get something to eat.
"Your Highness," Anna Margaret addressed Frederick's aunt, since she had already spoken to her before. She did not actually know what etiquette dictated with regard to the former queen, but since the woman was not looking at her she could be safely ignored, she felt. "Could I interest you in two chicken sticks?"
"That would be nice. I saw you talk to my nephew. Was this his idea?"
"It was."
"Is he avoiding us himself? Afraid we'll question him?"
"You'd have to ask him that." Anna Margaret placed two sticks on a plate and set it before Princess Agnes. The other plate she set before Queen Anna, who was still known as such.
"You don't seem to be afraid of being questioned." That was still Princess Agnes, of course. Queen Anna had not yet said a word, although she had by now looked up.
Anna Margaret raised her eyebrows. "Should I be?"
"One of my informants told me you have enough power to summon him to your office to answer nosy questions from MPs."
"Yes and so I should. The prime minister can be held accountable for his behaviour. But what did your informant tell you?" She was surprised that the princess had informants, or people she called as such.
"My informant was among the happy few."
Anna Margaret mentally reviewed the ten. She could not think who it was. One of the older ones, who had had ample time to become acquainted with Princess Agnes at some point? Or one of the younger ones, who might still be impressed by her? "I hope your informant was satisfied."
"Not entirely, because my informant is now confused about His Majesty's actual personality."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I was asked if what my informant saw corresponded with my image of him or if I thought you had arranged for an actor to play His Majesty," Princess Agnes said gravely.
Anna Margaret's mouth nearly fell open. "Nobody seemed to be in doubt." And the notion of having arranged an actor to play Frederick was simply ludicrous. Her life was becoming crazier by the minute.
"Nobody would admit to it in company," said Princess Agnes.
"Nobody would admit to thinking it was an actor, you mean, or do you actually mean I would not admit to having hired an actor?"
"The former, of course."
"May I ask why you have informants in the first place?" Who were they and of what did they inform her? And why? She had been the previous king's sister only. There was no real need for her to know anything.
"Well, I couldn't call them acquaintances," Princess Agnes said as if this ought to be perfectly clear and understandable.
"And did you remove your informant's doubt? Or did you actually let him or her think I would hire an actor?" To be honest, not much in this family would surprise her. Although in Italy she had thought Frederick was insane, he was in fact the sanest and most comprehensible of the lot.
"He or she was surprised that the image he or she had got from the media was more than a little incorrect."
"Really? How?" she asked, as if she had not googled Frederick herself the other day.
"Well, now, my informant thought him sharper than he is usually described."
"Clearly, your informant wasn't very sharp if he or she thought the best explanation for that was that it must have been an actor, and not the media getting it wrong."
"I suppose it's easier to arrange for an actor to visit your office than a king. How did you manage?"
That was easy. "I phoned him."
"And why would he do what you say?"
"Because I asked him."
"Well, yes," Princess Agnes said dismissively. "He nearly always does what you tell him to do, or he pretends to, but my informant doesn't know that, of course. But what are you eating?"
"I had some salad."
Princess Agnes looked disapproving. "Salads are for rabbits, young lady. Meat is good for you. But you're not a vegetarian; you do eat meat. I was told last week that you ate meat. My nephew wouldn't give us any sausages because you wanted them."
"Last week I felt sick. I didn't eat anything."
"Sick. Hmm. I bet you hadn't eaten enough. Young women never do, but let me tell you, you can't live on salads. But yes, we know you didn't eat them after all, because we got them in the end. I knew something must have happened, because I doubted Frederick would have taken them from you after you had commandeered them."
She was still standing by their table and did not feel like saying she was not the one who commandeered things. "It was the jetlag."
"Right. Yes, of course, jetlag. But where did you go when you felt sick?"
"I didn't pay attention. I was trying not to throw up." And now she really had to get out of there. "But I'll take your advice, Your Highness, and see if I can get some meat."
"Yes, you do that, young lady, because remember that women who eat lots of salads with have babies with rabbit teeth."
"I can't have any," she said, lowering her voice in a confidential manner and trusting she would not be asked for the reason. It was surprisingly prosaic.
Princess Agnes leant forwards. "Does your mother know?"
"I have no idea, because what I say is not always what she hears." But she wondered why her mother was mentioned. Had the ladies spoken to each other the week before?
Queen Anna said something for the first time, but it was in German, her native language. Anna Margaret understood German well enough, but not when it was whispered. She turned to leave them, but Frederick was behind her. He held out her plate.
"Yes, thank you. I must eat meat, you see. Your aunt says so. I must sit somewhere," she said. "Any free spots?" Preferably not here, she added silently.
"There?" he pointed.
She sat down with two middle-aged women who introduced themselves as belonging to the Countrywomen's Association. That, at least, provided an opening for conversation, because she had no idea what they actually did. In the end she had given them a vague promise to speak at one of their events some time and they were extremely pleased with her.
Frederick, in the meantime, had spoken to men and women she did not know. No matter how much he would like to escape, he was managing fine. Of course he might not want to escape from a barbecue, but rather from ribbon-cutting and speeches.
The guests had left one by one - or two by two - and Frederick waited until they were all gone. Then he turned to Anna Margaret, who had been waiting for him to say anything at all about staying. She had read something as she waited, trying not to wonder what others might be thinking of her. They might think it was easier for her simply to go home and read there, or that she was extremely unsocial. Of course Frederick's mother and aunt were quite near, so he might not be able to say everything he wanted.
"Shall I walk you to..."
She was on her feet before he could finish. Yes, she was so ready to be walked somewhere. "Have a good evening, all of you," she said pleasantly to those who remained.
Inside, she took his hand. "Where are you taking me?"
"Want to stay?"
"I'm embarrassed to admit that I came prepared."
"Good." Frederick led her through the same maze of halls and corridors as the week before to end up at the foot of his staircase.
"Have you got pyjamas for me? I couldn't fit any unnoticeably in my bag."
"Of course."
"So what are your relatives now thinking?" she asked as they climbed the stairs.
"We'll find out tomorrow. They're undoubtedly discussing it at the moment, but there's no other way I could have taken you here. But they know I'm serious."
Her heart made a jump. "Oh?"
"They would never speak to you otherwise."
"They...well, your aunt does. Your mother hasn't said a word. And your aunt, I don't know what she thinks. She keeps saying peculiar things. That I'd have babies with rabbit teeth if I ate only salads and things like that. It's difficult to know what she's about, because that's not something that someone could seriously think, so there must be another purpose that I'm not seeing."
"She was probably hoping you'd reveal something. She was more direct with me when you went to sit somewhere else."
She had not noticed that. "How direct?"
"She asked me if you were pregnant."
Anna Margaret raised her eyebrows. That was certainly direct. "So she did not even have to ask if we were an item?"
"What I said would answer both questions in one go, she assumed."
"What did you say?"
"I said I didn't think that likely."
"And then what?"
"My mother interfered." He sounded surprised by it himself. "She actually did. I don't know what else she said, because I went away."
In the morning they had breakfast together and then left for their respective workdays. Thanks to Frederick's habit of rising early and working out in some cellar, it was not too early when she left through the staff entrance. Most people were going the other way, but at least no one was paying attention. She had agreed with Frederick that this weekend she would stay with him, except for the moments he would be doing his speech. He had said it would possibly be on Sunday evening and that a crew would come over.
"Hello?" said someone in a low voice.
She turned. "Hello?"
"We met on the motorway in France? I wonder if you remember?"
"Er...yes. Yes, I do. What a coincidence to see you here."
"Oh, well, not really. I have been walking this way in the hopes of catching a glimpse of him to see if I was right, which is stupid, because no one ever catches a glimpse, do they?"
Anna Margaret knew it was a bad habit to cut people short, but she could not help it. "Right about what?"
"That the man you were with in France was in fact King Frederick. After we got home and I read the newspapers, I realised what you'd been doing. It must have been embarrassing, really, to come across people who thought you were a couple. And I realised that you actually never confirmed that you were, but that we simply kept assuming it."
Anna Margaret managed a weak smile. How was she going to handle this? For a few moments she was at a loss. "Er...well...for security reasons, er..." But how did those security reasons explain anything? She could see them covering a lot, actually.
"Oh, I understand. No one knew. He was lovely, though."
"And why exactly did you think he must be the king?" She had to ask. Had it been so obvious? "Who was in Italy and not in France?"
"From the media I gathered you were hurrying home, but when we saw you, you were not really hurrying. I thought you were edgy because of a new boyfriend, but afterwards it made more sense to think you'd been edgy because you needed to be hurrying. Besides, someone driving from Italy could well be there at around that time."
"I cannot tell you who this man was." Her tone was friendly, however, and conveyed that it was more a matter of her not being allowed to tell, than the woman not being allowed to know.
"But is this a Palace building or government?"
"Palace." That would be telling enough, she was tempted to think. Because why else would she come out of a Palace side building so early in the morning? They walked on. "Which way are you walking?"
The woman pointed. "That way. I'm attending a course there. This is only a slight detour. I have to say, your friend was lovely and seemed to be enjoying the trip."
Anna Margaret smiled involuntarily as she recalled the relaxed Frederick enjoying the coffee sitting on a blanket. "At a very bad moment. But you're right - he would have happily driven through Europe for another few weeks."
Seemingly Frederick could still do no wrong in the woman's eyes. "How lovely."
"Was he lovely because he had ideas on gender equality and sugar?" She had always wondered.
"Oh, no. He was very pleasant and intelligent."
"I have to turn left here," Anna Margaret announced. She almost regretted having to end the conversation about her pleasant and intelligent friend. "Enjoy your course. It was nice meeting you again."
The woman wished her all the best
She frowned as she walked on. She tempted to think she had not revealed too much to someone who already seemed to know, but still. It would not have been kind of her to say nothing at all to a friendly lady with whom they had conversed agreeably, however. Hopefully she had come to a good compromise.
In the evening she first went home. All this trekking back and forth might at some point get noticed. She was well aware of that. But leaving her apartment building unobtrusively and entering the Palace unobtrusively ideally required a change of clothes midway. Entering the Palace on a Friday night was especially difficult. Her usual point of entry was definitely out of the question. For some reason there was a small crowd, not entirely composed of tourists. Some people stopped, asked a question and then walked on. Anna Margaret, pausing some distance away, did not think there was anything immediate or acutely interesting the crowd was waiting for, but since she spotted two or three people with large cameras, she deduced that she would have to find another way in.
Staying away from the people with the cameras, she moved to the edge of the crowd. "What's the matter here?" she asked someone who might not take a too good look at her. She was wearing shorts and sunglasses and nobody would wonder who she was.
"Apparently the king is going to address the people on Sunday," said the woman.
"Today is Friday." Anna Margaret tried to sound merely puzzled and not condemning of people who were wasting their time here two days in advance. Besides, he would never address the people standing on a soapbox just inside the gates.
"Yes, but something might happen."
Since the woman had not bothered to do more than glance aside, she dared to ask another question. "What's he going to address the people about?" If anyone discovered she was the prime minister, they would never believe she did not already know the answer to that, but nobody would expect the prime minister to come here to ask the question.
"Nobody knows, but everyone has some idea. Me, I hope he's finally going to marry someone. It's about time."
"Thanks," she said, although the woman would not have cared if she had not been thanked.
The rumours of a public announcement would not go well with a woman in shorts entering the front gates. Elegant shorts, certainly, but shorts and a woman all the same and anything out of the ordinary would be connected to the impending announcement.
"But I'm sure he's gay," said one of the other spectators.
"He'd still need to marry. And it would explain why we don't know who he's marrying," said the woman.
"It's something else. He's going to pay taxes like the rest of us."
Anna Margaret walked on quickly before anyone could remember she had said something about the king and paying taxes earlier this year. If they thought of her, they might recognise her sooner.
The staff entrance was out of sight and around the corner. It was a long way, but she did not know of any others. The front one was also used by higher-ranking visitors and, apparently, by Princess Isabelle. Since there were usually no cars in the courtyard, there was probably another entrance for them somewhere. Where would her father have gone in? Phoning him was out of the question if she did not want him to have her mobile number. She could not imagine he had ever walked, actually. He would have had a car take him those few hundred metres.
That morning she had been talking to someone after she left the staff entrance, so she had not paid attention, but today she passed several other gates. They were all closed. The gate to the staff entrance was open. Two uniformed guards stood beside it. That was where she had to go in then.
She showed one her parliament security pass, rather than walking past them and risking a scene. The guard frowned and studied it. "This is the staff and deliveries entrance," he said.
The other guard joined him and also studied her card. "Is this for real?"
"Can we see some other identification, please?"
She pushed her sunglasses up and rummaged in her bag. Just as she had done with Princess Agnes, she gave them a clear view of all the papers she was carrying. She pulled out her wallet and showed them her identification.
"It's okay," decided number two. "You will have to have your bags scanned inside, though."
"Thanks." She walked on and at the end of the short driveway she chose the door marked Staff Only. People in the street could not see inside, but she had already come out of that morning and so she knew what to expect. People going in or out were checked.
After she had been checked, however, she had no idea where to go. There was no way she could recreate that morning's route on her own - corridors, corners, stairs, going outside and back in, hallways. It was not one building; there were several connected ones.
She sat down in a chair and phoned Frederick. "Could you come and pick me up?"
He answered after a few rings. "I'm cooking. Where are you?"
Cooking. She still felt the impulse to snort at a king who was cooking. "At the staff entrance. Does that mean you don't have time?"
"I'll send someone."
"Thanks."
The guards here were curious, but they did not ask her questions. After ten minutes Max showed up. She remembered him, but not in the suit he was wearing now.
"Oh, of course, that was your holiday wear the other time," she said.
"Yes. I have to get a pass made for you. Boss' orders. Please follow me." He took her to an office where she had to have her picture taken and fill out a form. Max asked for a Special, showing the young man behind the computer a note.
Surprisingly the Special turned out to be a rather plain-looking card. It did not say what organisation or building it was for either. Even more surprising was that Max took her back outside into the street. "Try any of the pedestrian gates," he said, walking towards one a little further away.
Anna Margaret held the card in front of the reader and the gate clicked open.
"The green door," he said.
The green door opened as well. She went inside. "I have no idea where I am."
"These are offices," he gestured. He took her up a few steps and at the end of a corridor down a few steps. It seemed they were in a different building now. There, he turned left.
Anna Margaret saw very few people. She supposed they had all left for the day. A few times she had to use her card to open a door. "Does everyone who works here have to leave that way?"
"There are dozens of ways, even an outside route." He let her go outside into a small car park. There were garages, a few shiny black cars and two wooden benches. He led her past the benches through an alley that led to the main part of the Palace, but he did not follow it completely. There was a door in a wall leading onto a tennis court. "This is not an official outside route, you'll understand. The Family playing tennis wouldn't want their game disrupted by kitchen staff going home, but the kitchen staff playing tennis don't mind the Family passing through."
Anna Margaret watched two women playing. They did not seem to care about the passers-by, but simply greeted them. "Do they have access then?"
"Not all day." At the other end of the tennis court he crossed a small stretch of flower garden and arrived at the Palace proper.
She held her card in front of a reader there and they entered a small hallway. It had staircases going up and down and a few doors. One of the doors was open and gave a good view of some kind of command centre. "What's this?"
"Security and sports facilities." He peeked into the command centre and then beckoned her. "Say hello so they'll know you."
"Hello," Anna Margaret said obediently. "I hope you don't have cameras everywhere?"
"No, there are far too many rooms for that, but it's best to behave in public walkways." He left the room again and took her through a large room in which a few men were eating or watching television. He nodded at the door there. "There you are."
She used her card and found herself in Frederick's hallway.
The kitchen door was open and so was the door to the dining room. Anna Margaret found Frederick in the kitchen, however. She hugged him. "Sorry I'm so late. I couldn't go in through the front gates. People are waiting there."
"What sort of people?"
"There's a rumour that you'll be giving a speech. However, since there are some who hope you'll finally get married, I didn't think it was wise for a woman to enter the gates right in front of them."
"No, probably not. I wonder how those things leak out. I've set the proper dining table. Might as well use it some time."
She leant against the kitchen table as he stirred a pan. "This morning I ran into one of the women we met in France."
He turned. "How?"
"It's a small country. She had guessed who you were after she read the papers. I said I couldn't say who you'd been. She still thinks you were lovely, though."
"You sound surprised."
She laughed. "Sorry. At the time I thought you might have been saying what she liked hearing."
"Not really. But how did she guess? And what did she do with it?"
"I think all she did was make a little detour past the Palace to see if she was right. When she read that I had apparently been hurrying home and I wasn't in any hurry when she met me, I suppose she guessed who you were, because what other man could I have been with? I suppose if you'd been my boyfriend you would have allowed me to hurry home and I, if you were my boyfriend, would not have let you get away with picnicking. So you must have been someone who could get away with delaying me a bit."
Frederick pondered that. "And who could? Yeah, it must have been me. But you didn't tell her."
"I said I couldn't tell her, but since she saw me coming out of a Palace building..."
"You could be having an affair with a footman."
"I'd prefer the tennis instructor."
"But you mean she now knows."
"She won't tell. She thinks you're lovely."
"Was she the one with the son or the other one? Not that it matters. I can find out who they are."
"How? And why?"
"How? Well, exactly the opposite of how you thought they would find out who I was."
"But why?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe they can come here for a picnic once."
Anna Margaret imagined him going to his old university, but there she ran into problems. "You'll ask your professors which of his students have mothers?"
"It shouldn't be that difficult."
Dinner was ready. She helped him carry it to the dining room. The table was set there, but there were no candles or anything romantic. Anna Margaret would have been surprised by that anyway. She was not surprised that they were not each sitting at a distant end of the table, but both at the same end.
"How often do you use this table?" she wondered.
"Hardly ever. There's a perfectly good table in the kitchen. I don't often have more than four people to dinner."
"You don't now either."
"You're special. Well, we may use this once and the kitchen table for all subsequent dinners. I don't know. But I thought I should make an effort just this once."
"I appreciate your effort," she said solemnly.
After dinner and tidying up he suggested they go to the pool. She did not know if that was a good idea, since the best she could do was her underwear. "I knew you'd make me exercise, but I didn't bring my swimwear."
"I could dig up some tight lycra stuff if you want, but I'd never make you exercise. Besides, right after dinner it's just active talking and not exercising as such."
"Well, all right then, if no one will laugh at this tight lycra stuff." The idea of floating about while admiring his physique was not unattractive.
The sleeveless lycra top was less tight on her than on him, of course, but it was good enough. There was no one else in the pool. She had to admit it was more pleasant to talk this way than across a tennis net or while jogging around the park, and if they had sat on a couch she might have fallen asleep.
Now she was refreshed enough to be able to ask questions. "Where will you be giving the speech? Will you have to travel to the studios?"
"No, they will come here. I'll be told at what time."
"Should I leave before then? Or would you like me to stay?"
He responded by seizing her around the waist.
"Does that mean stay?"
"Yes, I may need someone to talk to afterwards." He paused. "But it may get busy at the gates Monday morning if people are already there right now. It's not in my best interest to let you go on Sunday evening, but it is in yours."
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "They may want to interview me about this on Monday, or at least have my comments. I'll have to decline. I don't have an objective opinion to offer. What could I say? I don't want to reveal that I know more."
"I don't think you'll have to say much. It's my decision, not something you have or should have influenced. Professionally," he added.
"Going to write my speeches for me now?"
Frederick laughed and threw her backwards so she went under. He pulled her back up when she swam towards him under water. "It's easier if they're not mine."
"It's his decision. It's not something I have or should have influenced," she said dutifully. "Doesn't it sound, if you were listening, as if I'm glad to see you leave?" It sounded as if she stood by indifferently, as if there was nothing worth keeping. She ought to be more complimentary, yet she knew most of his good traits from private encounters. He had not represented the country in any remarkable way, nor had he become immensely popular with the people.
"Maybe, but someone will think that anyway. The trick, said Isabelle, is to focus on the future."
"Or to focus on her."
"Maybe, but shifting the focus away from me made sense - and I didn't mind. So you could say you look forward to working with Isabelle. I'm sure it doesn't matter to you anyway, since we have next to no actual influence and you see us for only half an hour a week. So what remains is the ceremonial representation and I'm no good at it."
"You don't like it," she corrected. "Which is not the same as not being any good at it, but being no good at it is a more acceptable reason for abdicating than simply not liking it, is it?" After all, he had not held the position long enough for anyone to say he would become an absolute disaster. He might become good if he stayed on.
"I once spent most of a charity event sitting in the lavatories playing on my phone."
"Don't try to find me examples. Even though...are you serious?"
"Unfortunately."
"I hope you were really young."
"About 32."
Anna Margaret swam away on her back. She hoped other relatives of his had been there and he had not been the sole guest of honour shirking his duty. "By the way, how are you going to do this in the future? Will you have to go to events as Prince Frederick?"
He swam after her. "As long as I get paid I'll have to. If I renounce membership of the Family altogether, I won't get an allowance anymore."
"Will you find a job?" She tried to imagine him in an ordinary job and failed. It was not that he could not do anything, but more likely no one would hire him.
"I'll see," Frederick said vaguely.
This ought to annoy her and she wondered why it did not. It was probably because his situation was unique. He might need more time to adjust than someone resigning from another type of job.
"If my cousins could find jobs..." he said.
"Will we have to go to events together?" she asked. At least she would know where to find him if he disappeared.
"If you are invited to sports events, I'll come."
"You must be glad we tend to leave families out of the campaigns over here." He would not have to show his face before elections. He would not have to go anywhere with her - assuming she would play a role next time, which she might not.
"Certainly. What if I voted for another party myself? It's ridiculous to expect a partner to support the same party."
"So what do you vote?"
Frederick looked amused. "Margaret darling, tactical voting has nothing to do with one's political ideas. I could, theoretically vote for your opponents if I felt you were better off without a second term."
Anna Margaret stared.
"Unless it was extremely important to you, but I doubt it would be. You've never struck me as that kind of person. You didn't manoeuvre yourself into this position."
"How would you know?"
"You're incapable of lying or scheming."
"How would you know?"
"Oh, small signs here and there."
Someone else dove into the pool. Frederick and Anna Margaret broke off their kiss. "Who's that?" she asked, watching someone crawl away.
"It's my mother."
"She doesn't appear to be shocked. Or she doesn't see it was you."
"Or she needs fifty metres to come up with a reaction."
That turned out to be the case indeed, because his mother stopped near them. "Frederick," she said.
"Oh, you did recognise me," he said.
"Do you mind if I swim?"
"Er, no. We'll behave."
Contrary to what he was probably thinking, Anna Margaret thought that his mother had likely been in such a situation before. There was Isabelle, after all, who had at some point hooked up with a husband.
"Agnes is out tomorrow morning. You can come to eat then," said Frederick's mother.
"Yes, but..." said Frederick, looking at Anna Margaret.
"I assume you do not send her home after swimming? Then you both come."
"Well, yes, but I don't want to say if she goes home or not."
"Frederick," said his mother in irritation and then muttered something in German, most of which got lost under water when she swam off.
"What was that?" he asked.
"I think it was something like: then you pretend she just came back, but I can't be sure." Anna Margaret felt surprisingly relaxed about the invitation. For some reason it did not feel as if she was going to be quizzed relentlessly. To be invited because Princess Agnes was absent was another good thing. "But what did she invite us to?"
"Her apartment. I could go alone if you don't feel like it."
"No, I'll come. I feel as though this may be your only sane relative. Does she share her apartment with your aunt?"
"Yes. My aunt gets no allowance anymore and this way she has the status without the expenses. But they do have separate activities."
"Shall we go upstairs?"
"No, then she'll think we came here only for one purpose."
"All right, we'll swim some more then," she decided.
On Saturday morning Anna Margaret received an email from one of her sisters. None of them had her mobile phone number, about which she had had many an argument, so emailing was the best they could do if they wanted to reach her and she was not answering her home phone.
Hi,
I'm in your neighbourhood this afternoon. What time are you in?
Irene Louise
Anna Margaret blinked at this message for a few seconds. Irene in the neighbourhood? The last time that had happened was at least two years ago. Perhaps she was overly suspicious, but she did not trust it now. "My sister's in the neighbourhood and wants to stop by."
"Here?"
"No, at my flat. She doesn't know I'm here. But we're not in the habit of calling on each other when we're in the neighbourhood. I'm a little suspicious about this. My parents may have put her up to it."
"Just reply that you're not home then," Frederick suggested. "You'll find out soon enough if they're curious."
Hi
I'm not home today, sorry.
AM
"What should I wear to your mother's?" she wondered. "I didn't bring that many clothes."
"What you would otherwise wear would be fine." Frederick was still inspecting his closets in his underwear himself. He finally selected some clothes.
When they were dressed, he took her downstairs and through some doors and corridors to his mother's rooms. There were ways to get from one side of the Palace to the other without crossing the courtyard, but it was not always the most straightforward route.
Queen Anna was already dressed, in neat trousers and a blouse. This time she did greet Anna Margaret personally and very politely. She had been German once upon a time, which some people had held against her, but by now only a slight accent remained, and if she did not occasionally speak to herself in German no one might ever know.
"I must apologise for Agnes," she said. "She is so very curious and afraid Frederick will not be able to take care of himself if we do not give him advice."
"I can give him advice too if he needs any," Anna Margaret said brightly. They were taken into a dining room where the table was already set and staff were bringing the last food. "I don't like staff," she said softly. Staff might talk.
"Don't worry. They have been with me forever." And they looked it too.
"Well, all right then," she said to herself. She laid her cell phone on the table. "Sorry, I'm always on call, so to speak."
"Yes, of course, what with Greece. I'm so very glad we never got a house in Greece, although I was beginning to regret the house in Italy as well."
"I can imagine."
"Oh, if you mean that incident, I was not informed until he was safe. And not by him either."
"Well," Frederick said with a shrug. "I was never in any danger." He held the bread basket out to Anna Margaret.
She picked a roll. "There are other kinds of dangers. Such as having to tell your family where you are exactly and with whom." She glanced at her phone. She was now in the situation he might have been in then. "My sister has not yet emailed back."
"Yes, that. I don't want to lie, so I prefer not to say anything in such a case."
"Isabelle informed me of some details, not all," said his mother. "But she had not got them from you, but from Miss -"
"Anna Margaret, please. Or Anna, or Margaret, I don't mind either."
"But your family is not allowed to know where you are?" She turned her eyes on Anna Margaret.
"Oh, please, not yet." She focused on her breakfast.
"I won't tell him," said Frederick.
"When would you see him?"
"You never know."
After about fifteen minutes, her phone rang and she excused herself. She answered it outside the room and returned in low spirits. "I have to go to Brussels tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Frederick did not seem to like it much either.
"Yes, sorry."
"But not yet today."
"No, George will book train tickets for our group for tomorrow morning. I knew there was a probability, but I had hoped it would be Monday or Tuesday. It may last until then too. I don't know yet."
"Well, at least fewer people will ask you for your opinion on the speech. Which you may not even see live. I don't know if this is good or bad."
"I'll be back. George will phone me later today to say what time we're going. It won't be before ten o'clock, I think. People from further away need to be able to fly in as well." She thought she would be able to stay the night.
After breakfast with Frederick's mother, he gave her a little tour. "I could email you a floorplan," he offered. "I made several floorplans with an app."
"Why? I mean, why did you make them? I thought you knew the way."
Frederick shrugged. "It's fun. In 3D. I haven't done the attics yet, though. They're complicated to do, because it's pretty dark up there."
Of course he would have things he liked to do. She knew about sports, but he could not be doing that all day. There was more and this was one of them. It nevertheless surprised her. "What else do you like to do when you're stuck in here?"
"Stuck in here," he smiled. "I read, I watch people work...occasionally I go out."
She checked her phone. There was an email from her sister, asking her where she was. "Oh, the nerve. Why does she want to know anyway? It's none of her business."
"Don't type that," Frederick advised.
"She never cares where I am, so why would she do so now? Don't you think someone put her up to it? I have a busy job, so if I'm not at home, I'm probably working. Just because I threw up at a barbecue once they're now all afraid I'm slumming with my unemployed boyfriend."
He paused halfway up the stairs. "Slumming with your unemployed boyfriend?"
"I know that is what they think..."
"But why would they think that?"
"Unemployed men are slumming by definition."'
"But who pointed them in the direction of the unemployed boyfriend?"
"My mother did that. She's really good at being pointed in a direction no one ever indicated. I felt sick, so she was afraid I was pregnant..."
He raised his eyebrows. "Is that where Aunt Agnes got that notion?"
"Probably. And she expressed her concern because I work too much, so I got irritated at all the assumptions: that I was pregnant, that I work too much, that I shouldn't get pregnant, that I couldn't make my own arrangements as to where I'd leave a baby, that I needed to ask their permission before getting pregnant...and so forth."
Frederick waited.
"And I told her there were men without jobs."
Contrary to her mother, he understood right away. "So useful."
"Exactly. But it didn't end this train of thought; it started a completely new one."
"You now have a secret unemployed boyfriend who got you pregnant and he lives in a squat?"
"Yes. Sleeping on the floor, using beer crates for tables. I find it really scary that I can predict this irrational train of thought. And my sister trying to find out where I am fits too perfectly."
"You don't have to answer her question."
"I know." She put her phone away. "I'll be off to Brussels anyway and they'll be able to read about that in the papers. Right. Show me the next floor."
"You could take a picture of yourself in the attics. They look like a squat. Plenty of broken furniture and cobwebs. I'm furnishing his new place."
"Noooooo..."
"But you don't get along?" he concluded.
"I don't know. My sisters always seem a bit jealous. They often take things the wrong way and they're insanely focused on what I don't do right. I don't know why. It's never good, whether I contact them or not. They always find something to complain about."
"Never mind them then."
"That's what I'm doing, but they don't like that either."
On Saturday night Paul and Eric held a video call with her. She felt sorry for Frederick, but it was only for half an hour and he watched TV in the meantime. It was imperative to know what Finance and Foreign Affairs thought on the subject. She took notes and thought that with some reading on the train she would be fine. Her assistant had listened in as well and would be available to her when it came to finding or processing information, unlike George, who dealt with all the other stuff.
After that she prepared a reaction to the speech that she emailed to her staff. Without knowing what the speech was going to be like, and without Frederick being all too detailed about it, that had been a rather difficult thing to do, but in the end she had come up with something suitably vague. They really would not care that she might be caught up in meetings tomorrow evening; if people wanted her reaction they would want it immediately and she had best have something ready.
Her other sister had by now emailed too, saying it was selfish and rude of her to ignore her family's emails. "Oh, the drama!" she sighed.
"What now?"
"Another email."
"Ignore."
"But I'm being called rude because I ignored the previous." She was never going to manage a reaction that would be considered acceptable. It was hopeless.
Frederick took her away from her laptop. "Your boyfriend," he said, "being unemployed, kept you busy."
On Sunday morning she rose early and went to her flat to pack. She had wished Frederick luck and told him he could do it. At 9:30 she was picked up by an official car to take her to the station. It would have been a fifteen-minute walk otherwise and that was deemed too far.
She found herself in a first class compartment of the international train to Brussels, with George, her assistant Kristina, Paul, his assistant Rob and two security officers. Those who did not have to read anything looked up practical details about the hotel and route.
When they were nearly there and everything had been gone over, George thought it convenient to ask a question. "You know, madam, Joël said it would be great if you know who could come on his show some time. Or you."
She had vaguely known that Joël did something in the TV business, but not what. "Joël? He has a show?"
"You didn't know?"
"No. What sort of show?"
"A children's show."
"And he wants..." She did not see the connection.
"Who's you know who?" Paul interrupted. "I think I know this Joël. My children watch a show presented by a Joël on Saturdays."
George beamed. "That's my fiancé."
"And he thinks it's a good idea to have Anna Margaret on his show?"
"You don't, I gather," she said, trying to interpret his tone. This sounded like something she should avoid.
"If you like getting dirty..."
"How?"
"If you get too many answers wrong you're dropped in the mud."
She wrinkled her nose when they all laughed. "I see you lot all think it a good idea. What sort of questions?"
"All kinds. My children love it. They keep asking if I'm famous enough to be asked for the mud slide."
"George, there's your volunteer. I don't think I should be doing those things. People may want me to stay serious. And, you know, clean."
"Then again," said Paul, "some would like it if you got dirty. Who's you know who?"
"I'm supposed to lead the country, not engage in mudwrestling." Yes, she knew nobody had mentioned wrestling, but it was the only activity in mud that she could imagine.
"You keep ignoring my question," Paul continued. "Boyfriend?"
"What!"
"George's boyfriend wants your boyfriend on his show. Am I right?"
"Who says I have one?"
"Your face does." Paul was amused and the others were intrigued.
"May I remind you that we're in a public train carriage. Anyone could hear you," she hissed. She would almost stand up to see if anyone was looking at them, but of course if she stood up they would start doing so.
"Sorry," he said in a lower voice. "But why does George's boyfriend want your boyfriend on his show? Is he famous?"
"I'd rather be dropped in the mud than tell you."
Coming out of the meeting it was seven o'clock and Frederick's speech had already taken place. Her group took two taxis to their hotel and had dinner there while they discussed the outcome of the meeting.
Kristina checked the news. "The king held his speech. Now let's wait for the first people asking for your thoughts, though I see André already sent out your reaction. How did you do that?"
Anna Margaret resisted the urge to look up the news as well. She would do that later in her own room, if she still felt up to it. Another meeting was planned at 21:30 and there was no predicting until when that would last. Everyone had been given some time off for dinner and consultations, and for someone to whip up a recap. Then they would resume. "Yes, I prepared that last night. I didn't know what the speech was going to be like, so I hope it fits a bit. It should have been vague enough to fit everything. But they know I'm here."
"Do they ever care?" Kristina asked rhetorically. "I'll send André a message. You don't have the time to watch the entire speech now anyway and give a substantive response."
"Entire speech?" Anna Margaret became a little suspicious. "I thought it was going to be short. Just what did Princess Isabelle do?"
"It was a joint speech," said Kristina, reading. "It doesn't actually say how long, but I assume it would have been long if they both said something."
"No, she had to say something because he couldn't come up with anything to say. The idea was that she would distract people from the fact that he had actually said very little, but she shouldn't have said so much as to make people forget he had said anything at all." She hoped Isabelle had thought the same.
"So what was your reaction?" asked Paul.
"It was vague," Anna Margaret said vaguely. "I couldn't say I was sorry or happy, because that would sound extremely odd, so basically I simply respected his decision."
She excused herself and phoned him from the lobby. Although she had first thought she would not do this until after she got back to the hotel to sleep, she had changed her mind. "Can you talk?" she started out.
"Yes, I can talk."
"How did it go?"
"Well, I don't know. I read it up. I haven't turned on the TV since then."
"I haven't seen it, mind you. I've got another hour until the meeting resumes, but I need to do a few more things until then. Wasn't there anyone there, apart from the camera crew?"
"Oh, yes. An older man who apparently interviewed my father once. He nearly died when he heard." Seemingly that had amused Frederick, or he had decided that he had best feel amused about it.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Was it shock, disapproval, pleasure?"
"Shock. He sort of hinted that he could interview me so I could clarify my reasons, but I said no, I don't care what anyone thinks. He probably thought I was going to be married, although I don't know why Isabelle would need to come with me in that case. And I don't know why my reasons needed to be clarified."
"Would you like sliding into the mud?" And she really could not explain why she asked that. What did it have to do with anything?
"What?"
"It's apparently on some show. If you get answers wrong, they drop you into the mud."
"Oh, that one. Yes, I watched that last night when you were video chatting. Why do you want me to do that?" Frederick sounded surprised.
"I don't; Joël does. George's fiancé. But you watched it?"
"Yes, there was nothing else on at that time. It was fun."
"You wouldn't seriously consider doing that?" she cried, although she still had no idea what was actually involved. It might be as fun as he said. The participants might also look very foolish.
"I so would."
"You're crazy. All right, I have to go and see if they served my dessert yet. I'll probably be late tonight, so please don't phone tonight or early tomorrow morning. I want to make use of all the time I get to sleep."
Frederick promised he would not disturb her and said he hoped she would be back soon.
It was four o'clock when they had the choice between spending over three hours on a train and sleeping in their own beds, or taking the first train out in the morning, which might require rising early. Anna Margaret voted for going home, as did everyone else. She reckoned she could be in bed by ten o'clock, which sounded heavenly compared to the night before.
Once on the train, all the men dozed off or pretended to. Bleary-eyed from fatigue, she tried to look up news about Frederick's speech on the internet. She had her earplugs ready so she could even play the sound. A few times she had to blink to keep her eyes focused. "I'm getting old," she said to Kristina, who was even older. "There have been worse meetings, but I'm half dead."
"Men can sleep sitting up. We need to learn that trick. They'll be completely refreshed when we get home. Bastards."
After sending Frederick a message that she was on the train, she first checked the newspapers. The initial articles did not take a stand, but more or less described what had been said. Soon after the first articles had appeared, there were pieces that attempted to analyse the situation. Those were the ones she was most interested in, even though they would get a lot wrong. It was a surprise that no one had seen coming. Another paper had not expected it, but speculated that rumours about illegitimate children and the attack on the villa had proved too much for the king. She had expected something like that. People would try to establish links between the bits of limited information they had.
By now, a day later, the Palace had posted the recording of the speech on their Facebook page. Anna Margaret finally dared to watch it, having feared it would somehow mention her. It was surprisingly good. She was amazed. There was no stiff reluctance as far as she could tell and - she felt - the exact amount of emotion. There were also clearly no negative feelings between brother and sister. She would say that was exactly what she was looking at - a brother and sister who supported each other. She sniffed.
"What are you watching?" asked Kristina, who was still the only conscious one in their party.
"The speech."
"Oscar-worthy?"
"I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised by how Princess Isabelle supported her brother. It could have been so different. He could have been very stiff and she could have made it all about her. She could have made him look like an idiot." Perhaps she had been afraid of that, rather than of being mentioned in some oblique way.
She moved on to the reactions below the post, which was why she had chosen to watch the speech here and not from a link in a news article. Here, the people reacted. And they were surprisingly positive. Not all, of course there were some who thought he was weak to be giving up at the first inconvenience, but there were at least a few who thought like her.
There was a message from André, asking if she would like to react to a few questions. Well, actually it was more like two pages of questions, but he had sorted them neatly by subject. She groaned.
"Sorry," said Kristina, looking at her screen. "That may be my fault. I said you wouldn't have time, so I guess he saved them up. He could have answered a few himself, I'm sure, even if it was just referring them to your interview just after the meeting. I'm sure it was televised already, so they could simply watch that. It's not likely you'd have a different opinion now anyway."
"It looks like half of them could be referred to the television interview. That cleans up the list nicely." She saved the rest in a new document and looked at it. "Now it looks as if half of the rest ought to be answered by Paul. Why is he sleeping? Why is he not answering questions?"
Paul opened one eye. "I'm not sleeping; I'm resting. This morning I answered about fifty questions that were actually mostly the same one but differently worded, but with a slight variation so I could not copy and paste the same answer. Besides, I answered some over the phone as well."
"I'm emailing you some more homework now," she decided.
He merely closed his eye in response.
Whatever he did, she would prefer to handle this before she got home, so she could go to bed immediately. I cannot say at this moment covered another handful of questions. She did not have a crystal ball. Very likely they would ask again and ask when she would able to say something, but for the moment it put them off. Or, hopefully, they would realise that the answer depended on too many variables over which she had no control. And please do not ask which variables, she thought, but she knew they would.
Then she was left with the questions that dealt with the speech and the abdication. Or not. Had she used her time in Brussels to ask the Germans if they would consider upgrading the road on their side of the border? "André!" she groaned, because he had thought it necessary to include such a ridiculous question in the list.
What did she think of the speech? Had she known there would be a speech? Did an abdication have her approval? Did she think the monarchy ought to be abolished? Was this good PR for the country? What was the king going to do now? Had he been urged to step down because he had misbehaved? Was he gay?
"Deep," she muttered, "very deep. Is he gay?"
"But he could be gay," said Kristina. "It would have been a reason to step down, wouldn't it?"
"Why? If he were gay, he might not have children legally recognisable as heirs - I don't know how it would work legally - but he wouldn't need to have them, because his sister has several children. If your only problem is that you're into men, there's no need to step down. Therefore it follows that this is not his problem. It's simply logical thinking."
"I doubt that it's logical to people asking such a question. You may have to give them an another answer."
"Actually, I was going to ignore that question."
Arriving at the station, the men opened their eyes. Most got taxis, but since it was still light outside, Anna Margaret did not mind stretching her legs after having been forced to sit for most of the day.
"Where are you going?" asked Paul.
"I live in the centre. Walking is faster than taking a taxi."
"Yes, but some people won't be pleased with the outcome of the negotiations. My wife is coming. She'll drop you off," he offered.
"I have to be able to handle these people."
"It would be a waste of time."
"Maybe. The worst that could happen is that they will still think I've stolen their money and given it to the Greeks. It can't get any worse, can it?"
"Of course it can." He eyed a few men who were giving them angry looks.
Anna Margaret noticed them as well. They wanted to tell her something, she could see, but if they had really been dangerous they would already have approached her. She walked towards them. "You look as if you'd like to tell me something."
The dissatisfied citizens made their predictable feelings known, but not quite as vehemently as they would have done had she attempted to ignore them.
"Let me buy you a coffee and I'll try to explain," she said. If the two security officers thought this dangerous they would simply have to stay with her.
After one coffee she said she really needed to go. Her critics were sufficiently mollified, but they wanted proof of having met her. "No..." she groaned. "I've only slept for four hours and you want to take a photo with me?" But she agreed to do it.
She would have liked Frederick to be at her flat when she got home, but it would not be a wise thing to do after he had just drawn attention to himself. More people might recognise him than before - and the instance with the women in France proved that he was not completely unrecognisable.
When she got home she searched her kitchen for food and had two bananas and some crackers. Before she could phone Frederick, her father called. He wanted to hear how it had all gone, of course. She gave him the briefest of summaries.
"I know, it's late," he said. "But if you have time, come to dinner tomorrow so you can tell me all about it."
So he could hear all about it - there was a slight difference in motivation there. "All right," Anna Margaret said nonetheless.
When she had hung up she remembered he might invite men from the golf course, although it would distract him from his questioning and so she might be safe. He would not invite them this time.
She called Frederick from bed, but he could tell she was sleepy and he promised not to ask anything about Brussels.
"I thought it looked good," she said about the speech.
"Did you?" He sounded pleased. "I haven't looked up what people thought about it. Most of that will come tomorrow anyway. My mother said it was all right, but Aunt Agnes said she didn't know what to make of it."
"No, it was all right. I won't see you until Wednesday. I think Isabelle should join us, so she could see what we do?" she asked tentatively, not knowing how he would react to having their tête-à-tête disturbed. "She may want to. It's not that complicated. You managed to do it too without ever having sat in, but she may be more conscientious."
"Oh, you think?" he chuckled. "But when can I see you alone?"
"I don't know. Let's just wait what sort of attention we're getting this week. They might be all over us."
"I hope not. Maybe you could schedule in some extra time on Wednesday. You could say you need half an hour extra to brief Isabelle."
That sounded tempting and she tried to imagine it. "What would she say if we..."
"If we went to my rooms?"
"Yes."
"I don't know. We could say it was for lunch. It might even be for lunch."
"I'll try," she promised.
Anna Margaret had set her alarm for half an hour later, feeling she deserved to sleep a little longer. Last night's disgruntled citizens had gone viral. She did not realise it until she got to her office building, however, having skipped her morning reading in favour of extra sleep.
"Will you buy us a beer too?" asked one reporter jokingly.
"Benny, I answered your question by email from the train." There were some whose names she knew by now. Those were things you picked up after a while - as well as that he did not want to hear any answers over his beer, but something else.
"I wouldn't mind being taken out for a beer and having everything explained to me," he said in case she did not understand.
She forced a smile. "What happened exactly? I came straight from bed. I know nothing, but I could make a guess." Everyone now knew she had treated some men to a drink. That in itself was no problem, if nothing had been added to the story.
"From bed? Alone?"
A withering glare sufficed.
"You talked to people. You bought them drinks."
"Ah. Well, I'd like to clarify that I will not buy drinks for everyone who gives me unfriendly stares, but once in a while, why not?"
"What did you tell them?"
"I guess it wasn't as effective an explanation as it was intended to be, if the most important bit of news that stuck in everyone's mind was the beer. But it was more or less the same as the answers the questions you lot posed, but then in simpler terms."
"George, would you believe that you know who would do this mud thing?" Anna Margaret shook her head. She could not mention Frederick's name, because there was a junior civil servant nearby. "I definitely won't."
"Do you mean you asked?"
"Why are you surprised? You asked me."
"I didn't think you would. That's all. I told Joël I'd tell you, but I didn't think you would actually do something about it. But do you mean he would?"
"He says he knows the show."
"He knows the show?" George nearly fainted at the honour bestowed on his fiancé.
"He watched it on Saturday."
"Seriously? But it's a children's show."
"It's what he said. What sort of questions are they anyway?" They could not be too difficult on a children's show.
"Things you get in school when you're about twelve."
Anna Margaret raised her eyebrows. "And still people get dropped into the mud because they can't answer them?"
"That's the amusement. But could Joël ask him, do you think?"
"Do you really think it's good for him to be subjected to this kind of fun?" There were things he could not do, but she supposed it all depended on how many questions he would be able to answer.
"It's relatively harmless."
"That's what they always say." She was not convinced. "What if he got too many answers wrong? Wouldn't that be humiliating? Is it legal? Am I responsible for undignified behaviour? Will they ask me questions again?"
"I'm not sure Joël would want him for the mud slide. Maybe for some of the children's wishes."
"Oh, he only thought of me for the mud slide. Thank him. That's too kind."
In the evening, she left through the side entrance to save time, went home and changed into different clothes. While she was doing so, she transferred a load of laundry from the washing machine to the dryer and cleaned the toilet. She still had no food, so she packed her wallet so she could buy something on her way back home. Then she got her bicycle out of her storage unit downstairs and cycled to her parents' house. She was not particularly enthusiastic about going there, but she knew it was best to get it out of the way.
"I expected you a little earlier," said her mother when she opened the door.
"Work." Her mother ought to know that this sort of work did not usually end at five o'clock. "And a little housework."
"You really ought to get a cleaning lady."
"I don't want strangers in my house." She had considered the idea sometimes, but she had never been able to warm to it. As long as he managed to do it on her own, there really was no need to hire someone who might snoop or steal.
"Dinner is ready. Go right through to the dining room."
Her father was reading a newspaper behind an empty plate. He got up to greet her.
"Hi Dad, hungry?"
"You could say that. How was Brussels?"
"Tiring. In the end it came down to exactly what I had predicted."
"Long sessions, I read."
"We've had worse, but there were always new ones planned, all about the same thing. I slept for about four hours on Monday night."
Her father questioned her about the particulars of the discussions and decisions, while her mother brought in the meal. After a while her mother grew bored of the political talk and brought up the topic Anna Margaret did not want to discuss. "You weren't home a week ago on Sunday."
"I leave the house sometimes," she said calmly. There had never been a hundred percent certainty of her being home on Sunday morning. Occasionally she was even away for work.
"And this weekend too, as if you were elsewhere."
"Brussels." That was easy. Everyone would know about it. And her father would know she never took as much time before and after as he always had. He would never have taken the first train back home.
"Did you leave on Saturday?"
"I was getting ready for it on Saturday."
"But not at home."
"No. Why did Irene want to stop by?" She supposed Irene was the source of their information anyway, unless they had come by themselves and found the door was again not being opened. But it would really be stupid of someone to try that a second time.
"Because she's your sister."
"That's never bothered her before."
"Don't be so unkind about your sister."
"Well, it's true. She's never asked to visit before. Well, once when I was living in Brussels and she needed a cheap place to stay, but otherwise no, she's not in the habit of looking me up." It was not the way it went between them. She had never minded herself and she had never thought Irene minded. They simply had different lives.
"That's not true."
"Oh, all right. I suppose I missed all those times she was outside my door and I was selfishly not opening it." Anna Margaret tried to keep her tone indifferent, but she was slowly growing annoyed.
"Well, you could devote a little more time to your family. Or...have you got a boyfriend?"
Ah, there was the question at last. "Because that's the only reason I could have for neglecting my family?"
"It was when you had that Swede when you were living in Brussels."
"A Norwegian - and that lasted about a month." It could not have had any effect. The reason she had not gone home often was because she had been abroad and she had not wanted to spend so much time on trains every weekend, but that was perhaps too simple an explanation.
"But do you?"
"Do I what?" Anna Margaret asked innocently.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
She wondered what would be best, but they really would not like it if it later turned out she had lied. There were some things she could still keep back, but this was basic. "Yes."
"Yes?" both of her parents cried at once.
"Oh, don't act surprised. I'm merely confirming what you've been hinting at. I might even be lying." But she was wondering what clues there had been, other than not having been home. It was not the first time she had not been home. She generally went on trips without informing her parents and she certainly would not tell them she had gone swimming on Sunday morning or whatever she might possibly do. Had she been behaving that differently then? She had been rational and unaffected, she believed.
"But you do?" her mother asked.
"Maybe."
"Do you spend time with him?"
The stupidity of the question gave her pause. All this fuss was because they suspected her of having spent time with someone else.
"Who is he?" her father inquired. "Your mother seems to think he might be unemployed."
"Would it be a problem if the hypothetical boyfriend were unemployed?" She tried to discern if having a secret boyfriend was the problem, or his possibly being unemployed.
Now it was her parents' turn to be taken aback by the stupidity of the question.
"Oh, it would be," she concluded. "In that case I can't tell you."
"Does he have a house?"
"He's got a few rooms in a really big place." That was not very impressive, she could tell, but it was in fact the truth.
"Please don't get pregnant by this man," her mother begged. "Accidents happen so easily."
"No, they don't. We've all been taught about contraceptives at school." She sounded confident. "But why would it be a problem?" For them, she meant. She could see why it would be a problem for herself. And that was not because of the man, but because of her job.
"The Swede would have been suitable."
"Norwegian - and no."
"Scandalous," said her father. "Think of your position."
The irony was that a relative equal would be as scandalous as someone far beneath her. She nearly smiled. "I am thinking of it."
"You can't be."
"You'll just have to wait and see. As for Irene and Claire, why did you put them up to emailing me?" She still believed that they had been prompted to do it.
"They would like some attention," said her mother.
"They will not get any attention if they call me rude and selfish. Just saying." Anna Margaret spoke casually, but she narrowed her eyes.
"You never care about what is important in their lives."
"I never know what is important in their lives. They don't tell me more than I tell them." They had had this conversation before and it was never resolved to anyone's satisfaction. It was a question of different lives, different interests, different ages even. She was the eldest.
"You did not come to Claire Sophie's husband's birthday."
"I cannot cancel a state visit for that reason. Dad! Tell them." She looked at her father imploringly. This was ridiculous. The birthday had been months ago and for that reason it was even more ridiculous to mention it now. She had received the invitation and declined politely, because she would not be in the country. As far as she had been concerned, there was no more she had been able to do.
"That's what I said."
"You could have phoned," said her mother.
"I'm sorry. This is ridiculous. He's not my brother; he's my sister's husband. I don't care about birthdays. I accept that they care about birthdays and for their sakes I try to remember, but they do not make any effort to accept that I don't give a **** about birthdays and that I may forget. Why does this have to be a one-way effort? And getting passive aggressively angry about my not phoning from where was I - wasn't it China? - is not going to make me remember the birthday next time."
"He turned thirty."
"Wow. So did I a few years ago. Mum, don't let yourself get sucked into this nonsense, unless you're fuelling it?"
"They feel you don't think them interesting."
"What are we having for dessert?"
Anna Margaret cycled away and put her headset on. She phoned Frederick. "Sorry to bother you. Do you think I'm selfish and rude?" It was a silly question, because he would hardly say yes.
"What's the matter?"
She exhaled in annoyance. "I had dinner at my parents' house. I really shouldn't have gone."
"Did they call you selfish and rude?"
"Sort of. Apparently there are two issues. My father is afraid I've got myself an unsuitable, lower-class man, and my mother is channelling my sisters' dissatisfaction because apparently I don't give them enough attention."
"And now you'll be giving them even less attention because you've got a boyfriend. Why do they need attention? Why are they jealous?"
"Things come easily to me, I suppose. School did, work did... But I never make any comments about people to whom these things don't come as easily. I could hardly decline a position I am offered because my sisters would never achieve it - and who is to say they wouldn't? It's not as if all of our ministers are brilliant geniuses anyway - or stop working towards something because I am beyond the best that they could do." It was impossible to get it right, she felt, and that was frustrating.
"And now you've got a boyfriend," he said thoughtfully. "What about them?"
"They're both married."
"And you've acknowledged their superiority in this respect, I suppose? Frequently and humbly?"
Anna Margaret was confused. "What? No. I don't - why?"
"You don't even care that they beat you there."
"What?"
"I'm joking," Frederick clarified. "I don't mean that you should; I mean that they probably think you should. I recognise the idiocy from school. I got some of that."
"But you don't think I'm selfish or rude?" She rubbed her eye behind her sunglasses.
"Well, you can be rude, a bit, or would it be direct? I don't mind it anyway. But don't get upset about it. It's not about you; it's about them. It doesn't mean you are what they say you are. I don't know, they may simply want to be more like you."
"Thanks," she managed.
"I love you."
That came at an unfortunate moment. "Yes, er, that. I'm waiting for a red light. But do you really?"
"Yes."
"I do too." She could safely say that without anyone standing beside her knowing what it was about. She nevertheless blushed.
"What are you doing anyway, that you're at a red light and you can't talk openly?"
"Cycling. But what do I do about the problem?"
"I don't think there's much you could do, but that's my experience, which dealt with classmates and not family. It's easier to ignore classmates or beat them up."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Beat them up?" Had he really?
"Yes, don't do that."
"Light's green." She pedalled away, slowly, so everyone else would be ahead of her. "So..."
"Just stay polite whenever you speak to them. I don't think you have to go out of your way to inform them of everything you do - we do. Unless, of course..." he mused.
"Unless what?"
"Unless they would become your best friends if they found out who I am? So it depends on whether you want them to become your best friends, and on whether they would be sensitive to that kind of connection."
"My father is, but I don't know if they are. But my father is not giving me trouble about giving them attention; that's my mother. And anyway, I'm not going to use you. I don't know, it could get better and it could get worse if they knew I was seeing you. I suppose it might depend on whether I gave them access to you."
"And you don't want to give people access to me, unless they're politicians."
She cringed. "I'm sorry I had to."
"I know, but I can still tease you."
"But what I meant was, it could go either way if I told them about you. They might think my intention was to make them jealous, rather than simply to include them in what was going on in my life."
"And they couldn't simply be happy for you?"
"I really don't know," Anna Margaret said despondently.
"How did this happen?"
"They've always claimed my father favoured me. Maybe he did. But it's not my fault that I'm the eldest and that I got to do everything first. I wish people would stop being childish and just approach this from a rational point of view. I'm at the supermarket now. I need to buy food, because I've run out."
"Are you eating too much?"
She laughed. "Too little."
"There's no need to starve yourself to fit into a dress for the inauguration, you know."
"Ugh! But you'll be happy to know that since I didn't stay too long at my parents' house, I'll have time to go for a run later."
"I've already been, or I could have run into you," Frederick said regretfully.
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