Authors: Kate Forster
‘Perrette, that’s not true,’ Gus said, his voice soft. ‘And if you think that, then that’s a sad thing. You are accomplished and beautiful. I know you’re great at your job. I made you none of those things.’
She paused. ‘That’s true,’ she said in a small voice and he laughed a little.
‘You’ll be fine, Perrette. Go and make something of your life that’s more than being a princess. It’s not actually great job,’ he said. ‘Trust me, I know.’
Perrette was quiet for a moment. ‘I’m going to go to New York,’ she said eventually. ‘I’ve always wanted to live there.’
‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ he said.
‘Will you be with her? Cinda?’ asked Perrette.
‘No,’ said Gus.
‘Well I suppose that’s something,’ she said, some of her cattiness returning.
I suppose it is
, he thought sadly. ‘Goodbye, Perrette,’ he said.
‘Goodbye, Gus.’
And with that, Gus was free from everything – except his love for the one girl he could never have.
‘Cinda, guess what?’ Jonas’s excited voice came down the phone. Cinda paused just outside the doors of the National Portrait Gallery.
‘Make it snappy, lady, I’m about to go and look at pictures of dead people for inspiration,’ she said, stepping into the atrium to get away from the bitter London cold.
She was feeling better, thinking about Gus less often, enjoying her new life in London as much as she could. She had some new friends and she was busy with commissions. A small piece on her work was featured in British
Vogue
, and the sheikh who she had met with Gus had contacted her the day before to ask if she would fly to Dubai to paint his wives and children. Yes, life was definitely looking up.
‘Perrette’s moving to New York. It’s all anyone can talk about,’ Jonas sounded like he was about to explode with the news.
For a short moment Cinda’s heart leapt, and then she took hold of her thoughts.
‘Okay. That doesn’t change anything for me,’ she said as she sank onto one of the benches in the atrium.
‘It means he’s not marrying the Parrot. That’s a good thing.’
Cinda thought for a moment. ‘So she’s decided not to continue the pregnancy, I guess?’
‘You know what? I don’t think she ever was pregnant,’ said Jonas conspiratorially.
‘Huh? What makes you say that?’ she said, frowning.
‘Because we have a new fitter at the studio who was working for Hervé Leger, and she said she fitted Perrette last week and said there was no change to her bustline. You know that’s always the first thing that swells when a girl is in the blessed state.’
‘
The blessed state
?’ Cinda snorted. ‘Okay, but just because her boobs didn’t grow doesn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant.’
‘I call bullshit,’ Jonas said. ‘I think Gus caught her out so she’s run off to New York to avoid the gossip.’
‘You’re such a sucker for royal gossip,’ said Cinda, shaking her head.
Jonas giggled. ‘I know, I’m like someone from
Dangerous
Liasons
. Maybe I should get some velvet britches.’
‘You’re a velvet bitch in some britches,’ she quipped.
‘Love it!’ he said. There was a pause. ‘Have you heard from Gus?’
‘No, I haven’t and I don’t expect to,’ said Cinda. ‘Regardless of the situation with Perrette, there is no way he can fight a thousand years of history for me.’
‘History’s a bitch,’ sighed Jonas.
‘Ain’t it though?’ Cinda agreed sadly.
When they finished the call, Cinda checked her bag and coat into the cloakroom and started wandering through the gallery.
It was always hard for Cinda to choose between all the amazing art galleries in London, but at the moment the Portrait Gallery was a narrow leader. Now that her diary was filled with appointments from Alex’s friends and their friends, she wanted to get better at her craft.
But today she couldn’t concentrate as she stared unseeingly at the paintings. The news about Perrette leaving for New York had shaken her deeply. Feeling lonely, cold and heartbroken, she felt a sudden wave of homesickness.
Impulsively she walked out of the gallery and retrieved her bag and coat. Pulling her phone from the bag, she dialled her mother’s number. Allegra answered on the third ring.
‘Mum? It’s me,’ said Cinda.
‘Darling, how are you? Having fun?’
She instantly regretted calling when she heard Allegra’s voice. They hadn’t spoken for nearly two months and yet her mother acted as if she had just had a cup of tea with her yesterday.
‘I’m not great, Mum,’ she started to say, when she heard a male voice in the background.
‘Darling, can I call you back later? There’s a problem with the vines. You don’t mind do you? We’ll have a nice long chat.’
‘Are you happy, Mum?’ asked Cinda, wiping away the tear that had fallen down her cheek.
‘So happy, darling, for the first time in my life. It’s as though I was waiting for this all along.’ Her mother’s voice sounded so genuine and sure of herself, Cinda’s heart ached and her throat closed up. ‘Don’t settle like I did, Cinda,’ Allegra continued. ‘Wait for the right one, even if it takes a lifetime.’
‘Okay, Mum,’ Cinda managed to croak, wiping away another tear.
‘Come and see us here. I want you to be a part of this, darling. It’s so beautiful, and there’s so much to paint. Just come after Christmas, won’t you? Kevin’s family is coming to stay and there won’t be room for everyone if you do. He has such a wonderful big family!’ Her mother’s laugh rang out happily.
‘No problem, Mum,’ she said, closing her eyes against the hurt. So her mother was looking after Kevin’s family and forgetting about her own. She wasn’t surprised, but then why did it hurt so much?
‘I’ll call you soon, I promise.’ Allegra said as she hung up the phone.
Cinda lowered the phone slowly from her ear, staring at it, wondering what to do next. She walked away from the gallery. As she walked up Charing Cross Road, her phone rang again.
‘
Cherie
, it’s Alex. How are you?’
At the sound of Alex’s kind voice, Cinda burst into tears, ‘I’m terrible,’ she said and, through gulping sobs, she told Alex about her mother.
‘I thought she might invite me to New Zealand for Christmas but she actually told me
not
to come,’ said Cinda. ‘So now I’ll be alone for Christmas. Even Jonas is going to visit Gideon’s family in Marseilles.’
‘Come visit me here in Switzerland,’ said Alex. ‘My family really wants to meet you. We can ski and drink schnapps and laugh at the tourists trying to ski.’
‘I can’t ski,’ said Cinda forlornly.
‘Then I can laugh at you falling over,’ said Alex. ‘Come on, I’ll have my security men kidnap you if you don’t agree.’
Cinda thought about the alternative: staying in her flat, eating microwaved lasagne. She shuddered.
‘Okay, I’ll come,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Perfect,’ said Alex happily. ‘Come a few days before Christmas. I’ll get my secretary to send you the details.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cinda again. ‘I don’t know how I can repay you for all your kindness, Alex.’
‘Oh, stop it. I do it because I can and you would too in my position. Now, tell me, have you heard about Perrette?’
‘Yeah, Jonas just told me,’ Cinda said as she came to the Seven Dials, looking at the beautiful shop windows filled with Christmas gifts and decorations.
‘Has Gus called you yet?’ asked Alex.
‘No, and he won’t,’ Cinda said impatiently. ‘Why do you and Jonas think he will?’
‘Because he will, I’m sure of it,’ said Alex, but her voice sounded uncertain. ‘I mean he’s dumped Perrette, it’s huge news. That has to mean something.’
Cinda stared blankly at the shop windows. ‘Not for me,’ she said sadly. ‘To choose me, he will have to defy his mother, his country’s laws and his chances at being on the throne. I just don’t think I’m worth it,’ she said simply, without any bitterness.
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ said Alex. ‘You’re entirely worth it.’
When Cinda returned to her flat, she called Alex’s friend Margot. ‘Margot, I was wondering if you’d help me with something.’
‘Of course,’ said the ever-genial Margot. Cinda had sketched her step-siblings and Margot was thrilled with the results. She was planning on giving the picture to her parents for Christmas.
‘I’m going to Switzerland with Alex for Christmas and I need to know who’s in her family, so I can buy gifts.’
‘Of course.’ Margot listed the family members and Cinda wrote their names and ages in her sketchbook.
After she looked at the list, which took up most of a page, she knew there was no way she could afford lavish gifts for such a long list of people.
Why on earth was she even thinking of heading to the Alps with people who could buy and sell her ten times over? She couldn’t give them the kind of gifts they were used to.
She turned the page of the sketchbook and ran her hand over her sketch of Gus laughing. She remembered that on the day she’d sketched it, he’d asked her about life in Australia and she had spent the whole session speaking like Crocodile Dundee.
Making Gus laugh was almost as pleasurable as painting him. Cinda had a sudden flash of remembering his lips on hers.
Flicking the pages, she looked closely at the small sketch of a Parisian cafe, the Eiffel Tower, the Chinese bridge at Monet’s garden.
So many memories
, she thought, and then she realised she did have the perfect gift for Alex’s family at Christmas. The only thing that she could truly rely on: her art. She would frame her best sketches and write a little memory on the back for the recipient.
That sorted, only one question remained. Where on earth was she going to find a cute ski suit?
‘You cannot be serious,’ said Gus.
An hour earlier, Ludo had met him at the airport and taken him straight to the palace, where Valentina was waiting for them.
For an hour Ludo and Valentina had been trying to convince Gus of their plan.
‘I am very serious,’ said Ludo as he held Valentina’s hand.
Gus laughed in disbelief. ‘It’s the stupidest idea I have ever heard,’ he said.
Ludo bristled. ‘I suppose you have a better idea?’
‘No,’ said Gus. ‘This is our lot in life. We have to accept it.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Ludo. ‘You can try to be all noble about it, but I know you want to be with Cinda. I saw the look in your eye when you kissed her. You never looked at Perrette like that, never. Not even when we were fifteen.’
Gus stared at his brother, reluctantly admitting Ludo was right. But this was crazy, wasn’t it? Could they do it?
He looked at Valentina. ‘And you agree this is the only way?’
‘My father will not let me marry Ludo, but he would let me marry you,’ said Valentina with a cheeky grin.
‘I still don’t see how it could work,’ said Gus for the tenth time.
‘It’ll take some practice,’ said Ludo, leaning forward. ‘But I think we can do it.’
‘How?’ asked Gus, starting to think of the details that would need to fall into place for the plan to work.
‘I can cut my hair. We study each other, quiz each other, tell each other everything. Come on, we can do this. We did it enough to new nannies when we were little.’