Chapter 11
EXILE
DUNCAN
London Daily Times
After settling in, The Prince of Wales officially reported to his duty station, RAF Valley, this morning on Anglesey.
The Welsh station posted pictures on social media of the Prince meeting his new commanding officer and teammates.
He looked at ease and happy to be back in uniform.
Some speculate that, like his mother, he is most at home on an air station.
RAF Valley was the Prince's home for a many years—first as a flight lieutenant and then, after transitioning to the tower, as an air traffic controller.
It was thought best he not be actively flying fast jets.
Before that, it was the place his mother had the most illustrious career as a Squadron Leader and Wing Commander—one of the first women in British history to make such a rank.
The Prince now follows in her footsteps, as a Squadron Leader.
The happy snaps portray him as a man focused on just “getting back to work”, says royal correspondent Leo Hayes.
“He is keen to get on with it and prove his worth once more,” Hayes said.
In the meantime, women across Britain weren't complaining about photos of our dear Prince of Wales once more in uniform.
Ireturned from duty to a silent house. John was likely at the pub with our housekeeper, Mandy, who worked for the family since my mother was last stationed here just before my birth. Mandy helped Mum and Dad transition to three-person-family life here. She was like a second mother to me.
Mandy left me a note in her famously beautiful script.
My darling,
Left you lasagne in the fridge. Preheat to 175 and then put in covered. Cook until it's bubbling (about 50 min). Uncover for 15 minutes until it browns. Enjoy, sweetheart! It was a long shift. Put your feet up. There is pudding in the fridge, too.
-M
It warmed my heart more than she knew. I should eat, but was restless. I knew if I sat, I'd feel worse on my day off tomorrow. It was going to be my only day of rest for more than a week. I wanted to spend it happy, and out hiking.
I decided to hit the pool set in a garden glasshouse. This was my father's demand when Mum moved them out here. If she got her jets, he got his pool. Dad still swam daily in the palace pool. Alongside my older cousins, I learned to swim there and still appreciated the distraction.
The sound of the water and the feel of my body rushing through it was a balm after a long day.
I swam gladly, thinking of how much I loathed my old-new vocation but also how I appreciated this quiet.
I hated to admit when my mother was right.
I decided to ring her when I got back in. She'd appreciate it.
I luxuriated in the calm water and focused on my breathing. Each stroke brought me more peace. I hopped out after my thirty minutes swimming against the current. My father had that installed to mimic the wild swimming in his second act as a competitive swimmer.
The more I thought about it, maybe this was my second act. I had a choice. I could get with it. But was it what I wanted? Did I want to suffer the indignity of a job I hated? Did I want to put on a happy face and do this stupid documentary?
I stepped out into the garden in my swim parka. I looked over at the sea and then noticed the light on at the little cottage where Miss Mills stayed. I hadn't seen her in two days. I wondered if she was bored to tears. She stood in the window, her figure only an outline.
I waved, trying to make it less awkward. She tentatively waved back and then rushed off. I turned, leaving back toward the house. Oh well, she now thought I was a creep looking in her windows. Brilliant!