In the back of the sleek, black Rolls Royce that took us in the direction of Richmond, I relaxed for the first time in days. I had no idea of what the future held or what this touching reunion between mother and son might mean for me and my future, and yet I felt very happy and entirely at ease.
“Do you mind if I ask,” Andrew began, somewhat tentatively. “What turned you around?”
His mother looked wistful. “Rogers came to me and reminded me of something that occurred in my youth. He was absolutely right to do so.”
Good old Rogers.
She continued. “I met a man, when I was much younger. He was Swedish royalty. We fell in love and I think we would have been married but…there was some sort of diplomatic misunderstanding between our families at the time. My father had a disagreement with his father—the King of Sweden—and there was a lot of nastiness involved. Media smear campaigns for weeks, and so on.”
Ah. So that was why Alexandra had said ‘not again’ when she said she didn’t want anything negative to happen between the royal families of Great Britain and Sweden. As awful a person as she was, she’d at least had some good intentions in desperately wanting to marry Andrew. I still couldn’t stand her, and I’d probably never forgive her for how she’d treated me, but I could at least somewhat understand her actions now, as crazy as they’d been.
“I still remember clearly when my parents spoke to me about it. I don’t think any of us—not me or them—used the word ‘love’. And I don’t think it was because they thought love didn’t matter next to duty, it was just…that’s not how we talk. We bury our emotions. Anyway, they made it clear I could not marry him under any circumstances, and they made me cut off contact. I don’t know what would’ve happened with him if things had been…if I’d fought for him the way you fought for Keira. A few years later I met your father and fell in love with him, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. So in a way I’m grateful to my parents and to myself for screwing that moment up, because it led to something else wonderful. But as you get older, it’s hard not to look back and wonder. My point is,” she seemed to awake from a reverie of times gone by, “I came within an ace of treating you the way my parents treated me—of not actually speaking to you and acknowledging the fact that you are in love. And if you don’t learn from these life experiences, then really, what use are you?”
Andrew said nothing, but he squeezed his mother’s hand.
I wondered how many other such experiences might be hidden away beneath the stifling cloak of monarchy.
For a while, silence reigned in the back of the car, until we were in sight of Richmond Palace.
“So what exactly are we planning to tell Michael?” Andrew asked.
“The truth,” I replied. I wasn’t sure it was my place to say so, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.
The Queen nodded. “Keira’s right. If this near miss has taught us anything—and I sincerely hope I’m not yet too old to learn—then it’s that we need to talk to each other openly and honestly. I’ll speak to him as soon as we’re back.” She paused. “You know he’ll ask about whether or not you want to be King.”
Andrew nodded ruefully. “I imagine that will be his first question.”
“Well, it’s not one I can answer.”
Andrew shook his head. “Me neither.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.” He sighed. “I hate to mess you around, but…give me time to think and talk to Keira. I think Michael at least owes me that much after what he threatened me with.”
The Queen nodded. I knew she hadn’t actually seen the photos Michael apparently had in his possession, but she was aware of what he’d intended to do with them if Andrew hadn’t given him what he wanted.
“What do we tell the media?” Andrew asked next, as if working his way down our list of problems.
“The truth,” the Queen said. “And as soon as possible. If it comes out any other way, then it’ll look like we were trying to hide something, and it’ll be all the worse for Keira.”
“I can handle it,” I said.
But the Queen’s face remained grim. “With all due respect, Keira, I assume you have not been the center of a media storm before?”
“Well, no.”
“It isn’t pleasant,” she said. “They’ll come for you with personal attacks. They’ll dredge up old boyfriends, and if they cannot find them they will create them. There will be stories about your friends, your family, your education, your sex life. It will be vile. And the sooner we get on top of it, the better. If we can release the information in our own way then it will be a love story that transcends class. If the tabloids get it some other way then it will be the prince forced to marry the maid he knocked up during filthy sex romps.”