I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 91 : A royal visit

Mycroft stepped out of the plane onto the hot and stormy weather that  had felt on the Italian capital a few hours earlier. He was one of the  last one to disembark the aircraft and the delegation he was escorting  was already half their way to the cars that were waiting for them on the tarmac.  Trying to get pass the heavy sensation of discomfort he was feeling  because of the multiple layers of clothes he was wearing, the auburn  quickly joined the convoy and climbed in the second car, the one just  before Prince William's.
The visit was planned to last only two days  but the elder Holmes was already bored about it, not seeing why his  presence beside the Prince was actually relevant and rather sure he  would have been at least twice more useful by staying in his Diogene  Club's office than by walking six feet behind a member of the Royal family. Adding to that that  he wasn't a great lover of hot weather and of endless diplomatic  encounter where, and he knew that better than anyone, nothing was ever  really discuss, especially with the Royals as they weren't allowed to  get involve with politics or to express their personal opinion about the way the Kingdom was run.
Blue lights on and escorted by the Italian police the convoy made his way to the presidential palace on the Quirinale  hill, near to the historic centre of Rome, where the president and  Prime Minister were awaiting them. The official took advantage of the  short ride to send a text to his partner to reassure him that he was  safe – omitting to say that he was probably to die of the heat in the next half an hour if he wasn't given anything to drink –  and have a look at the final detailed planning of the visit that he had  just been handled. Laughing slightly at the prospect of meeting face to  face with the Pope, a meeting that was, for an atheist gay man as he  was, one of the funniest and oddest thing he would probably experience  in his career, he readjusted his tie and prepared to exit the car as soon as the Prince will have shaken hand with the two Italians dignitaries.
As  he followed the others inside he remarked that the security was having  issues dealing with some journalists that were frustrated not being  allowed more images of the visit. Understanding that it was important to  set the rules from the beginning and to extinguish the polemic that could arise of such an incomprehension, the elder Holmes dissociated from the delegation and made his way to the side of the steps were the argument was going on.
"What's the problem ?" he enquired, asking the question as much to the security officers than to the journalists.
"Those people are fed up because they don't have more access to the Prince and were trying to follow him inside despite the clear instruction sir." one of the Italian officers replied in quite a good English.
"We've  been indicated that we will be able to ask questions to William but we  are repressed from approaching him." complained an ITV journalist.
"You will indeed be able to ask him questions during the press conferences after this visit  and tomorrow morning after the Vatican's visit and tomorrow afternoon  as he will visit the Borghese villa. It's all written down on the  program you have been given." the auburn explained patiently despite  being quite pissed at those journalists that weren't even able to read a leaflet or that if they were, were still trying to always obtain more.
"I'm sorry but who are you to order us like that ?" a woman from the Daily Mail enquired.
"Mycroft Holmes. And I'm not ordering you Madam, I'm answering to a discontent by précising  the program." the official retorted, trying not to sound to bitter.  "Now if there is no other questions, will you please excuse me."

As the visit was going on, it appeared even clearer that Mycroft presence within the British delegation was nowhere near to be required and while the Prince and the other members of his escort were enjoying a private  tour of the coliseum, the auburn had insisted to stay back, supposedly  to assure the security of the visit, in reality to contact his assistant  in London and continue to run his business. He was discussing the  issues concerning the detention of the 74 gang members arrested by  Scotland Yard the previous week, before they would be brought to court,  when he remarked the Daily Mail journalist that had engaged with him  earlier at the presidential palace, wandering around, apparently looking  for something. Still taking part in the conversation that was going on  at the same time in London, he kept an eye on the young lady, his  instinct advising him that there was definitely something odd about her behaviour.
After five more minutes of surveillance he decided to interrupt the call and try to know a bit more about what the journalist was exactly doing, not liking in the slightest her demeanour.  As he approached the woman she instantly changed her attitude and tried  to act as if she was completely fine and pleased to be there, despite  the fact she was as far as possible of all the other journalists, confirming the suspicion the elder Holmes had had over her.
"May I help you ?" he wondered, falsely candidly.
"Mr  Holmes, isn't it ?" she tried to smile, quite convincingly, but not  convincingly enough to fool the man standing in front of her.
"Yes.  Is there anything wrong ? You're quite at the opposite side of where the  visit is taking place." he asked, still putting up his candid look.
"Well, no everything is alright don't worry. I just thought my readers would like a little ... perspective and detachment on that subject." she retorted hastily.
"I  thought you were eager for any kind of interview with the Prince."  remarked the auburn, finding this little game quite amusing actually.
"Yes,  but as you said the Prince is not taking any questions before  tomorrow's press conference so ..." the young woman responded, rather  uneasy.
"So you thought that your readers would love to learn more  about Rome's old stones over being reported every move and words of  their beloved Prince." Mycroft concluded, retaining a mocking giggle.
"Well  ... hmm ... yes." the journalist replied, trying to find a way to escape  the situation. "You know, my paper is a serious one and it's readers are  interested in a huge range of subjects."
"I would have said it was a tabloid of the worst kind earning its money over people's dramas and mainly false rumours  about any kind of public figure you could find but we clearly don't  have the same point of view apparently." fake smiled the official.
"I know we may have given this impression in the past but overall we are a serious redaction." retorted the lady.
"That's not exactly what I remember of but if you say so I'll take your words for gospel. Now I strongly advise  you to let the old stones' analyses to the historians and to join your  colleagues and try to snap the best picture of this postcard visit." the  auburn concluded before stepping aside and letting the woman escape.
He  never really had appreciated journalists, least then all the tabloids  reporters, especially after he had had his name and Greg's spread all  over one of the Daily Mail's front page eleven months ago, but this  journalist was looking especially unpleasant to him and he decided that  he should probably keep an eye on her until the end of the visit, giving  in the same time an interest to his presence within the delegation.

He  actually hadn't had to look too much for her as she managed to place  herself at the same table than him on the official diner that was held  at the British Embassy on the same evening, making her surveillance way easier and the diner way less pleasant. Thankfully  for the elder Holmes, they soon were joined by a couple of Italian MPs  who quickly engaged conversation with him, allowing him to pretend not to notice the journalist's numerous attempts to engage conversation.
Anyway as they were reaching the dessert the MPs had disappeared  letting the auburn alone with the reporter and an old Italian half-deaf  politician, forcing the official to finally answer the lady's question,  considering that if he was to rude it would only encourage her to write  even more abhorrence about the visit, r even worse, about him.
"So Mr Holmes, what are you doing exactly for the Prince ?" she wondered, looking at him straight in the eyes.
"I'm  afraid I can't disclose that to the press." fake-smiled the man, hoping  that the Italian MPs were to return quickly even if he didn't had a lot of hope about it.
"Can  we pretend I'm not part of the press for five minutes maybe ?" the  woman suggested, her eye still fix on her interlocutor who was now  trying to figure out what she could possibly want from him to behave like she was.
"No. I'm here on official duties, so are you. You are a journalist, I'm part of the government, that's it, full stop." refused the elder Holmes
"So you are always this serious and professional ? You never allow yourself to go out of the character ?" wondered the journalist, moving her chair slightly closer to Mycroft's for his greatest distaste.
"Outside  from my family and friends ? Yes, and especially with so-called  journalist from scandalmongers such as the Daily Mail." retorted the  auburn, not faking to be polite anymore.
"That's  not really kind Mr Holmes. As far as I know I haven't been unpleasant  with you." complained the woman as the official stood up from his chair.
"And  trying to use me to gain access to the Prince after spreading right  bullshits about me and my family not even a year ago, how do you call  that ?" snapped Mycroft. "Good evening and I wouldn't be waiting for an  accreditation for tomorrow's visits if I was you."
He made his way to the other side of the room before escaping the noise by stepping out to the garden. If  he had first been quite offended by the young woman's attitude toward  him he was now laughing on his own at the improbability of the  situation. It took him nearly five minutes before he was actually able  to catch his breath and as he was now in a quiet part of the garden he  decided to take the opportunity to call his partner and wish him good night.
As  he was telling him about the recent event with the journalist he could  hear Gregory laughing genuinely in the living room of his house and  thought that if he had achieved to bring his lover a little joy than his  day hadn't been totally useless.