Chapter Sixteen 2012 #2
Her head fell forward so her face was obscured by a curtain of hair. “I’m just doing them a favour, Lexi. I go, they get a picture of me and Louis together, everyone thinks we’re an item. It’s just misdirection.”
“And how long do you plan to do this for?” I asked Louis, ignoring her. “Are you going to pretend Amira’s your girlfriend forever?”
“What do you want me to do, Lexi? Come out to the world?” He sat up but refused to look at me. “You know I can’t do that.”
The question of coming out was one we’d discussed often after that first conversation at the Scottish estate.
Louis, who’d had far longer to ponder the issue, was set in his belief that it was impossible.
But I was desperate for there to be a way.
I had even surreptitiously pulled a few books on UK constitutional history from the Astley library, hoping to glean some wisdom from their pages.
We had learned as children that our kingdom had no written constitution.
If that were true, then how hard could it be to declare that the boy who would one day be king had no need for a queen?
But no matter how many shiny crowns we wore and how many balconies we waved from, ours was an institution built on ruthless conservatism.
If Louis came out as gay, it would trigger a crisis in the church and the state.
I had no doubt it was a fight worth having, a fight we could win with a groundswell of public support.
But it was Louis’s choice, and he didn’t want to be the one to do it.
“There’s a thousand girls in London right now who’d grind up on you in a club,” I said. “Why do you need to use Amira? You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? Have you read a tabloid recently? Have you thought about how all this looks for Amira if you get found out?”
“Hey,” Amira said sharply, “I can look after myself.”
Amira now appeared on the Daily Post website every other day, whether she was walking into Maddox Club with Louis or shopping on Old Bond Street with Vikki.
She was quickly becoming one of the most famous girls in Britain, described by the tabloids as “exotic” and “ethnically mixed.” A right-wing MP caused a mild furore after he claimed Amira could not be trusted because she wasn’t “British.” A breakfast television host wondered aloud if we should expect her to wear henna on her hands if the relationship with Louis went all the way to Westminster Abbey.
His co-host responded that at least their children would “keep a nice tan all year round.” With their relationship neither confirmed nor denied by the palace, the royal household remained silent on all the hateful things being said about the woman shielding the heir.
“Lexi,” Louis said, “you said you’d support me no matter what.”
“I didn’t mean something like this.” I looked at Kris, who was still lying in the chaos of Amira’s bed. “Are you really okay with this? Were you part of this? Or was he talking your little sister into this when we weren’t looking?”
“Hey,” Louis said. “That’s enough.”
Kris considered me coolly, his phone now placed against his chest. His feelings on our predicament had always been a mystery to me.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it, Lexi. You have no idea what it’s like for any of us. No matter what you do, you can just go running to Daddy and he’ll clean up all your messes, won’t he?”
An unbearable stillness filled the room.
Hurt beyond words, I looked to Louis, but my brother still would not meet my eyes.
We had made a pact of secrecy, and I thought that meant something.
More than our twin connection or our tragic mother, I believed it was our secrets that bound us.
I dared not look at Amira, because if he had told her my secret as well, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.
It had once been the four of us. But now he needed them more than he needed me.
Blindly, I rose, grabbing my backpack as I left. No one called after me. When the lift opened on the ground floor, I found Vikki walking through the front door, huge sunglasses on her face and a row of orange Hermès shopping bags on her arm.
“Oh, darling, are you off?” she asked. “I thought you and Louis were staying for dinner.”
“I have to go,” I muttered.
She put her bags down on the floor and gently took me by the wrists. In the year since Mum’s death, I had veered between craving and avoiding Vikki’s touch.
“Do you know what’s going on up there?” I asked, suddenly furious. “Do you know what they’re planning?”
“Lexi, what do you mean?”
I hesitated, still bound by my vow to Louis, even if he was not. Finally I spoke. “Amira’s going to fly to Chile to be with Louis in the summer.”
“Yes,” she said, unsurprised.
A maid was lurking on the steps behind us, wondering whether to come collect the shopping bags or make herself scarce. Vikki shooed her away.
“Yes,” she said again, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head and staring into my eyes. “It’s a beautiful thing she’s doing for her brother.”
I gaped at her. “You know.”
“Yes. For a while now.”
“And you’re okay with them using Amira like that?”
She dropped her head for a moment, thinking.
She was so calm that I realised she must have known about Louis and Kris for far longer than I might have guessed.
Had they gone to her seeking advice? Had she known before Amira and I did?
She was the first person I would go to if I had an unsolvable problem.
But then I realised that wasn’t quite right.
The first phone call I had made was to Papa.
“My son is a gay British Indian boy who’s in love with the future king,” she said. “If that becomes public knowledge, it’ll be difficult for everyone. But do you know how awful it will be for Kris? What they’ll say about him? What they’ll do to him? Amira can protect him.”
“But what about her life?”
Vikki took me by the hands again. “This is not forever—it’s just for a little while. And I know that you’re savvy enough to see how it would help her prospects to be linked to your brother.”
I wanted to shake her. Everyone wanted to join the swirling nebula of our family. No one seemed to realise there was a gaping, insatiable black hole at its centre. By the time they were trapped in our orbit, it was too late to free themselves.
“Vikki, this entire plan depends on Louis and Kris breaking up, and everyone going on with their lives. What happens if they stay together?”
She smiled mournfully. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. My son is in love with someone under impossible circumstances. I’m doing my best to protect him.”
“You’re doing that at Amira’s expense,” I said. “You said it was up to me to look out for her. I’m telling you. This is a mistake.”
Vikki brushed my cheek, and it was then I realised I was crying. “Darling, I know you’re thinking of your mum right now, but this is different. Amira has a family to protect her.”
I thought of Mum: a motherless girl whose father had often forgotten she existed.
When they had found her body, she was floating in a huge nest of sargassum.
That’s why the search took so long—they didn’t notice her at first, nestled among the seaweed.
I couldn’t stop thinking of her long, dark hair intermingled with the algae.
Would things have ended differently if her parents had loved her enough?
“I can’t be a part of this,” I said and opened the Shankars’ front door.
“Lexi,” Vikki called as I hurried down the steps and onto the street, my security detail giving chase to keep up with me. “What are you planning to do, Lexi?”
But I was already running. I didn’t stop until I was in Tasmania.