doing.’
Rosie sat down and looked away, blinking back tears.
Nick thumped a chair-back. ‘Oh, please! This isn’t fair! Come on!’
‘I don’t understand why you’re so cross with me.’
‘Because I worry about you.’
‘But if you worried about me you’d care, and if you cared you’d listen, instead of doing what everybody else in the family does and treating me as though I’m stupid.’
‘But most of the time you’re not. It’s just that every now and then you get this bee in your bonnet, and then you’re like a different person.’ He was kneeling beside her now. ‘You don’t seem like you when you do this – you’re almost a bit . . . well . . . doo-lally.’
‘I’m not!’ she wailed.
‘No, no . . . I didn’t mean you’re doo-lally, just . . . different.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘I might as well give up. Nobody really knows. Or cares.’
‘That’s not true. Look.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Let me get you a drink. What do you want? Tea? Coffee?’
‘Scotch.’
‘Scotch it is. And then you can tell me, if you want to.’
She looked up at him. ‘Depends if you want to hear.’
‘Of course I do.’ He poured her a large Scotch, and one for himself, then went over to where she sat and handed her the glass. ‘Are you sure you’ve never told anyone before?’ he asked.
She picked up on the note of disbelief in his voice. ‘I told you, your father would have laughed and your mother would have had me committed.’
‘Well, I’m all ears.’ He sat at her feet, and tried to look sympathetic, still wondering what Alex was thinking now as she drove to her hotel. The first few words washed over him, but then he was listening as Rosie told her story.
9
Royal Highness
At its best in fine weather.
‘I didn’t know anything about it until I was twenty. Until then I just thought my parents had given me away when I was a baby. They were poor and couldn’t afford to keep me. They had five children already – one more mouth to feed would have finished them off. I was brought up by a couple in Cheltenham. They told me I was properly adopted when I was about seven, but they just said that my real parents hadn’t wanted anything to do with me once I had been handed over.’
‘And you accepted that?’ asked Nick. ‘You never felt curious?’
‘Oh, I was curious all right, but in those days you had no right to see them. I did have a friend at school who somehow managed to meet her real parents and it had all gone wrong. She was torn this way and that. In a real state. So I thought, no, I’m not doing that. Then my father died when I was fifteen. It was so sad. He had a stroke, and Mum and I nursed him for months before he slipped away.’
‘Like Granddad?’
‘Yes, but it was worse in a way. I was so young. At least your granddad had had a good life. But it taught me a lot. Made me stronger, I suppose. Then, when I was twenty, Mum was taken ill. I was desperate for her to get better. She was all I had left. There were no uncles and aunts, or cousins that I knew of – anyway, they wouldn’t have been mine.’
‘What was wrong with her?’
‘Cancer, I suppose. I didn’t know at the time, but I came to realize later. Something to do with her tummy, anyway. She lay in bed getting paler and thinner and I remember knowing one day that she was going to die. Just before the end came – a couple of days before, it must have been – she said she had something important to tell me. Something I ought to know about my real family, but that it might be better if I kept it to myself. I was a bit scared. I didn’t know what she was going to say. All sorts of things went through my mind – that they might be criminals or something. Murderers, even.’ She paused.
Nick squeezed her hand. ‘Go on.’
‘She told me I hadn’t been born in Cheltenham, as I had always been told, but that I was born in St Petersburg and smuggled out of Russia as a baby to avoid a scandal. You
Rosie sat down and looked away, blinking back tears.
Nick thumped a chair-back. ‘Oh, please! This isn’t fair! Come on!’
‘I don’t understand why you’re so cross with me.’
‘Because I worry about you.’
‘But if you worried about me you’d care, and if you cared you’d listen, instead of doing what everybody else in the family does and treating me as though I’m stupid.’
‘But most of the time you’re not. It’s just that every now and then you get this bee in your bonnet, and then you’re like a different person.’ He was kneeling beside her now. ‘You don’t seem like you when you do this – you’re almost a bit . . . well . . . doo-lally.’
‘I’m not!’ she wailed.
‘No, no . . . I didn’t mean you’re doo-lally, just . . . different.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘I might as well give up. Nobody really knows. Or cares.’
‘That’s not true. Look.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Let me get you a drink. What do you want? Tea? Coffee?’
‘Scotch.’
‘Scotch it is. And then you can tell me, if you want to.’
She looked up at him. ‘Depends if you want to hear.’
‘Of course I do.’ He poured her a large Scotch, and one for himself, then went over to where she sat and handed her the glass. ‘Are you sure you’ve never told anyone before?’ he asked.
She picked up on the note of disbelief in his voice. ‘I told you, your father would have laughed and your mother would have had me committed.’
‘Well, I’m all ears.’ He sat at her feet, and tried to look sympathetic, still wondering what Alex was thinking now as she drove to her hotel. The first few words washed over him, but then he was listening as Rosie told her story.
9
Royal Highness
At its best in fine weather.
‘I didn’t know anything about it until I was twenty. Until then I just thought my parents had given me away when I was a baby. They were poor and couldn’t afford to keep me. They had five children already – one more mouth to feed would have finished them off. I was brought up by a couple in Cheltenham. They told me I was properly adopted when I was about seven, but they just said that my real parents hadn’t wanted anything to do with me once I had been handed over.’
‘And you accepted that?’ asked Nick. ‘You never felt curious?’
‘Oh, I was curious all right, but in those days you had no right to see them. I did have a friend at school who somehow managed to meet her real parents and it had all gone wrong. She was torn this way and that. In a real state. So I thought, no, I’m not doing that. Then my father died when I was fifteen. It was so sad. He had a stroke, and Mum and I nursed him for months before he slipped away.’
‘Like Granddad?’
‘Yes, but it was worse in a way. I was so young. At least your granddad had had a good life. But it taught me a lot. Made me stronger, I suppose. Then, when I was twenty, Mum was taken ill. I was desperate for her to get better. She was all I had left. There were no uncles and aunts, or cousins that I knew of – anyway, they wouldn’t have been mine.’
‘What was wrong with her?’
‘Cancer, I suppose. I didn’t know at the time, but I came to realize later. Something to do with her tummy, anyway. She lay in bed getting paler and thinner and I remember knowing one day that she was going to die. Just before the end came – a couple of days before, it must have been – she said she had something important to tell me. Something I ought to know about my real family, but that it might be better if I kept it to myself. I was a bit scared. I didn’t know what she was going to say. All sorts of things went through my mind – that they might be criminals or something. Murderers, even.’ She paused.
Nick squeezed her hand. ‘Go on.’
‘She told me I hadn’t been born in Cheltenham, as I had always been told, but that I was born in St Petersburg and smuggled out of Russia as a baby to avoid a scandal. You
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