“Good, Clara,” Libby says. “Hands are for helping, not hurting, right?”
Off to the side, I hear the Princess Dowager snort out a laugh. Apparently, she is awake after all. And I’m not the only one who heard that snort because Libby has now crossed her arms over her belly and is glaring at the old woman.
Tessa nudges James on the shoulder. “And what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”
“I shouldn’t have called you a dumb bum. That was very wrong of me.”
“Thank you,” Tessa tells James. “And thank you, Clara, for your lovely apology. Handsarefor helping.”
There’s a tense moment where everyone stands waiting for someone to say something and I see Tessa and Libby exchange glances that are somehow both conciliatoryanddisapproving at the same time. Wow. How do they do that? Women are seriously a real mystery to me.
Clara, clearly not satisfied with James’ apology, leans toward him. “You’re ‘posed to say you’re sorry too.”
“I did,” he snaps.
“No, you didn’t,” Clara tells him, with one tiny hand balled up into a fist. “You said you shouldn’t have called me a dumb bum, but you didn’t say you were sorry.”
She’s not wrong, but I really do wish she’d let it go because this is awkward A.F. and the film crew looks far too delighted. Arabella glances around, looking utterly panicked. “Who wants some booze?”
Princess Florence raises one hand in the air. “Me! And whatever you’re making, I want a double.”
Chapter 22
Let’s Get Ready to RUMMMBBBLLLLE!
Arabella
“Okay,so clearly this isn’t going the way we hoped,” I whisper to Will as the two of us quickly make Moscow mules for the adults. I’m busy slicing limes whilst he’s pouring generous amounts of vodka into several tumblers lined up on the counter in the galley. We have to be as quiet as possible because the director is sitting at the table with the recording equipment, watching everything the two cameras are picking up at all times. He’s got a headset on and is occasionally giving directions to the crew out on deck, but, knowing our luck, they’ve mic’d up the kitchen too.
“Clearly,” Will whispers back. “We have got to get the film crew off the yacht a.s.a.p.”
“Precisely, but we also need to give them some really great footage to use so they’ll scrap the fighting bits,” I tell him as I squeeze some fresh lime into the glasses then drop a slice in each one for garnish.
He gives me a look that says he’s pretty sure they’re using the fighting stuff too and I offer him a conciliatory nod. “We tried having everyone together for the cameras. Now I think it’s time to separate. Perhaps we could each interview our own family members on film. Easy questions—what was I like as a child, what sort of person did you think I’d marry, etc.”
“Brilliant,” Will answers. “That’s why I love you, Belle. You’re not just a total smoke show, you’re also part genius.”
“What do you mean, part?” I ask.
“Nothing, you’re smart. Very smart,” he whispers, sounding panicky. “I only meant because part of you is really hot and part of you is…you know what? I should probably stop now, shouldn’t I?”
“I’d say so.”
We load up a tray with the drinks, then I dig around in the freezer for some ice cream sandwiches for the kids and we head back outside. After a bit of cajoling, we manage to put our plan into action, hosting the impromptu interviews at the stern of the yacht where there’s a small table for four. Will starts to interview Emma and Pierce while I rush around playing cocktail waitress and making sure everyone’s drinks are topped up (with Libby getting a non-boozy one, of course).
Things seem to be going well for a few minutes, and even the kids are having fun together, now that they’ve filled up on ice cream. As luck would have it, all three of them are huge fans of some cartoon calledJake and the Neverland Pirates, so they’re now rushing about yelling about doubloons. I hurry back into the cabin to make more drinks and, to my delight, Libby comes with me to help. See? Wecanbe one big family unit.
Libby and I set to work and I hear the director say, “Zoom in on Prince Arthur and Tessa, but don’t get too close. I don’t want them to notice.” He fiddles with some settings and all of a sudden, I can hear Arthur’s voice. And so can Libby.
“…pushy brat. Will’s sister, the chef, tried to blame it on our kids lacking sleep. Well, it certainly wasn’t one of my children shoving anyone.”
Oh God! NO!!! Stop, please!!!!
“Don’t say that,” Tessa says. “Clara’s just having trouble controlling her temper. She’s probably not used to being around other children, but she’ll figure it out when the baby comes, I can tell you that much. That’ll be a rude awakening for her.”
“True,” Arthur answers. “Good luck with that. And no sharks in these waters? Give me a break, buddy. It’s the ocean. There are bloody well sharks.”
“He’s just trying to protect his business,” Tessa tells him.
