‘That’s all it is to you, isn’t it?’ Alex looked to his father, actually saw him as if for the very first time. ‘You know, I was a little bit worried about my mother’s drinking.’ He poured himself a rather large one. ‘Now I admire her restraint. You’d need to be sedated to listen to you.’ But the king wasn’t listening.

‘Where is she?’ the king demanded as the butler served afternoon tea.

And Alex sat there, as an aide spoke about the wedding guests and dignitaries that would be coming. ‘You said she was at the hotel.’

‘I was talking about your mother. Where is she?’ he demanded again. ‘We’ve got the wedding rehearsal this evening, we have guests arriving tonight.’

‘She asked for transport,’ the butler answered, but was saved from explaining further as the queen arrived home then.

‘Where were you?’

‘I went into Santina...’ She had very pink cheeks. ‘I got my hair done, in a salon.’ The king just looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. ‘And Allegra was right, the owner shut up the shop and I had a delightful time with the other women. They were getting their hair done for the wedding too. They’re having a street party.’ She looked to her king. ‘Do you like my hair?’

It was strawberry blonde now rather than grey, but the king chose not to notice. He didn’t want to notice, for he did not like the changes. These trips out were becoming more frequent and he did not like them one bit.

‘Have some tea,’ he said.

‘I’d like a brandy,’ she said to a maid. ‘And two headache tablets please.’

‘It’s the crowds,’ the king said. ‘All the noise giving you a headache.’

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‘It is not the crowds,’ she snapped.

‘Have some tea.’

‘I don’t want tea.’

Alex chose not to listen. Instead he frowned as Belinda came into the room with news he really did not want to hear.

‘Bobby Jackson’s speaking to the press.’

‘You had tea with him!’ the king said as they moved to the television room. Alex stood at the back, watched Bobby standing at Heathrow Airport, a throng of microphones pressed to his face and a crowd gathered around.

‘His people like him,’ the queen said.

‘They’re not his people,’ the king snapped, ‘they’re fans.’

And Alex closed his eyes, for he did not want to be like his father. He knew he could be at times and he never wanted to be like that again—especially where Allegra was concerned. Bobby Jackson was talking about player selection, and giving his views, but now, of course, the questions were growing more personal. The press were bored with incessant ‘no comments’ and so they chose a different line.

‘Will you be making a speech at your daughter’s wedding?’

‘No comment.’ He gave a grim smile and went to walk off.

‘Only, you embarrassed her pretty badly at the engagement...’

And Alex watched as Bobby’s shoulders stiffened. ‘You had a few too many and said how well she’d done for herself.’

And to Bobby’s credit he did walk off, but only for two seconds—a proud man, he soon turned around.

‘Had I got to finish my speech, I’d have said that Prince Alessandro had done well for himself too. She’s a nice girl is Allegra, she’s been the lynch pin of this family.’ His voice broke just a little. ‘They’re so lucky to have her. They’ve done well for themselves too.’

And Alex stood there, and so badly he wanted to see Allegra.

‘So vulgar.’ The king huffed. ‘Off to his harem he goes. I don’t know how those women—’

‘I’d kill to be Chantelle or Julie.’ Just when he least needed it, just when he wanted for the first time to examine his own feelings, there was another crisis to deal with. The queen, his mother, standing with three decades of fury pooling out, as the maid stood there, as the butler did too, as the fireworks went off and the queen exploded. ‘At least he gives them half of his attention. I have one man to myself and all I get is ignored. Bobby Jackson is charming, absolutely charming, and yes, rather sexy too. And for all his mistakes, at least he knows how to treat a woman.’




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