Royals: Part 8

Chapter 18

Jackie scrubbed at her teeth with her toothbrush, staring at her reflection in the mirror of her and Harry's Balmoral suite.

Her eyes were swollen, her complexion sallow. She scrubbed harder.

There was a knock on the door. Jackie spit toothpaste and blood into the sink, rinsing it away before she called, "Come in."

Harry peeked inside, looking tired. "How are you?"

"Okay," Jackie said. "Confused. Okay."

"I can't imagine what you're feeling," Harry responded. He stood in the doorway, looking very much alone. Jackie crossed the cool tile floor and pulled him into a hug, hoping they could make each other feel better. Harry spoke into Jackie's hair. "My grandmother would like to see you."

"Just me?" Jackie asked.

"I spoke with her earlier this morning, while you were sleeping," Harry explained. "I was up by 5:30, I don't think I ever fell asleep."

"Neither did I," Jackie admitted. "I can't."

"Maybe you should call Dr. Brown, ask her if there's anything you can take," Harry suggested.

Instead of her usual reluctance to be cared for, to be worried about, Jackie just nodded. "I will."

Harry gave her a peck on the cheek. "Granny's in her sitting room, when you feel up to it."

She dressed in a simple black maternity dress, pulling her hair back from her face with a headband. The walk from the Windsor's suite to the Queen's sitting room was short.

A butler waited outside. He greeted Jackie with a bow of his head and opened the door with one practiced motion.

The Queen was sitting in a floral armchair, a cup of tea in hand and corgis forming a protective ring around her. A clock ticked on the mantle.

Jackie dropped into a curtsy. As she bowed her head, she realized her feet were bare and the fresh scratches on her knees were uncovered. "Your Majesty, I look an absolute mess, I'm so sorry -- I should go back to change."

The Queen stood, crossing the room and putting a warm hand on Jackie's arm. Her blue eyes were kind, understanding. "Please, dear, sit."

Jackie sat in an armchair opposite the Queen's, keeping her bare ankles together in an attempt to look somewhat proper.

"You know, something very similar happened to me in 1982," the Queen said, watching Jackie intently.

Jackie attempted to assemble her scattered thoughts. "1982... oh. Michael Keegan, was it?"

"Michael Fagan," the Queen corrected. "I awoke to see him standing amongst my curtains. Somehow he managed to climb the fence at Buckingham Palace. He just stood there, he didn't move a muscle as I went to call a footman. It was one of the most disturbing moments of my life."

Jackie's lips were pressed in a straight line, her body felt stiff. "I know the feeling."

"I'm sure you were terrified, being pregnant, and alone. After all you've gone through." The Queen paused. "I really am very sorry."

Jackie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She sighed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm feeling rather emotional, I'm very confused--" Jackie's breath came out as a whimper. "I don't want to worry you on your holiday."

"Nonsense," the Queen said quickly. "I know you've planned to stay for a week, but you and Harry and the children are welcome to stay as long as you'd like, to get away from London and Sandringham. It's so quiet here, so secluded. I know I always feel like new after a few weeks in Scotland. We could celebrate Mary Kate and George's birthdays before William and Catherine go back to Kensington on Friday, and then you and Harry and the girls could stay here for a few weeks, just relaxing."