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Sandringham - Christmas Day 1988
She could feel his eyes on her long before she could actually see him. Call it second sense, or an invisible connection, whatever. Mingling with her extended family outside Saint Mary Magdalene church, Anne didn’t need to turn her head to know exactly where he was and what he was doing. It would have been rather unfair for her to cast the first stone when just this morning, on their walk to church, she had done everything possible to catch a glimpse of him. Waiting at the foot of the stairs, pretending she had to exchange a few words with the equerry’s walking companion, only to avert her eyes when they had gotten too close, and at the same time internally cursing Mark for inserting himself between them. Fully aware that if they were to lock eyes, they would give themselves and their feelings for each other away. A true vaudeville, right in front of the entire world. The husband, the wife and her lover.
Not that her relationship with Tim was a great secret. Little by little, in the almost twenty months they had been together now, masks had fallen and confessions had been made in the closest circles of their families and friends. Reactions had been varied. Consternation but resigned acceptance from her parents, a certain connivance with her aunt, genuine happiness from her youngest brother. Too entangled in their own marital challenges, she didn’t think her two other brothers had noticed the seriousness of her bond with Tim, and she intended to keep it that way for now. Some of her friends, the ones who didn’t care much about Mark due to his repeated infidelities, had opened their homes and allowed them to spend a few weekends together in all discretion. On three occasions now, she had met Tim’s mother Barbara for tea at his Winchester home. If in the beginning she had been rather dismayed about her son’s decision to conduct a relationship with a married woman, both women had warmed up to each other and genuinely appreciated each other’s company. Things had been much easier with his best friend Charlie and his wife Rebecca who had hosted them several times for dinner and even invited them aboard their yacht on the Solent.
They had a life together, and yet they still had to pretend. She had never been one to adopt New Year resolutions, finding them pointless, but she had made the decision that 1989 would see the official end of her failed marriage. Mark was more away from home and more uninterested in their life together than ever, and yet every time she had brought up the subject of separation, he had refused to hear about it, sticking to his usual selfishness. ’Why change? I’m perfectly happy this way.’ In earlier days this would have infuriated her, but now she was past the anger, the humiliation and the loneliness, and all of this because of Tim.
Yet Mark was here now, spending Christmas with her and the children. She was trying her best to stay civil, but their interactions were often tainted by a certain chilliness, not to mention the separate rooms, this year even in a separate wing of the large house. Rewiring works on Windsor Castle had required to transfer Christmas festivities to Sandringham for the first time in decades, and with the house overfilled with guests and staff despite its substantial size, she had barely been able to cross paths with Tim, only exchanging a few mundane words and covert smiles. Since they had arrived the day before, they had all gotten caught up in a whirlwind of celebrations : drinks reception, traditionally hosted by her father who loved to serve the cocktails himself on this occasion, while the youngest generation had been involved in putting the final decorations on the main Christmas tree, followed by the tumultuous exchange of gifts. A short break had allowed everyone to get ready for the formal six-course candlelit dinner, the evening concluding with more drinks, music and carols.
Busy with her children, she had skipped the first religious service this morning, and now she wished she could have kept away from this one as well. The longing to be with him was so strong, she had been unable to focus on anything else. Stealing glances across crowded church pews, drawn to each other like magnets, his eyes constantly on her. As she absentmindedly sang the hymns, all she could think of was how handsome he looked in his dark blue suit and cornflower blue tie, sending a subtle message by wearing her favourite colour. Maybe it was just plain withdrawal, after being unable to see him in person and touch him for more than two weeks now, and the intensity of his gaze led her to believe he felt the same, giving her shivers despite her warm coat, igniting a heat in her lower belly she tried to ignore. Stop it, you’re at church
After what had seemed like an eternity to her, the religious service had finally ended, and they had all regrouped outside, greeting each other and chatting together. Standing with her mother and grandmother as she commented on the fairly mild weather for the season, she had purposely avoided looking to the back of the small group, knowing Tim was standing there. She was proven right after she had turned around, initially to include her aunt into the conversation. While chatting and smiling politely, he was manoeuvring astutely, trying to find a gap in the assembly of people so he could catch a glimpse of her. Inevitably, their eyes met, and for a split second, it was only the two of them, the rest of the world ceasing to exist. Then, suddenly aware of their surroundings, they glanced away and this time, it wasn’t Tim’s eyes she found herself looking into, but her aunt’s. The subtle rise of her eyebrows let Anne know she had observed the whole scene, yet there was no trace of disapproval, only a quiet understanding, echoing to an open-hearted conversation mere months ago. If he’s the one, fight for him, whatever happens.
Walking back to the house with her brother, she had sat through another drinks reception and the whole Christmas lunch constantly thinking of her beloved. She had shrugged it off when someone had remarked that she had barely touched the lobster salad starter, the roasted turkey and its trimmings, not to forget the Christmas pudding, a bit too soaked in brandy for her taste. Afterwards, when a good part of the family had assembled for a match-up of charades, Tim, after having lunch with other members of senior staff, had been invited to join the fun. Carried away by the overly joyous atmosphere, with some having had a few too many at lunch, added to the fact that her husband, who hated charades, was nowhere in sight, Anne felt it hard to hide her special connection with the naval officer, just like he did. Coincidence had put them on the same team, and their intellectual bond and mutual affection had soon become more than apparent. Guessing too quickly what the other was trying to act out, laughing a bit too loud at each other’s jokes, even the rather corny ones, sometimes the only ones to do so, showing a tad too much eagerness.
Watching the broadcast of the Queen’s speech at 3 o'clock hadn’t really succeeded in cooling their enthusiasm, and when Tim had stood up, inconspicuously but repeatedly casting glances at her across the crowded room as an unmistakable invitation, she hadn't needed long to excuse herself and follow him out of the sitting room and through the house, until they had reached an isolated corridor. Alone, finally. After checking one last time that no one had followed them, Tim took her hand and drew her towards a dark recess under the staff back stairs. Anne’s loud gasp of surprise in response to his bold, unexpected move was silenced when he pressed his lips on hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to beckon him closer. Totally forgetting about their surroundings and the danger of getting caught, they kissed passionately for long minutes, making up for lost time and what felt like ages of deprivation. When they parted to catch their breath, a sudden pang of conscience got the better of her.
“You can’t look at me like this.” Her voice however failed to convey a genuine irritation, and instead of pulling away, he brushed his lips over the tip of her nose.
“I can’t look at you any other way.” His voice, so deep and smooth, made her whole body tingle.
“It’s not fair, I want to be with you so much.” Now the yearning was undeniable.
“So do I, my Darling.” He claimed her lips again and she drew him closer, enjoying the sensation of his large, broad frame pressing her into the wall. Her hands left their position around his neck, sliding down his back before possessively grabbing his bottom, digging her fingers into his flesh through his trousers and making it impossible for him to refrain his lust for her anymore.
“I’ve been burning with the need to kiss you, to touch you, to have you in my arms…” Now he was whispering into her ear and rendering her completely speechless. “I’ve been obsessed with you in that dress since last evening…” It had been a fleeting encounter in a busy hall, but her shoulder free, tight fitting evening gown and the way it exposed her delicate shoulders and collarbones had been engraved forever in his memory, just as the countless hours he had spent lavishing her delicate bone structure with loving attention.
“I’ll wear it again for you. Just so you can undress me.” Her choice of outfit today was more demure. A dark green velvet skirt suit over a high-neck silk white blouse, the same blouse she would wear less than four years from now for their intimate Scottish wedding, simple court shoes. And yet for him, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Please, don’t tease me like this…” His hands tightened around her slender waist, and Anne, carried away with desire, thrust her hips forward. What was she doing? Making out with her lover while her whole family, including her children, was just a few doors away, and on Christmas Day as well? Where was her sense of decorum? The tension, however, was becoming unbearable, and after having kissed her again, it was Tim who stated the obvious.
“We shouldn't, Darling…” His affirmation had the opposite effect on her.
“Who says? You can’t kiss me like this and then just disappear. It’s been weeks for me too…” They were about to kiss again but they froze on the instant when they heard rapid footsteps on the staircase. Tim instinctively pushed her further into the recess to hide her from view, but to their great relief, whoever it was turned in the other direction when reaching the bottom of the stairs, and thus failed to notice them. The narrowly avoided catastrophe should have taught them a lesson, and yet it only seemed to encourage them to find a more secluded place in order to pursue their rendezvous with more privacy.
“Where?” Going up to one of their rooms was out of the question with the number of people milling around.
Anne briefly pondered the situation before stepping out of their hiding place. “Follow me.” Turning left towards the back of the house, she opened the first door, only to close it again immediately, and then another one just further down the corridor. “I knew it was here… No one will ever find us!” She pulled him inside and Tim discovered a room he had never noticed before. Dark wood panelling on the walls, heavy, deep red velvet curtains that seemed to block most of the outside light, and a certain number of pieces of furniture arranged with no sense of order, as if they had just been abandoned here. “It was once a study for one of the princes, a long time ago, but nowadays everybody finds it too dark and too isolated in the house… Now the staff is using it for temporary storage.”
Tim got closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind.“I had no idea…” She turned around and he kissed her. “Beautiful and clever!”
Her soft chuckle was silenced by another kiss, this time more passionate. She pushed him back until his legs made contact with a large wingback chair covered with a white sheet. He sat down, but she remained standing as she undid the fastenings of her jacket and carefully put it over the back of another chair. “I can’t take off my blouse, I need at least five minutes and a mirror to fix the collar…”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me to guide you fashion wise?” Following her example, he was busy taking off his own jacket and tie, and opening the collar of his shirt, but still caught her playful grin. He watched as she took off her shoes, shimmied out of her skirt and added it on top of her jacket. “Oh, careful with the tights!”
“Yes, we don’t want to ruin another pair, huh?” He watched attentively as she slid the waistband down, gently pulled them down her thighs and over her knees, and then cautiously added them to the existing pile of clothes.
“To my defence, I never imagined they'd rip that easily!”
“You won’t hear me complaining about your enthusiasm…” Now that she was done, she climbed into his lap, straddled his thighs and they resumed where they had been interrupted a few minutes before. Following her directions, he undid only a few buttons at the bottom of her silk blouse, just enough to sneak his hands underneath it. As soon as he made contact with her soft, warm skin, Anne surrendered herself to passion. No one would have ever guessed that behind the shy smile and unassuming behaviour was hidden an extremely dedicated and inventive lover, eager to fulfil her every need. Far from being passive, she made quick work of his belt, button and fly, and when she briefly stood up to help him pull his trousers down his legs, she used the occasion to abandon her knickers on the ground. Pressed for time, concerned that someone could notice that they had both disappeared, and most of all unable to slow down their desire for each other, they soon began the eternal dance of lovers. Pushing up when she came down, his large hands firmly around her waist, kissing madly to stifle her moans and his grunts, and too soon it was over, leaving them panting heavily but so satisfied.
Her face buried into the crook of his neck, Anne moved her hand downwards until it rested on his abdomen, giving it an affectionate squeeze and making him laugh quietly.
“Yes, I may have overindulged a little bit these last few days… I have to be more careful!”
“I’m not totally against it. I love how… solid you are.” A long, soft kiss on his cheek to prove her point, as Tim tightened his arms around her. His fiercely independent princess, and the way she always curled up next to him or even wrapped herself all over him on the too rare occasions they could spend the night together. She sat back just enough for him to trail his thumb along her jaw, and when she kissed the palm of his hand, he tenderly cupped her cheek and they looked into each other’s eyes until Anne let out a sigh. “We should go back.”
Although he agreed with her, Tim didn’t let go of her immediately, and they kissed some more, this time slowly, tenderly, before getting dressed again and mutually checking their outfits.
“Is my hair okay?” Her rapid inspection hadn’t revealed any unruly locks, but without a mirror, she couldn’t be certain.
“Your hair is as marvellously voluminous as ever, Darling!” His cheeky grin didn’t go unnoticed, and she playfully pretended to shove him aside.
“Now you’re just teasing me…”
“I would never!” He stole a kiss, and then finished getting ready while they chatted about their day.
“Have you called your mother yet?” She knew how much family meant to him, and that for the third time in a row, he would miss spending Christmas with his loved ones, even if he claimed that being here, with her, was more than satisfying compensation.
“I did, right before church. There was a certain excitement in the house… The girls were delighted with their gifts, thank you for your help!” When he had been a bit lost with finding appropriate presents, Anne, based on her own experience with Zara and her little friends, had made a few suggestions.
“And now you’re an expert in doll accessories!”
“Mum gives her thanks for the chocolates and the chutney. She kept the chocolates for herself, but the chutney was very appreciated with dinner last night… Officially, it’s from one of her friends from church!” If Tim’s brother and sister-in-law hadn’t met her yet, they knew about Anne, which was not the case for the rest of the family.
Now that they were both dressed, Tim smoothed his hands down the soft velvet of her elegant skirt suit, and pulled her back into his arms for a last cuddle before they had to part.
They still had to exchange gifts, and had decided to wait for a couple of days, when they could finally have the opportunity to spend some time together. She had chosen a painting for him, a beautiful watercolour representing Ballochbuie forest at Balmoral, a place dear to their hearts where they had spent countless hours the previous summer, either just the two of them or with Peter and Zara, a place of serenity and of promises made to each other. His first choice had been jewellery, something timeless, maybe with sapphires to match the colour of her eyes, but he didn’t want her to have to lie about its provenance. Instead he had opted for something else that would hopefully accompany her for years to come, a sleek high quality pen, engraved with her monogram and in order to soften the wait, he had slid a Christmas card under her bedroom door very early this morning. She had been delighted to discover his message of love, and had added the snowy landscape representation to the bundle of love letters that she now carried everywhere with her, safely bundled together with a pink ribbon.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m very close to walking back into that drawing room with my arm around your waist.”
“I know this is frustrating, Love, but it’s only a question of time now. By this time next year, you’ll be a guest, officially at my side… That is if you’re not away, gallivanting at sea!” They both laughed, partially to cover the disappointment that his time as equerry was drawing to a close, and that he would probably be back at sea within a year. “You’re still not invited to the shoot tomorrow?”
Tim shook his head. “I’ll get ahead with work instead, in order to free up time for the following days…”
“My father probably thought that having Mark and you traipsing through the woods with loaded guns wouldn’t be very wise!” Things had been rather civil between the three of them, with Mark not really caring as long as Anne’s liaison remained discreet.
Right after Boxing Day, he would depart for Scotland - undoubtedly mixing business with pleasure - and she would stay behind with the children. With other family members gone back to their own activities, she was looking forward to more peaceful days, and more liberty. Just like they had done last year, they were both looking forward to a couple of days together, long walks on deserted beaches, days of outdoors playing with the children or afternoons of board games if the weather became too bad, quiet evenings spent reading - with Tim later sneaking into her bedroom once everyone would be asleep. With Peter being very competitive and a sore loser, the round of games often was on the verge of getting chaotic. If Anne sometimes lost patience with him, Tim always knew how to handle the boy’s temper with a firm kindness, getting him back to the table to apologise after he had thrown away his playing cards or even the whole board before fleeing the room in anger. This year, those quiet days centred around her children and Tim appeared more necessary than ever to Anne : a New Year skiing trip to France would follow, and with her husband prevented from escaping serious conversations, she would definitely end her marriage with a private but non-negotiable separation.
Reluctantly letting go of her, Tim cracked the door ajar and checked if the coast was clear. After one last smile, they went separate ways, and when Anne slipped back into the drawing room, it was her aunt who noticed her first and gave her a knowing look to which Anne responded with a barely perceptible shrug and a smile. The next ones to spot her were her daughter and nephew as they ran towards her, asking her to come admire the elaborate race tracks they had built in the corner of the room. Won over by their enthusiasm, she happily followed them, more resolute than ever to put an end to this hiding game and live openly with the love of her life.