Aleksey wasn’t sure what Ben was expecting when the future queen made her visit that afternoon, but a small rowboat coming in from a unprepossessing fishing smack in the bay rowed by a single young sailor with Phillipa in what appeared to be her gardening clothes with a number of large plastic carrier bags, clearly wasn’t it.
He obviously wasn’t expecting the, ‘Hello, Ben, darling. At bloody last. You look even yummier than ever,’ and then the, ‘What the hell has happened to you!’ as she peered at Aleksey’s face, nor the, ‘You really should keep a closer eye on him, Ben. He’ll be wearing Viking runes next and raiding smaller islands. Possibly spread-eagling a few peasants if they so much as look at him askance. Right, I’ve brought a spot of tea. I knew you two useless lumps wouldn’t have any decent nosh.’ She waved off the rowing boat and handed Ben her bags. ‘So, show me this bloody island you stole from us.’ Aleksey gave Ben a tiny smirk behind her back—see I was right (as usual); this wasn’t so hard, was it?—and left him to his bewilderment.
They started with Guillemot, obviously.
Phillipa immediately declared, on being led around to the front, ‘Lutyens—you’re quite right. This design is almost identical to Coleton Fishacre in Devon. Have you been there? National Trust now. Sweetest little shop. Nothing I used to enjoy more than popping into a National Trust shop. Hey ho, we can’t have everything in life.’ She linked arms with Ben. ‘Come on, let’s have tea. I’m bloody starving, and I knew you would be. I’ve brought you some clotted cream from one of our farms in Cornwall and strawberry jam we made this summer, scones of course—cook whipped those up last night—hmm, what else…?’
It was a charm offensive. They’d concocted it together when they’d planned the visit. He’d made the obvious suggestion how she could break down Ben’s resistance, and she’d laughed and agreed—through his stomach. And chatter. Ben was too polite, too in awe of her still, to interrupt her when she was on a roll, and as she’d told him, she’d cracked far harder stones than Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen.
When they entered the house, she strode immediately into the large drawing room and then exclaimed in delight on spying the rocking horse, ‘Oh, he’s rather splendid. What’s he called?’
Aleksey saw Ben roll his eyes, and smirked inwardly. He’d been regaled with the story of the horse-naming when he’d returned from his day trip to Exeter on their family holiday. When Ben and the moron had moved the toy down to the drawing room, as Molly didn’t like being left alone in the attic to ride him, Ben had apparently suggested to his daughter she call him Puffin, which he’d thought pretty clever, given they had these cute birds nesting on the cliffs and also given its double meaning—horse galloping and…puffing. The baby tyrant had only stared at him in complete derision and declared, ‘He’s calledShadowfax, Daddy. He says he’salwaysbeen called Shadowfax.’
So, reluctantly, Ben was forced to utter his first word, one which annoyed him already. ‘Shadowfax.’
Phillipa considered this and announced, ‘Good name for any horse.’ She gave him a pat and a rock. ‘Did you know Scilly is believed to be the inspiration for Middle Earth?’
Ben’s brows lowered. He clarified hesitantly, ‘Scilly inspired New Zealand?’
Phillipa thought about this for a moment. Aleksey wasn’t going to help her out. He enjoyed many such conversations with Ben. She shook herself with a polite smile and chirped brightly, ‘Have you read the books? Awfully long, I thought—could have done with a bit of editing.’ She spied the bookshelves and went over. ‘Oh, how sweet.Velveteen Rabbit. Now that’s more like it. I used to absolutely love this one. We had it in the nursery.’
Ben, on surer ground now, but still glancing suspiciously at the horse, muttered as he walked over to her, ‘I’m building up a library for Molly.’
‘Ah, speaking of the devil…’ Phillipa took the largest bag off his arm and rummaged in it. ‘I bought this for her.’ She handed over an impressively large and heavy package.
Ben put down all the bags of food and took it. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you. You didn’t have to.’
She waved this off, examined the food bags, and held up the tub of cream. ‘So, shall we?’
Whilst Ben was preparing the tea, Aleksey took her on a quick tour of the rest of the rooms. They’d owned and run a huge manor house together, so naturally found the entire subject of Guillemot equally fascinating. She exclaimed over the view from the large picture window at the top of the stairs, agreed with him that the attics had probably been servants’ quarters, tried to peer out of one of the roof windows to the grass tennis court but wasn’t tall enough, looked in each bedroom, approved Enid’s bed and armchair, but declared he needed to buy a great deal more furniture, and soon—and if he wanted some of the Barton Combe stuff to just let her know—and stood for a while regarding their trashed bed, until he ushered her swiftly away. It was in a worse state than the one they’d lain in together once after particularly odd and physically exhausting sex, so this discovery naturally delighted her.
As they rummaged in some of the boxes in the attic, she commented dryly, ‘He seems on top form.Somethingis clearly agreeing with him.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Does he actually get better looking every year, or is that just me seeing a bit of a contrast these days?’
‘No, he does.’
‘Top notch plan, by the way.’
‘I always have good plans. You of all people should know this.’
‘Uh huh. So, that scar was a deliberate ploy, was it?’
He smirked. ‘Of course.’
‘One of your old Russian colleagues?’
‘No. Duelling with pistols at dawn over a point of honour. A fraction of an inch the other way and I would be dead.’
‘Or silent. That’s always a bonus.’
‘Ack, you’d miss my calls.’
‘I try to miss them now. Hah, look.’ She pulled out the recorder from the box of instruments and played a quick rendition of Baa Baa Black Sheep. ‘That’s all I can remember.’ He didn’t want to point out who might also have had his lips around that instrument so let her enjoy it. By the time they returned via the scullery, which she declared would make adarling little flower room, Ben had taken the food and a pot of tea to the patio.
He was sitting, chin on hand, staring out over PB’s beach. He stood politely when Phillipa appeared and didn’t, as far as Aleksey could tell, appear to be wondering what they’d been doing upstairs for so long. It was odd to feel entirely innocent. Quite novel.
