Page 14 of Tabloid Princess

“Well, it was a very odd day. And the princess, although she knew she’d never see him again, was sad to say goodbye.”

“Because she liked him?” Daisy’s question was softer, her late night already pulling her towards sleep.

“The princess didn’t really get a chance to decide.”

“It must have been love at first sight.”

I smiled as my memories slipped back to Janine’s office. That moment of absolute insanity where I stood next to the handsome man who would one day be king; watching as he dampened his excitement to go and see if Emilia Lester was in the coffee shop.

“I don’t think so, sweetie.”

“It must have been otherwise he wasn’t a real prince,” she murmured before rolling over onto her side, her gentle even breaths filling the air.

I lay still next to her, my brain whirling, processing, not quite believing, until an unsettled sleep pulled me down too and I dreamt of princes and balls and things I had no right to dream about but still did anyway.

Four

By the time I’d managed to get us both dressed and out of the house, I may as well have not bothered showering. The sun was still bright in the sky; a blue early morning expanse hung above our heads as we rushed down the postage-stamp front garden and out into the street.

“Morning, Leia.” I glanced at old Mrs Abersham who was weeding some imaginary invaders in her flowerbed.

“Morning, Mrs A,” I said as cheerfully as I could while also attempting to push Daisy further along in front of me. The last thing I needed was to get cornered by the local neighbourhood busybody. I had to get to work, and I needed coffee. I still had a steaming hot Tube ride to negotiate before I could sit at my desk and attempt to properly wake up.

Sleep chased my thoughts; my dreams had been muddled and if I was being honest, utterly bonkers. My alarm hadn’t woken me at half six as it should have. Daisy had woken me by saying, “Mummy, do you think the ice cream van will come around after school today?” Which was when I realised that I had to wake up and get her to school in the first place.

I munched on my toast, brushing the crumbs off my black T-shirt as I guided her to the bus stop. “Mummy, we can walk, it’s quicker.”

I frowned, looking down the road for any sign of an oncoming bus. “No, sweetie, remember we can’t walk along the main road because of your asthma.” The traffic was stationary, more cars than I could count pumping their noxious fumes right into my daughter’s face. I wanted to shout at them all to get a bike, but what would be the point?

“The bus will be here in a moment and we will still get to school in plenty of time,” I assured her, glancing up at the red writing flashing across the digital sign within the bus stop. Ten minutes? Were they for real? I kept in my groan and smiled down at Daisy’s worried face.

“But then you will be late. What happens if you run into the prince again?”

For a moment I stared at her unable to understand what she was saying. Then I remembered yesterday, the handsome man, the beautiful smile.

That small stab reappeared in my chest.

“Sweetie, it was just a story.” I smoothed her hair and untucked the collar of her dress. The late Indian summer meant that most of the girls were still wearing their green checked summer dresses which were so much nicer than the awful unisex tracksuit bottoms and sweatshirts they wore during winter.

Daisy folded her arms, her lips turned down at the edges. “You didn’t meet a prince?”

“Sorry, what?” I craned my neck to see if I could spot a bus around the corner. At this rate I’d have to spring for a taxi, and I could do without that sort of unexpected expense.

“The prince, you didn’t meet him?”

My eye wandered to the newsagents three shops down and I pointed at the Evening Standard sign which still held the front page of last night’s news. My stomach dropped, achingly low. “Yes, I did, that one.”

“Oooh.”

I couldn’t help but agree with her reaction. Yesterday it had been difficult to process each moment as it unravelled. Today seeing Prince Oliver’s face on the front page of a paper only confirmed what I thought at the time; it had been nothing more than a dream, a vague snatch of respite from the glaring oppressing shape of my future.

“Did he have a Rolls-Royce?”

I flickered my attention back to Daisy. “Where did you learn about Rolls-Royce’s?”

“Schooool.” I loved the way she made the vowel sounds. “We are learning about King Henry.”

It’s funny that even after meeting his son yesterday, the concept of King Henry, his father, was still only the fodder of make-believe. I mean, no normal person would say, “Oh, I’m going to meet King Henry today.” The Royal Family were elusive, distant, and if I was going to be honest, I wasn’t sure what role they still played in our society, apart from garden parties, opening things and giving an annual address which rarely touched on the real issues the people of the country were living with.