To Marry a Prince

Chapter 5

‘Are First Dates Always Difficult?’ – Tube Talk

It was just as well, Bella thought, that she was starting a new job or she would have spent the day in a fever of ‘what ifs’ and ‘should-I-have-saids’. As it was, she had her first trial of strength with the bullying dentist and forgot for at least an hour that she was going out on a first date with the most unlikely man in the world.

When she arrived, early as she always did, the harassed woman of the day before was waiting for her in the cubby hole they called an office. She presented Bella with notes in a range of handwriting and legibility. And fled.

It did not take her long to work out that the appointments system was a mess, the staff roster worse, and the outstanding queries on bills, orders and even lost property went back months. The filing was laughable. But Bella had not spent the best part of a year counting fish for nothing. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was organise data. She made a list of the jobs to be done and consulted a friendly hygienist on what to do first.

‘Get the appointments straight,’ said Anya with feeling. ‘The best receptionist we ever had used to telephone people the day before to remind them. These days I get at least one missed appointment a day, sometimes more.’

‘Right,’ said Bella, bringing appointments to the top of her list.

Anya leaned over the counter watching her. ‘Nice idea, but you’ll never make it stick. Mulligan the Magnificent will come steaming out and make you drop everything to do something he wants.’

She was right. Between checking patients in, directing them to the waiting room, making out their bills and taking payments, Bella straightened out appointments for the next day. Two patients said they’d changed their appointment; one had a broken leg and was in hospital, the others were grateful. She had two left to go when Mulligan appeared at her desk.

‘You’re not supposed to make phone calls,’ he told her disagreeably.

‘They’re phone calls to patients.’

‘Well, you should ask me first.’

Bella just looked at him.

He started to bluster. She sat there with her hands folded and listened.

When he finished she said, ‘I have established that you have three appointments tomorrow where patients will be unable to turn up, Anya has two cancellations and Mr Page has one.’

‘What?’

Silently she swung the screen round so he could see.

‘Ridiculous! Patients are so irresponsible. Bill them anyway.’

‘Difficult to do that when it’s our fault. Two have already rebooked, but someone here forgot to take out the original appointment.’

There was a stand-off.

‘Then book someone else in,’ he snapped at last.

Bella gave him a sweet smile. ‘You mean, you give me permission to make a phone call or two?’

If he’d been a horse he would have thrown back his head and neighed with frustration.

‘Bastard,’ said Anya with satisfaction, emerging from the hygienist’s suite. ‘Well done, you.’

So Bella went home, cautiously pleased, and when Lottie asked, ‘How was your day?’ said, ‘First round to me.’

‘First round?’

‘There will be others. I’ve worked for the Mulligans of this world before.’

‘You’ll handle it,’ said Lottie. ‘Now what are you wearing tonight?’

Bella had been thinking about that and had worked out a strategy. ‘Nothing too fancy,’ she said firmly. ‘First dates are a minefield. I want to feel comfortable. I did buy some shoes at lunch-time though.’

Lottie approved the cute patent T-bars she had picked up but was disappointed by her refusal to dress up in full party fig. But in the end she sighed and agreed that Bella was probably right.

‘But no jeans,’ she warned. ‘You don’t know where he’s taking you and some places don’t let in people wearing jeans.’

Bella raised an eyebrow.

‘OK, they’d probably let the Prince of Wales in. But you’d have everyone staring, like one of those horrible Bateman cartoons. The Woman Who Wore Jeans at Club Exclusive. You’d hate it.’

So when Richard arrived, Bella was ready in a pair of waist-hugging cigarette pants over an old silk camisole top of Lottie’s. She had found a short, fitted blazer on her Oxfam trawl. It was covered in a spray of small black beads and was one of those classic vintage numbers that managed to look both chic and casual all at once.

‘Actually, I like it,’ said Lottie, inspecting her critically. ‘Not coming from a charity shop would have been a real bonus. But you’ll definitely do.’

She even allowed Bella out with only the minimum of make-up, on the grounds that her Indian Ocean tan was as good as anything that came in a bottle.

‘Jewellery?’

But Bella had none. She’d not taken any to the island with her and she was still living out of her backpack, with a few supplements. ‘I’ll pick up all my stuff at the weekend,’ she promised.

Lottie was desperate to lend her some pearl earrings but Bella hooted with laughter and told her to get real.

‘I’m not a Jane Austen heroine. Pearls are for historical novels and grandmothers.’

‘Well, you need something. Otherwise you’ll look as if you’re going for a working lunch or something.’

‘In this jacket?’

Lottie admitted it would be a bit sparkly for the office but they settled on a pair of golden chandelier earrings from Lottie’s extensive bauble collection, just to add a sparkle or two more.

First dates always have their awkward moments and Bella braced herself. But Richard was perfectly at ease from the moment she opened the door to him. He kissed her on both cheeks, quite naturally, and flapped a cheerful hand at a hovering Lottie, saying, ‘Do you mind if we push off now? I’ve parked a bit adventurously.’

‘Sure,’ said Bella, surprised but obliging. ‘’Bye, Lotts.’

He held the door open for her and grinned at Lottie. ‘See you later.’

Which very neatly established that he would be back tonight and so would Bella.

She told him so as they went down the stairs. ‘God, you’re smooth.’

He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘That sounds as if you don’t approve.’

She shook her head. ‘Not at all. It will be a new experience.’

He was right about his parking. He was nearly blocking a garage entrance and the front wheels were definitely on a double yellow line.

‘Anti-social,’ he said ruefully. ‘But I’d been round three times and there was nowhere else. And I didn’t expect to be long. Thank you for being ready to go.’

‘You’re welcome.

The car was an unremarkable saloon. No Royal Standard, no fancy number plates, Bella was relieved to see. Richard held the door open for her and she got in. He slid into the driving seat and they were off.

He drove down to the Embankment and turned west along the river. So he wasn’t taking her into town then.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Small restaurant, run by a man I know. I hope you like it. Later you shall tell me all the things you like to eat, where you like to go, what you enjoy doing. But tonight I had to guess.’

‘Great. I love surprises.’

She was taken aback all the same. When he passed up on Mayfair, she braced herself for some Michelin-starred foodie’s paradise in a smart village. But the restaurant was in an outer suburb, in a set of arches under a railway line. It had candles set on old sherry barrels in the bar area, and red-checked tablecloths.

The greeter at the door seemed to know him. ‘Mr Clark. Table for two. This way.’

‘Mr Clark?’ said Bella, when they were seated.

He pulled a face. ‘My brother George’s idea of a joke. Kent Clark. Superman backwards.’

‘So are you always Mr Clark when you go out on the razz?’

‘Sometimes.’

The waiter brought them two menu cards and Bella saw the food was Spanish.

‘What would you like to drink? Sherry is the house speciality but you can have a cocktail or proper champagne, not just Spanish fizz, if you’d rather.’

‘My grandmother drinks sherry. I don’t think I’ve ever tried it. Deal me in.’

It was the start of a wonderful evening, low-key and very friendly. Maybe first dates didn’t have to be so fraught after all, she thought. Plate after plate of exotic tapas was put on the table, along with wonderful crusty bread. She and Richard swapped tastes and dipped their bread in the same earthenware dishes of sardines, and oil and olives, and wonderful oniony potato cakes, and, of course, paella. She got olive oil on her chin. Richard blotted it for her, and it was like a caress. The food was so delicious that when the patron chef emerged from the kitchen to tour the tables, Bella could genuinely tell him the paella was the best she’d ever tasted. He beamed.

Richard was equally pleased. ‘OK. That’s a good start. You like Spanish food. What else? Thai? Italian? Tell me.’

Bella thought about it. ‘I’m pretty much of an omnivore. I don’t like squid because of the idea of it or okra because it’s slimy. Oh, and I wouldn’t want to eat hare because they dance. But that’s about it, I think.’

He nodded gravely. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. And where are your favourite places?’

‘Depends. I like the Downs in the early morning when the sun’s coming up, you know, and the dew is sparkling on the fields. And I like ruins like Minster Lovell and Warkworth Castle.’

He stared.

‘What?’

‘Ruins.’ He shook his head.

‘What?’

His shoulders began to shake. ‘I meant,’ he said when he could speak, ‘where do you like to go for entertainment? I was thinking of where we go next. Along the lines of clubbing and so forth. Food. Dancing. Maybe ten-pin bowling at a pinch. Ruins is a new one.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Bella was rueful. ‘Well, I’ve never been much of dancer. I’ve got two left feet and I tend to flail with drink taken.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of competitive ballroom activity,’ he assured her.

‘Oh, well, in that case,’ she said, relieved, ‘I can stomp around on the dance floor like anyone else, I suppose. Before I went away, I used to go clubbing with the girls every few weeks or so.’

He stared at her, fascinated. ‘But you prefer ruins really?’

‘I think I do,’ she said reflectively. ‘Is that odd?’

‘You’re a romantic,’ he said on a note of discovery. ‘Who’d have guessed?’

‘No,’ she said, revolted. ‘Practical twenty-first-century woman, me.’

And started telling him about her new job. He laughed at the idea of her being paid a Pig’s Premium because the boss was so vile.

She shrugged. ‘I can handle him.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’

‘Well, I’ve handled worse. And if I stuck the island for ten months, I can manage Dentist Hell. At least there’s a going home time when I can see friends and read books.’

‘The island was real hell, then?’

‘Not all of it. But I went because I was sort of stuck on the guy who was running it and he turned out to be—’

‘A pig?’

She thought about Francis, noble and disorganised and just a bit too sure of his charm.

‘No not a pig. But, well, shallow. You know? With an enormous appetite for being waited on, preferably well-larded with breathless admiration. I got tired of saying, “Francis, you’re so clever.”’

He winced. ‘Poor guy.’

‘Not poor guy at all,’ said Bella robustly. ‘He keeps sending me texts saying he can understand why I’ve had a crisis. But when I come to my senses I’m welcome back, and anyway he will always be there for me.’

‘There’s something wrong with that?’ said Richard cautiously

Bella was scornful. ‘It’s code for, “Come back and sort out the files.” I told you, Francis is high-maintenance. Never logged any data himself since the day he found he could get his devoted students to do it for him.’

‘Ah.’

‘What?’

‘You’re very clear-sighted, aren’t you? Not quite so much a dyed-in-the-wool romantic as I thought.’

‘I told you, I’m not romantic.’

‘Wanna bet?’

But Bella backed away from that one. This might be the most relaxed first date she had ever been on, but there was a look in his eyes that was not relaxed at all. And if there was one thing an unromantic, sensible woman did not want to do, it was mess up her life by falling for an unavailable man. And they didn’t come much more unavailable than the heir to the throne.

She said lightly, ‘You’d lose your money. Don’t forget, I lived on a tropical island – and counted fish.’

‘There is that.’ He leaned forward. ‘So what next for you? I assume Frankenstein the Dentist is only a – er – stop gap.’

Bella was drinking Rioja at the time and nearly choked. ‘That is a very bad pun,’ she said reproachfully, when she got her breath back.

He looked wounded. ‘I thought it was rather good for the spur of the moment.’

‘Well, maybe,’ she allowed. ‘And, yes, I’m looking for a proper job, too. But that will take time.’

‘What sort of job? Something adventurous?’

She sighed. ‘I think I’m off adventure. I like being clean too much. And keeping in touch with people. My father will drum me out of the Greenwood family.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘He’s an explorer. Arctic wastes, deserts, Mongol plains. As long as it’s remote, uncomfortable and deserted, he’s in seventh heaven. His mother, my Granny Georgia, is an ecologist, who keeps popping off up the Amazon to save the rain forest.’

Richard was not interested in Georgia, though. He sat bolt upright. ‘Greenwood? You’re not H. T. Greenwood’s daughter?’

‘Yes,’ said Bella sadly.

Hitherto Richard had seemed quite perfect. But she had seen that look before on the keen-eyed groupies who came to her father’s lectures. Who would have thought the Prince of Wales was a fan of old Finn’s?

‘He’s an inspiration,’ said Richard in hushed tones, confirming it.

Bella sighed, torn between pride, loyalty, and a bedrock desire not to lie to this man. ‘Hector Toby Greenwood. Known as Phineas, because he ran away and went round the world when he was supposed to be at school. Yes, that’s the Daddy. He has his moments.’

Richard studied her for a moment. And then he surprised her. ‘Hard act to live up to?’

She felt warmed. ‘Yes, that’s it exactly. My brother Neill refused to try. Told everyone he was a homebody and wanted to teach. Finn never argued, to be fair. Never tried to talk him out of it, not even when he said he didn’t want an exciting gap year travelling, just wanted to get on with his life.’

‘So you were the one left carrying the Greenwood banner?’

Bella was struck by this. ‘I’ve never thought of it like that. You could be right.’

‘I know I’m right. Welcome to the club.’

But Bella was still thinking about the Greenwood inheritance. ‘Do you know, I was even named after a nineteenth-century explorer.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. There was never an explorer called Bella. What’s your real name? Augustus?’

‘You’re wrong there. Isabella Bird was the first female fellow of the Royal Geographical Society.

‘Never heard of her.’

‘You’ve missed a good thing,’ said Bella with enthusiasm. ‘She was a phenomenon. Half the time she reclined on a couch or stayed at home with Mama and did good works. And the other half she would pack her bags and go travelling. After Mama died, she went round the world. She was passionate about horses and rode all through the Wild West in the days when it still was wild. Possibly had an affair with a Davy Crockett type and maybe another one in Japan with her translator, who was less than half her age. She went to Persia, Ladakh, Tibet, Hawaii, all round the States. Wrote some pretty good books. My father always says she was an anti-colonialist and bent Gladstone’s ear about it.’

Bella stopped dead, suddenly realising where her enthusiasm had led her.

‘Er … I probably ought to tell you. I mean, it’s not going to matter, you’ll probably never meet him, but my father is a conviction Republican. Doesn’t hold with monarchy. Or empire. But mostly he just hates kings and queens.’

Richard stared at her for an unnerving minute. She had the impression of his brain working very fast to process a lot of new information. He said slowly, ‘You mean, he wouldn’t approve of me.’

‘Probably not. No.’

‘I see.’

‘Nothing personal,’ she added hurriedly.

He nodded. She could still sense his brain racing. ‘So you’re not going to tell him you’re seeing me?’

That sounded underhand somehow. ‘Well, I don’t see him very often, and he’s not a great one for writing. The subject probably won’t come up.’

‘Don’t see him? How come?’

She explained about her parents’ divorce and moving to Hampshire with stepfather Kevin.

‘But you still try to keep up the Greenwood traditions?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. I was sort of always Daddy’s girl.’

‘Ah. Do you ever travel with your father?’

She was shocked. ‘Good heavens, no. He wouldn’t have me. You need full survival training to go anywhere with Finn. Not to mention the patience of a saint, an orderly mind, and a determination to Stick to the Plan. Finn tends to be impetuous.’

Suddenly Richard was amused. ‘Very clear-sighted,’ he murmured.

She was conscience-stricken. ‘Do I sound mean?’

He shook his head. ‘Beautifully honest.’

‘Oh. Good. I think.’

‘Good, definitely.’ He paused. ‘So you’re Daddy’s girl but you’re not going to tell him about me?’

Bella looked down at her plate. This was the crunch then. The point in each first date when you had to decide whether there was going to be a second one.

She swallowed. ‘I’ve been away a long time and I’m still a bit disoriented. I need to find my feet again. Get a job, see where I’m going. I’m not looking for a full on relationship—’

He sat very still. ‘So thank you for a nice evening and goodbye?’

NO, screamed something inside her.

‘Does it have to be so black-and-white? Can’t we just enjoy each other’s company and see where it goes?’

He looked at her for a long, unnerving minute.

‘I mean, do you usually rush off to tell your parents every time you meet a new girlfriend?’

‘I’m twenty-nine years old. I don’t often tell my parents anything. Anyway, there are plenty of people to do it for me. Starting with the Press.’

‘Oh.’ She hadn’t thought of that. ‘Of course. Like that piece in the Despatch on Monday. That’s when I first recognised you, actually.’

He pulled a face. ‘Well, at least we had two days when I was just me.’

‘Hmm.’ She was remembering the blonde in the backless dress. ‘Who was the girl you left with?’

‘Chloe Lenane. Our families have known each other for ever. Her aunt is one of my mother’s ladies-in-waiting. She’s like another sister.’

He raised a hand and a waiter materialised beside them. ‘Would you like anything more? A brandy? Coffee? Something sticky?’

She didn’t care. But she knew the evening wasn’t ending yet. ‘Anything.’

‘Madeira for my guest,’ he said to the waiter. ‘Black coffee for me.’

When the man had gone Richard leaned back. ‘Do you know what has been really different about tonight?’

She shook her head.

‘You haven’t once said, “So what is it like being Royal?”’

‘I’ve talked all about myself,’ said Bella, instantly conscience-stricken.

‘You’re missing the point. You answered my questions. You asked some of your own. As if this was just like any other date you’ve ever been on.’

She was puzzled. ‘So? How else—?’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I like it. I just don’t think it’s ever happened to me before. But there’s this bloody great elephant in the room and you’re refusing to see it.’

‘What?’

He leaned forward. His voice was low and intense when he answered. ‘OK. Tonight’s an ordinary date for you. Do you know how much management and sheer f*cking ingenuity went into delivering it?’

She shook her head, open-mouthed.

He ticked off the points on his fingers. ‘Rented car. Not rented by me, obviously. A friend of my security guy is the name on the ticket. I left wearing his jacket and flat cap.’

Suddenly Bella remembered the man in the park, with his all-weather coat and cap, standing in the cold sun.

‘You brought him to Battersea Park with you, didn’t you?’

‘Strictly speaking, he brought me. Drove me there and back. Kept an eye out for the paparazzi all the time we were there.’

‘Oh.’

‘You wanted to know why I was togged up like a Hollywood assassin on Monday. Well, that’s the answer. So there wouldn’t be any pictorial evidence.’

Suddenly she felt completely out of her depth.

‘Look, Bella, people recognise me. They take photos of me on their cellphones. I don’t have a private life.

And if you and I try to have a let’s-see-where-this-takes-us deal, you won’t either.’

The waiter brought their drinks.

At once Richard sat back, smiling again and talking about a movie.

But the moment the waiter had gone, he said in a low voice. ‘I could only take you out this evening because there was nothing in the diary. I’ve given the staff the night off. Ian is sitting in my flat, watching my television and pretending he’s me. But if anything blows up and someone comes to find me, he’s toast. His career’s gone. And the Press and possibly the security forces will start looking for the woman I spent the evening with. Do you see?’

‘I – never thought,’ she answered in a small voice.

‘Well, think now.’

Bella stared at him, all the lovely laughter and intimacy gone. She didn’t know what to say.

He gave a tired smile. ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything. I can see you’re not a paparazzi sort of girl. I always knew it really. Don’t worry about it. No harm done.’

She could have cried.

He drove her home in silence.

When they got there she said, ‘Why don’t I just jump out here? You’ll never find a parking place and—’

‘I took you out, I’ll see you home.’

Bella recognised finality when she heard it. She didn’t argue.

It was chilly now, with autumn taking hold. She was shaking so much, she couldn’t get the key in the lock. For a while he stood beside her on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his coat. But eventually he took the keys from her gently and unlocked the door himself.

She thought he would say goodbye then. She even turned to him for a good-night kiss. But he held on to the keys and they both went upstairs.

The flat had that indefinable air of being deserted. It was silent and not quite in darkness. There was a low light from the sitting room and, when they went in, they found the fire glowing and a tray of unlit candles on the mantelpiece.

‘Oh, Lottie!’ said Bella.

But Richard knelt and lit the candles, then put the tray on the table beside the armchair. He added another log to the fire, for good measure. Bella took his coat and discarded her own jacket.

‘A drink? More coffee?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

But he didn’t go. And Bella didn’t want him to. She went over and put her arms round his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder. He put his arms round her.

She did not know how long they stood there in the semi-darkness, just holding each other. How could it hurt this much to say goodbye, when they’d only just met? It was ridiculous. But Bella still didn’t let him go.

It was he who moved first.

‘Bella—’

‘Don’t go.’

She was nearly voiceless but he heard.

‘Oh, love.’ He sounded shaken.

She kissed him with a sort of fury. For a moment, just a moment, he responded totally. Then he let her go and stepped away.

She could not believe it. Reached for him. ‘Why not? What does it matter, one night, in the scheme of things …’

‘Don’t.’ It came out like a pistol shot.

And stopped her dead

He ran a hand through his hair. He was breathing like a marathon runner, she saw.

‘You made a good decision tonight, Bella. Don’t complicate it.’

He was going, reaching blindly for his coat as he went, not looking back. She said his name in a disbelieving whisper. But all she heard was the front door opening and closing behind him.