‘Stop,’ she said firmly — more of a command than a request. Her former protection officer had warned Ross that it always happened when you least expected it.
He slowed down and parked on a single yellow line. He unbuckled his seatbelt, but she’d escaped before he could reach the back door. One look, and he knew exactly where she was heading. He quickly followed her into the shop to find her gazing around, her eyes lit up like a drunk who’s found the only bar in town.
Wherever you looked, there were handbags of every shape, size and colour, that had found their way from all over the world to a boutique in Guildford. HRH was clearly in paradise.
To Ross’s relief there was no one else inside the shop, other than a young woman behind the counter, whose mouth was wide open, though no words were coming out. HRH was enjoying the feast that surrounded her, still unsure which would be her first course.
Ross quickly switched the open sign to closed and stood with his back to the door — though within minutes, he accepted that everyone in Guildford would know who had just ridden into town.
HRH was taking her time, closely examining various bags that particularly appealed to her, looking inside to make sure they would cater for the needs of a princess, which often included somewhere to put ‘today’s speech’.
She’d just about completed her preliminary search when an older man appeared from an office at the back of the shop. After a second take, he stammered, ‘Good morning, Your Majesty,’ and bowed low from the waist. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘Thank you. I’m finding it hard to choose between these,’ said Diana, placing two handbags on the counter.
‘This one,’ he said, picking up the first bag, ‘is a classic French model made by Le Tanneur, who have been established for almost a hundred years. And this one is a Burberry. Your Majesty will be familiar with the brand, as I know it’s one of your favourites.’
Diana turned to Ross. ‘If you had to choose one of these for Josephine, which do you think she would have preferred?’
Ross deserted his post by the door and joined HRH at the counter. He took a closer look at the bags before saying, ‘You have to remember, ma’am, that Jo was French, and when it came to style, she considered the British were still on a learning curve, so there’s no doubt which one she would have selected.’
‘I agree with her,’ said Diana, after taking a third look at both bags. ‘I’ll have this one,’ she said, handing the Le Tanneur to the young woman, who still hadn’t spoken.
‘An excellent choice, Your Majesty, if I may say so,’ said the owner as he began to wrap up the chosen bag.
HRH’s next request didn’t take Ross by surprise.
‘I don’t have any money on me, Ross, so could you possibly...?’
‘Not a problem, ma’am.’ Ross took out his wallet and not for the first time, handed over his credit card.
Once the owner had finished wrapping up the bag, he rushed across to the door, opened it, and said, ‘We look forward to seeing you again, Your Majesty,’ followed by an even lower bow.
When Ross stepped out of the shop, he wasn’t surprised to find that a large crowd had gathered on the pavement outside. They began clapping and taking photos the moment she appeared; one particularly enterprising mother had bought a bunch of flowers from the shop next door, which her young daughter held up as she passed. Diana bent down, accepted the bouquet, and gave the girl a hug. The mother got her photo opportunity.
As Ross shepherded HRH back to the car, he made a request of a young constable who’d assessed the situation.
Diana waved as the car moved off and made its way slowly through the enthusiastic crowd that had spilled out onto the road. When Ross was finally able to speed up, he checked the rear-view mirror and satisfied himself that the young policeman had followed his instructions. He was holding up the traffic to make sure no one could chase after them — a protection officer’s worst nightmare.
As they drove out of town, Ross was beginning to feel grateful that they appeared to have escaped unscathed, when a cry came from the back seat.
‘Oh, help!’ said Diana. ‘We’re going to have to go back.’
‘Why, ma’am?’ asked Ross, who had no intention of returning, even if it was a royal command.
‘He’s given me both bags.’
‘Hardly a surprise, ma’am,’ said Ross.
‘How much was the bill?’ she asked.
‘There was no bill, ma’am.’
‘Then how am I going to pay them?’
‘You already have, ma’am.’
‘You’re not making any sense, Ross.’
‘When Frank Sinatra visited Naples last year, he dropped into a pizza parlour along with his bodyguards and ordered a Margarita they’ve now called Sinatra. I’m told there’s been a queue outside the shop ever since. I predict that by the time the shop you’ve just visited closes tonight, there won’t be a bag on the shelves, and the owner won’t need to advertise for the rest of his life.’
‘We should drop into shops like that more often.’
‘No, thank you, ma’am.’
‘The least I can do is send him a note to thank him. Did you find out his name, by any chance?’
‘I did. Aloysius.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘No, ma’am. Apparently his friends call him Al.’
‘And the young woman behind the counter?’ asked Diana, making a note.
‘His daughter, Susan.’
‘How did you find that out?’
‘I served undercover for twelve years, ma’am.’
‘How lucky I am to have you serving me now, Ross,’ she said coyly as she placed her diary back into her handbag.
Ross was no different from any other man. Despite trying to remain cool, he melted.
As they turned off the main road, Ross checked once again to make sure no one was following them. No one was. They had only travelled about another couple of miles when they entered the picturesque hamlet of Chalfordbury, and moments later they approached two ornate iron gates heralding the entrance to a large estate. The gates began to swing slowly open when the car was still a hundred yards away. A guard saluted as they passed by.
A winding drive led through a dense forest and past a large lake, before a grand Lutyens mansion loomed up in front of them that wouldn’t have failed to impress even a Princess. They finally circled a rose garden in full bloom before coming to a halt in front of the house.
Jamil Chalabi was standing on the top step waiting to greet them. As they were over an hour late, Ross wondered how long he’d been standing there. Chalabi walked down to greet his royal guest as she stepped out of the car.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Diana said as he kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Not a problem,’ he replied, leading her up the steps and into the house. ‘I’m just delighted you made it.’
As Ross entered the house, he was surprised to find it was anything but glitzy and vulgar. Beth and William would certainly have admired an art collection that would have graced a gallery. Was it possible he’d misjudged the man?
An under-butler peeled Ross off from the main party and guided him on a long circuitous route to the west wing, before dumping him in a room that was cramped and cold and could only have been described as staff quarters. Ross accepted that that was exactly how Chalabi thought of him.
Once he’d unpacked, he carried out an inspection of the grounds. He began by walking around the perimeter of the property, which took him almost forty minutes. The ten-foot flint stone wall that surrounded the entire estate would have put off the most determined professional burglar, let alone a trainee.
Ross introduced himself to the guard on the front gate, whom he thought he recognized. He was assured that during the weekend there would never be fewer than three guards on duty twenty-four/seven; one on the gate, with two more patrolling the grounds. After confirming there was no other entrance to the estate, Ross made his way back to the house, stopping only to admire the vast oval lake which was stocked with asagi carp. He’d once read that asagi were so highly prized, they cost as much as a thousand pounds each. Ross tried not to think how many of them it would take to fill a lake that size; another way of Chalabi subtly reminding his guests how wealthy he was.