Chapter 13
London
Brady
“If the ravens leave the tower, the kingdom will fall.” A man dressed in a black and red uniform similar to a puffy Chanel suit explains to Hayes.
The black downy wings of a majestic raven spread as the bird digs her crusty talons into the worn leather gloves that extend up to the yeoman guard’s elbow.
The raven’s hooked beak looks like it could slice open my throat, so I take a few steps back and put the half-eaten Galaxy candy bar I’ve been munching on back in my pocket.
I take out the camera and focus on getting some shots of Hayes talking with the guard with the imposing pale walls of the Tower of London on one side and the Thames on the other.
After a few days of being here, I’ve almost recovered from my initial meeting with Aisha and the pep talk from Hayes immediately after.
Both were intense, but for entirely different reasons.
I knew the guardsman’s high-level expertise would engage Hayes in a way that meant he’d get lost in the conversation and I could get a few shots to keep Aisha happy.
I snap away as they talk and even get some video with sound.
I’m not sure their discussion of the quantities of raw liver consumed by each animal is exactly appealing to the For Us demo, but our job is just to submit the footage and let the media team package it.
“Ravens are in the corvid family. Like crows?” Hayes asks. His eyebrows merge in a horizontal line like when he’s trying to concentrate.
“That’s right.” The guard nods. “But ravens are larger, with a wedge-shaped tail, and crows tend to have more of a fan shape on their back end. Crows are more social. You’ll find them being a part of different groups. But ravens, ravens mate for life.”
Hayes looks over at me after the mate for life part.
I wonder what he’s thinking and if it has anything to do with when we thought we were mated for life, before we became platonic business partners.
The raven stretches her wings and flies off but Hayes and the guard keep talking about zoological classifications and the idiosyncrasies of an omnivorous diet.
Now my problem is getting Hayes to stop talking and go to the next location.
When he’s on a subject like this, he has no sense of time.
But right, I’m the one who has a problem with punctuality just because I wanted to wear the right mix of glitter to a basketball game once and we missed the tip-off.
It’s taken a few days to get through the itinerary that the For Us team created.
Buckingham Palace. Parliament. Westminster Abbey.
The British Museum. The London Eye. The Tate.
And honestly, Hayes is the one who has kept us on schedule – or as I have learned they say here, SHED-you-uhl.
When I wanted to stop for an iced coffee or one of those layered puddings with jam and whipped cream, he kept me moving.
But times like now, when he’s straying from the schedule, I’m the one who watches the clock.
That’s been the best part of working on this, feeling like a team again.
One of us picking up the slack when the other needs it and then reversing roles.
Unfortunately, we don’t have many pictures of us together, which is why we are headed to Once Upon a Pride, an independently owned, charming queer bookstore not far from the hotel.
I thought their drag queen story hour would make great supplemental content and give a more personal touch to the overly touristy spots on their itinerary.
I contacted the owners and they were happy to welcome us.
We hop in a cab and go over the key elements of shots we need to get.
Since this wasn’t on the itinerary, we brainstorm some ideas during the ride over and decide who will do what.
We get to the bookstore just in time for the event to start.
We set up on different sides in the back of the audience and stay quiet so we aren’t interrupting.
“And the prince and the blacksmith lived happily ever after.” Lady Sparkle Plenty adjusts her magenta wig and turns the final page of the picture book about a prince and a blacksmith who fall in love despite leading very different lives, and the audience of kids, teens and parents seated in front of her on a rainbow-striped carpet applaud.
Even though the reaction is enthusiastic, she raises her hand to her ear to prompt an even greater response and the crowd cheers and laughs.
I’m clapping louder than anyone but keep looking over at Hayes making sure he’s getting some good footage.
He gives me a thumbs up and I give him one in return.
I wait until everyone has gotten pictures and hugs then walk over to Lady Sparkle Plenty.
Her dress is trimmed with so many lime-green ostrich feathers, I think she could fly.
We’ve gone from one feathered friend to another.
“I loved that story. You were amazing. I’m Brady.
” She extends her hand for me to kiss, which I do respectfully.
I explain that we’re getting content for a queer hotel chain and that I’d love to tag her. Hayes joins me and introduces himself.
“You two are a pair of bobby dazzlers.” Her voice is low and rough with a cockney accent.
“We aren’t a couple,” Hayes jumps in. It stings to hear him say that. He’s not wrong, but I have a visceral reaction to the reminder. I take a picture of Hayes with Lady Sparkle, hoping to at least create a gesture toward fulfilling the brief from Aisha.
“We’re just work colleagues, but she doesn’t need our entire history and I want to know more about you, Lady Sparkle,” I say shifting the conversation and turning our attention to the drag queen.
L.S.P., as she likes to be called by friends and admirers, gives us permission for Hayes to grab some more media while we chat. She tells me she has been doing drag longer than I’ve been alive and I ask her how it’s changed since she started.
“You wouldn’t be caught dead going out in the daylight when I started.
I did the two a.m. show at a dingy pub in East London and that was headlining.
We were creatures of the night but now we are out and about during the day even at events like this.
With children. Which I love. I love to see their faces rapt with attention.
So much more fun than performing for a group of demon twinks.
” She rolls her eyes and then puts her hand on my shoulder. “No offense, dearie.”
“I’ve been called worse,” I say.
“Working with kids has always been something I’ve liked doing.
They’re so honest and accepting.” I feel a sudden flutter in my heart, because that’s why I love taking care of Gemma so much.
“I’m completely tame and appropriate when I’m with the children.
More like a silly granny. I save all the adult stuff for adults.
I don’t know why anyone would think I’d read a storybook to children and curse like a sailor. ”
One of the kids who was in the front row comes up to L.S.P.
, tugs on her skirt and a few feathers float off.
The girl asks her to sign the book her mom bought for her.
“I would be delighted,” she says in her most elegant falsetto and uses a pen decorated with purple jewels and pink feathers and to sign her name across the first page.
The kid’s face is nothing but a smile from ear to ear.
I feel a tug at my heart remembering how much Gemma loved her experience at the drag queen story hour I took her to.
We head out of the bookstore and Hayes takes one last picture of the square-paned display window featuring a queer assortment of everything from novels to picture books.
“Can you throw those images in the shared drive with everything else?” I ask.
“Sure. These don’t have a media container because this isn’t on the itinerary, so I’ll create a supplemental one,” he says.
“Thanks, Hayes. I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing.
I think the images we’ve sent them so far look great.
” I hope the quality of what we have makes up for the fact that there are hardly any images with both of us.
The marketing team is coming up with the captions and Aisha said they wanted a very subtle approach, so maybe it’s enough.
“Did you say you’ve been taking care of Gemma? I remember that picture of her in your room with her in pigtails and a blue dress. I bet she’s a lot bigger now.”
“She grows so fast, but she still loves that blue dress even though it’s way too small now.” I talked about Gemma a lot but I’m touched he remembers that picture. It was special to me. “She even wants to wear that dress to the wedding. My sister is trying to talk her out of it.”
“Who’s getting married?” he asks.
“Oh, some family friends,” I say, avoiding too much detail.
Maybe I haven’t been truthful about everything with this trip, but I can at least start here.
“Actually, it’s Martin Beckenberg,” I add.
Hayes raises his eyebrows. He clearly recognizes the name or perhaps he knows I’m trying to be more honest with him.
“It’s a big event in Capri. After we’re done with For Us assignment. Gemma can’t wait.”
“I know she loved it when you called her from school.” We walk past a few row houses with colorful purple and yellow petunia window boxes. “Is that what you’ve been doing since graduation? Taking care of her?”
“For the past few months, anyway. The nanny went on leave so instead of hiring someone else, I stepped in. It’s not like I was doing anything.”
“I bet you are really good at it.”
“I am,” I say with an unexpected burst of confidence. “We do nature adventures, craft projects. I took her to drag queen story hour at a local library. Once.”
“Once? Did she not like it?”