The Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 7

The drive to the palace should have been short, but it seemed to drag as my mind whirled away with every possible thing that could go wrong. I was like that, always had been. Alice said it was a result of my childhood, but I remembered my mum being the same. I much preferred to think that I gained my overthinking via biology and not circumstance. Although I also disagreed with the way Alice considered it to be a negative trait. I considered it to be essential.

My brain didn’t stop roaming through the worst case scenarios until we rounded the corner to the long straight road that led to the palace. The road was almost like a magical red brick road. Not quite the golden one from the Wizard of Oz, but it had the same sense of magic and destiny lurking at the end. It was only more stark because the pavements surrounding it and the palace itself had such a classical feel to them.

I could have sworn the sunlight reflecting on the palace looked different from every other time I had seen it. The sun beams seemed to be shining into the sky instead of out of it. Although, I was certain that was just the importance the building suddenly held for me.

The competition was the chance of a lifetime. Even being selected for the opportunity was an honour. I could just imagine the PR material I could draw up for the business. Cupcakes as sampled by the King of England. I could even do a line of royalty inspired cakes. The options were limitless.

For the time being, I wasn’t willing to even consider the idea of winning. I knew my chances were slim. The competition attracted bakers from around the world. I was already feeling like I was out of my league and all I had done was view a building that I had viewed hundreds of times before.

It was odd but out of nowhere, a thought came to me, “Why did they send two cars for me?”

The driver, who was one of the men who had come into the bakery, turned slightly. He was ever so slightly taller than his counterpart and his black hair had a lick of grey around his ears. “I do not know. We just followed the orders. It did seem a little odd, but they have certainly asked me to do odder things in my time with the King.”

I smiled at the idea, not to mention the edge of pride in his voice. “How long have you served the king…?” Realising that I hadn’t bothered to enquire about either of the men’s names and feeling rude. My mother would not be happy with my lack of manners.

“Ben, Ben Shellby and thirty-two years now.” He didn’t look old enough to have been working that long, even if he had started straight out of school. There was me thinking he looked old for his age with his greying hair and I was completely off the mark because apparently he looked young. I chuckled slightly as I audibly heard my father say, “Everything is relative.” I still let them guide me. It helped me feel less alone.

Two police officers stepped forward as we approached the gates and I sat forward as far as I could. Craning my neck to get a better view as the two black and whites opened the gates for us. There was a metal barricade in the middle that I had never noticed before, but it descended into the floor. It felt almost too high tech for such an old palace.

One officer nodded at Ben before we moved on again into the palace grounds. The blacked out Range Rover passed through the arch with ease and left us in the quadrangle. Surrounded on all sides by the limestone walls. I couldn’t stop myself from spinning my head around trying to take it all in. “So, Miss Spencer, are you ready?”

I looked at Ben, a little dismayed. “For what?”

“To meet the King of England. We are quite late, so I would suggest we make haste.” I looked down at myself and remembered my flour covered jeans and jam smudged pink fine knit V-neck jumper. I had just thrown them on in the morning. It hadn’t occurred to me that the day could be any different from a normal day. Any hope of being selected had long passed. For some odd reason, when I had headed upstairs to pack my things, the thought of dressing to impress royalty hadn’t crossed my mind.

Ben turned in his seat and he took in my attire, no doubt not for the first time. His expression softened completely, and I was certain he knew what was going through my mind. “I can take you in via a bathroom first if you would prefer?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. It all happened so fast. I didn’t think.”

Ben refrained from taking me through what was clearly the entrance we were supposed to use and guided me through a door to the left of us. I barely got the chance to take anything in as he manoeuvred me through with his hand resting on the small of my back. I got the distinct impression that he was bending the royal protocol for me and I couldn’t have been more grateful.

It surprised me, because he seemed like the sort to follow every rule, no matter how silly it may be. The loyalty and respect he held for the royal family was obvious, and I couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.

Before I knew it, I was standing staring into a golden coloured ornate oval mirror. My hair was a little too wild, and I quickly pulled it over my right shoulder and plaited it. Slipping the spare hair bobble off my wrist. It didn’t look much better, but my hair was always unruly.

Trying desperately to wipe my jeans and jumper down with moist toilet paper. With every swipe, it just disintegrated further and if I had been anywhere else, I would have been screaming very unsavoury words. If anything, I seemed to be making the situation worse. I opened the door again and peeked outside. Ben was standing there much too rigid and waiting for me. “I’m having difficulty with, er…” He took a look at me and must have seen the tiny rolled up pieces of toilet roll still stuck to my jumper.

He grunted slightly impatiently and shoved his hand into his pocket, removing a small navy piece of cotton. “Here. Just be quick.” He seemed to whisper the words as though my speed, or lack of it, was some sort of conspiracy.

Slipping back into the room, I held his handkerchief under the facet. I wasn’t sure people even still carried such things anymore, but somehow the fact that he did just gave him more of a protective air about him. It didn’t take long to make myself look much more presentable and all because of a simple square of cotton.

I was swinging the door open much more confidently in less than a couple of minutes. Handing the slightly damp square back to Ben. “Thank you.” His hand covered mine as I spoke.

The direct eye contact he shot me should have made me squirm, but oddly, it made me feel comforted instead. “So, I shall ask you again, Miss Spencer. Are you ready?”

“No, but let’s do it, anyway.” He nodded. I grinned. It was an odd exchange. He led me back out into the courtyard, ready to take the correct entrance and follow the rules the palace set and Ben enforced. There was a knot in my stomach and I couldn’t decide the specific bit of the day I was dreading. Maybe it was all of it, but there was certainly more dread than excitement as I let Ben lead me forward.