More Titles ~13

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Chapter Thirteen

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Isabelle amazingly agreed to be photographed getting into the pool. Anna Margaret did not know how persuasive Philip had been. Florian was carried, even though he had continued to believe until the very end that his father could not do that. He had nevertheless been curious enough to play along.

Anna Margaret had to get the photo right in one go, because Philip had said he would do it only once. Isabelle would rather have had several tries to see which was the most flattering. She had to show the photo after taking it and because Florian’s legs were obscuring pertinent parts of her body, Isabelle gave her permission.

“I still think some people prefer to see us dressed,” she said.

“I’m going to put this on my Strava as a weightlifting session,” said Philip.

“Do whatever you like there, but I thought this was going up on our official Instagram.”

“Which doesn’t come with the disclaimer that we never undress,” Florian remarked. “And those eighty-year-olds who disapprove don’t do Insta. I think it might go on X.”

Anna Margaret sent the photo to Frederick. He replied that he would only post it on his own account, not as a reply to Rick’s thread.

@Fr3d3r1ck
[photo] Because his parents think Florian is still a little baby #ChickMagnetInTraining

@Fr3d3r1ck
Meanwhile @RickDrawsGold is ahead in today's archery round. #Archery

@Fr3d3r1ck
And @RickDrawsGold is through to the next round. On behalf of the spectators in the stadium here, I thank you for your attention. Was this on TV at home? #Archery

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Anna Margaret and the others had taken two taxi vans into Paris. Isabelle had not been too comfortable about the train and their company would have to take 4 taxis to fit everyone in, so that idea had not been considered until someone had wondered if they did not have large taxis. They did.

To be honest she was relieved she would not have to be lugging Alex around in a car seat in case they would choose to take a taxi back. The chances of that would have been huge if Isabelle had had to go down by train. There was a royal carriage back home, but that was worlds away from sharing a public carriage with locals and fellow Olympic tourists. Someone who was not used to it, might find it a little intimidating.

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Meanwhile the reactions were still coming in on Instagram, about Frederick’s photo and words. Most people liked it, but others were more critical. There were some reactions that said they should have been dressed. The official account was on the case, but could of course not yet be very sharp.

@RoyalHouseOfficial
Her Majesty Queen Isabelle and her family are currently staying near Paris. Their accommodation includes a swimming pool which the family members use freely, wearing attire appropriate for swimming. Much has been asked of the younger members this past year. These moments provide a perfect opportunity to emphasise the importance of loving and supportive family as a foundation of the institution.
@RoyalHouseOfficial
In response to recent media speculation regarding the family bonds of Her Majesty Queen Isabelle and her household, the family believes that a photograph can express their closeness more clearly than words.

Critics voiced long-winded complaints about tradition and the image of the monarchy. Supporters saw no harm in two privately posted pictures, as opposed to intrusive shots by paparazzi – preferably unflattering.

Florian fuelled the flames with relish by adding his parents’ pool picture to Instagram, with the caption: Unfortunately there were no other photos in our collection that address so many misconceptions at once as the previous one.
Here’s another one that addresses some misconceptions: we don’t swim with our clothes on, we have fun, we don’t wait for the next official occasion stored on a shelf and switched off like a robot.
Yes, so this one was staged, but not for you. We can still use it for you, though.

There were negative reactions to the new post as well, notably from the same accounts that had disapproved of the first photo and learnt nothing from the reactions.

Anna Margaret was fortunate to be sitting in the same taxi van as Florian for an hour, so she was informed of all these posts that she would otherwise have missed. There was a text from her spokesman saying he had received questions about it, to which she had replied that there was nothing wrong with people entering swimming pools with their own spouses. She would not be provoked by attempts to sow discord within the family.

“They literally analyse our holiday swimwear every year,” said Florian. “But when we post our own photo, they act all surprised that we wear it.”

“Maybe it was the carrying.”

“Tossing me in would have been more dignified, yeah. Or am I now in trouble?”

“No.” She composed a longer message to her spokesman.
1. Not officially attending olympics > doesn’t care for country.
2. Officially attending olympics > doesn’t care for husband.
3. Leaving baby at home > bad mother.
4. Taking baby along > bad minister.
5. Staying with family > bathing in luxury.
6. Not staying with family > they hate her.
7. Florian at pre-olympic dinner > he’s such a good heir.
8. Florian in swimming pool > he’s the worst heir we ever had.
She paused to show it to him.

He snickered. “That’s about right, yes. I was getting glowing reviews last week for representing the country. I was so wonderful and mature. Mature especially.”

She sent the message to her spokesman. Let him make something nice of that when more questions came in. He would undoubtedly also be getting sillier questions that he was not even telling her about.

She wondered about the National House. Would it be rather informal, or would the news of their visit have caused those in charge to summon up other dignitaries as well?

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They were welcomed by two official-looking people in the street outside the house when the taxis pulled up. Unfortunately for the greeters the taxis still needed to be paid and undercarriages for the car seats and the travel cot unloaded from the back. There was no swift and graceful exit. Anna Margaret disliked that she could now imagine the headline in her head: why did they have to take those babies? But the baskets in the undercarriages contained the bigger children’s swimwear and towels, so the babies were definitely useful for something.

Everyone was politely greeted and welcomed inside, some ten minutes after the doors had officially opened. This meant there was no longer a queue, if there had been one at all, and the street was rather quiet. Diagonally across there was a pub decked out in the blue and gold for the week and someone appeared to cheer from there. But that was all.

Inside, apart from some Parisian dignitaries and representatives from their national embassy, was the first national media crew she had seen at these Olympics. The children, led by Florian, first made sure they politely secured themselves something to drink after more than an hour in a taxi before they casually asked National House staff about the pool. Anna Margaret could not see any other youngsters around yet. Maybe they were already outside.

She was by now a pro in setting up the travel cot and laid Alex and Max in it, while Isabelle was still being talked to.

First they were given a small tour. It was only a small space, one side meant for networking and chatting with high tables, and one side intended for watching the screens and lounging. Littered through the space were small stands with information about things like castles, cheeses and business opportunities.

Anna Margaret declined a glass of wine. She saw all children, who had all finished their first drink already, being offered wine and all declining. That was good; not so good on the part of the staff here, but she noticed that Isabelle nudged Philip onto the case. He made a whispered comment to the people behind the wine stall and they looked suitably apologetic.

The children, after a rapid and polite look around, disappeared in the direction of the terrace doors. The pool was outside. They came back in when they realised they needed swimwear. Apparently there was nothing to stop them from going in.

Anna Margaret saw the Minister for Sport arrive and she walked up to him for a chat.

After she had chatted to people for close to half an hour and once turned Alex back onto his back because sometimes he was just like a helpless turtle, she got to sit down to feed him. There she could also watch the sports that were on. Some people only stayed here. Presumably they had children in the pool and were already more than informed about bottled spring water and educational opportunities.

The National House had, perhaps after the first day or perhaps even before they opened, realised that pool goers sometimes came into the main hall. They provided long blue robes with the national flag on them for those who wished to step inside for a second.

“Are you going into the pool?” she teased the Sport Minister, who had joined her on the comfortable couches when she was nursing. He had had seen that all before back at home, so he knew she could chat and nurse at the same time. “Maybe you get to keep the robe so you can wear it when you go to the next sport.”

He studied his neat shirt and trousers. “I think I’m fine. But I saw you went swimming.”

“Of course. There’s a pool at the house.”

“And you actually agreed to have your photo posted.”

“Ahh,” she sighed. “I still have a subscription at our local pool. Half the town already knows what I look like. I’m not suddenly against being seen in swimwear because I’m married. I went there pregnant and all and nobody cared, but now that I have a child and a husband, people are like that is so shocking! Or brave. Or scandalous.”

He laughed. “And Alex needs to refuel again. No wonder, if he trains so much.”

“Don’t tell me you follow that account as well.” She gave him a playful frown when she thought of everybody knowing about that account except her.

“I do now. I am the Minister for Sport, what can I say? I have been vetted to follow it, but Frederick knows me.”

“Are you skipping the rowing, by the way?”

“Not at all, but I have it from your esteemed husband himself that he will probably be in the A/B finals and that I should give some other people attention on the days before.” He raised his eyebrows as if to check if that information was correct. “If he’s going to be in the C/D finals, I’m going to have a scheduling problem.”

“I’m going with what he says.”

“I’m trying to combine the athletes’ own predictions with the chef de mission’s – he gives me schedules. But today I went to the archery and I was told beforehand that it was a big achievement that he had even got that far and then he just went through to the next round.”

“Now you’ll have to go again.”

“I can’t actually watch someone twice if there’s another that I haven’t seen at all yet,” he said regretfully. “So I’ll have to look at the planning.”

“True, I suppose.”

“Are you going to see something else?”

“As much as I’d like to, I think not. We’re an hour away at the very least and I have too much to take with me. They advise not to take children under four and as I’ve found, that is pretty sound advice. Carrying a baby and a bag up some stadium stairs and into the middle of a row is not something I’d like to do again. Imagine needing to go to the toilet or needing to change a nappy mid-competition? I underestimated that a bit.”

“What did you do yesterday? I read that you were seen in the VIP stands.”

“Yesterday was special. This Frenchman came up to us and we thought he was going to say something about the babies, but apparently he’d been told who we were and he offered us an upgrade to the lounge. Isabelle said no at first because we already had a plan, but the man insisted, so we went to the VIP lounge for a few minutes and then we went back out again. We got a private hostess and they kept wanting to give us champagne, but why would we bring babies if we weren’t breastfeeding? So that means no champagne. It was quieter there. Maybe we should have got tickets for that in the first place. But then, it’s ridiculous to pay for babies and children there, so I think maybe that’s why we didn’t. I wasn’t in control of the booking.”

“Did the children come here?” He had arrived when they had already gone outside and he had not seen them.

“That’s our sole reason for being here: they wanted to go to the pool disco,” Anna Margaret said with a smile. “They were not given unlimited time, so they went straight out not to waste any.”

“Have you been there yet?”

“No. Shall we take a look?”

“When you’re done,” he said with a look at Alex.

“I can still walk doing that. He’s getting a bit heavier, but I can still do it.” She got to her feet without needing assistance.

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One of the security officers was sipping a drink at the bar, but everyone else was either in the water or on a lounger while DJ Tricky was playing music at an acceptable volume. Nobody was actually dancing, but a group was playing volleyball in the water. Two girls in bikinis were watching from sun loungers, but Anna Margaret hoped they were not looking for attention from Florian; they would not really fit into the family.

“Still quiet out here,” said the minister.

Isabelle came to have a quick look. “That looks all right.”

“Are you going in?” Anna Margaret wondered.

“And change in a tent?” She had looked around even better and seen the changing area. Other adults had come out now too. Perhaps she was saying it to make sure they would quickly return inside because there was nothing to see here, certainly not the queen changing into a swimsuit.

“But you’ll get a robe.”

“Oh, now...” She returned inside.

Anna Margaret followed. It had become a little busier inside. Alex was still nursing, but he suddenly let go and tried to turn around. “Alex...” she chided, looking for a seat to get the different layers of clothing back into place. “Give me some warning, will you?”

Alex looked as if he did not care. He was ready for action and looked around attentively. She hoped he had not seen the swimming pool, because that would mean he wanted to get in.

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Fifteen minutes before the taxis were due to pick them up again, the children were warned to get out of the pool. They knew the deal, so there were no protests. Anna Margaret folded up the travel cot and placed Alex and Max back in their car seats.

RTA had been shooting a piece about the atmosphere in the National House, but they had not dared to approach any well-known people. They had filmed from a distance, so viewers would not overhear what those filmed were saying. There were brief shots of the youngsters in the pool and of the babies in the travel cot, while the voice of the manager explained what the National House was for.

We were honoured to welcome Her Majesty Queen Isabelle, the Prime Minister Ms Anna Margaret Rendinger, and members of the royal family to our National House during #Paris2024.
During their visit, they spoke with other guests and engaged with the exhibits and experiences on offer. We are pleased they left with a positive impression of the National House and its purpose.
The National House is a place to discover more about our country, to come together, and to celebrate—through culture, conversation, and sport.