A Dangerous Disguise (2 page)

A secret excitement was growing in Ola. If only she dared!

Suddenly she jumped up and went to the window. She was looking at a view she had seen a thousand times, and which never really changed.

"I'm getting older. At twenty-four I'm practically an old maid, and I have really done very little in my life," she said.

Now the sun was shining brightly. As she looked up into the sky she felt that it was telling her to be brave and adventurous. To make a jump which would lead her into a world which she had never known before.

A world she had read about and perhaps at times even dreamt about, but which she had never thought for a moment would be hers.

She would have turned away from the window but the sunshine held her there. She felt as if she could see her future life as more brilliant, more glamorous and more exciting than it had ever been before.

It was as if the sun itself and the clear blue sky were waiting for her answer.

Then as if it was impossible for her to say 'no', she said aloud,

"I will do it! And please help me, because I've never done anything noteworthy in my life and now I must succeed."

For a moment she stood very still, as if she was waiting for an answer.

Then, strangely enough, she heard the flutter of wings, and two white doves flew from the roof past her window and into the trees in the garden.

They were so white and, somehow, glittering in the sunshine, that she felt they were a direct message from the angels, and perhaps her father, that she should not be afraid, but do what she had promised him without any fear.

'I will do it! I will do it!' Ola told herself.

She summoned Greta to her at once.

"We're going to London," she said. "Pack my finest things. I'm going to do everything in tremendous style, just as Papa would have wanted. And if people are shocked at my doing this when I'm in mourning, well, I'll – I'll be somebody else. Nobody knows me in London."

"Well done!" said Greta at once. "You'll need a lot of new clothes."

"I'll buy them in London."

Greta gave a pleased sigh.

"I've looked forward to dressing you as you deserve to be dressed. You have beauty, if it's brought out properly, and by the time I've finished, you'll look like a Princess." Ola stared at her.

"Greta, that's it! I'm going to be a Princess."

"How will you manage that?"

"I shall say I'm a Princess, and nobody will know any different. You can tell me all I need to know."

"I? How can I - ?"

"You lived at a court once."

"For a few months, more than twenty years ago – "

"But it doesn't change, surely? You've always told me that royal life is fixed in aspic. Everything is done in the traditional way, at the traditional time. In any case, I shan't be living at court."

"But – "

It was useless for her to protest. Ola was becoming really carried away.

"I am Her Royal Highness, Princes Relola of Oltenitza," she declared grandly.

"And where exactly is Oltenitza?" asked Greta.

Ola shrugged airily.

"I don't know. I'll decide that later."

This was so unlike the sensible young woman Greta knew that she became a little alarmed.

"Perhaps you should come down to earth," she said.

"Greta, I don't want to come down to earth. I've had my feet on the ground all my life. Now I want to soar up and up, until I fly close to the sun."

"And suppose your wings melt and you fall?"

"I don't care. I'll have the memories forever."

"All right, my dear," said Greta fondly. "You can be Princess Relola, and I'll be your lady in waiting." She gave a deep curtsey. "Your Royal Highness."

Ola regarded her haughtily.

"You may rise," she said.

Then she burst into a giggle of delight.

"Oh Greta," she said, "this is going to be such fun."

*

They departed next morning, leaving early because of the length of the journey. As Ben Torrach was far out in the country there was a twenty mile trip in the carriage to the nearest tiny railway station, where they caught the train for Edinburgh.

There they caught another train for the long journey south to London. They had two first class sleeping compartments, and they sat up late while Greta did Ola's hair in curlers. Greta was racking her brains to remember what she had learned when she worked for Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Baynich many years ago.

"They were very minor royalty," she told Ola, "but that didn't make them any less grand. On the contrary, the less important they were, the more they looked down their noses.

"The Prince of Wales came to visit them once, and he was really nice, actually winked at me. You wouldn't catch the Duke winking, or even noticing I existed."

"I don't want to be unkind to people," Ola said.

"If you're royal you don't worry what anyone thinks of you," Greta explained. "If I'm your lady in waiting you'll have to learn to look through me as if I were less than nothing."

"Will I?" Ola asked, startled.

"Yes. And don't call me Greta, it isn't regal."

"You should have a title too," said Ola, eager to share both the glory and the fun.

"True," Greta agreed. "Only the very highest aristocrats are allowed to be in attendance on a royal person. I shall be Lady Krasler. But where is Oltenitza? If anyone should ask, we'd better tell the same story."

"I've decided that it's one of the little Balkan states. There are so many of them that nobody will be quite sure whether it exists or not."

"They will eventually," Greta pointed out, amused.

"Ah, but then it'll be too late. I'll have gone on to my next adventure."

"How did you think of the name?"

"Inspiration!" Ola said ecstatically. "It just came to me."

"Suppose someone asks you to say something in Oltenitzan?"

"Aristocratic Oltenitzans speak German, just like aristocratic Russians speak French," said Ola triumphantly. "Thank goodness you and Mama managed to teach it to me."

"You seem to have thought of everything."

"No, I haven't thought of anything at all. I'm making it up as I go along. That's the fun."

"And when something goes really wrong?"

"Nonsense," said Ola blithely. "How can anything go wrong?"

*

It was Ola's first experience of sleeping on a train, and it was like being rocked to sleep in a cradle. She awoke feeling refreshed, and sat looking out of the window at the English countryside rushing by, until they reached Euston Station, where trains from the north arrived in London.

To someone used to living in the country the huge station, with its vast stone arch, was a shock.

"I didn't know there were so many people in the world," Ola confided. "What do we do now?"

"We find a porter, and the porter gets us a cab."

Greta's air of lofty authority was impressive, and soon she had a porter scurrying to do her bidding.

"The Hotel Imperial, Piccadilly," she told the cab driver.

All the sights and sounds of London seemed to converge on Ola as they travelled through the streets. So much noise, bustle and colour, and here she was, in the middle of it.

The Hotel Imperial was the most imposing building Ola had ever seen, even bigger than the great house at home.

The first thing she saw as she entered was a huge copy of the official Jubilee photograph. It was a three-quarters view of Queen Victoria, sitting, looking into space with gentle melancholy. She had ruled the Empire for half a century and her eyes were full of the knowledge.

On her head she wore a bonnet, whose wide lace strings tied under her chin and streamed down her breast. Beneath that bonnet the face was round and plump, with a small mouth. It might have been insipid but for a large, sharp nose that added shrewdness and character to the whole.

Both women stood for several moments looking at that tiny lady who dominated her age, and made strong men tremble.

"So that's her," Greta murmured.

"Yes, that's her," Ola said.

She began to look up in awe at the marble pillars and lofty ceilings, until Greta muttered in German,

"Don't do that. Remember you live in a palace, and this is nothing by comparison."

"Yes," Ola said hastily, in the same language.

"Perhaps it would please Your Royal Highness to sit here on this sofa while I deal with the man at the desk."

Ola had to smother a laugh at the sight of Greta advancing on the desk as though she had a bad smell under her nose. She presented the letter from the hotel confirming the reservation, and explained that the names 'Mr. McNewton and Miss McNewton' were a cover. Her Royal Highness was travelling incognito.

After that all was bustle and deference. The manager personally escorted the 'Princess' up to her suite, followed by a stream of porters carrying her bags.

Once there, her 'lady in waiting' inspected the suite minutely before pronouncing it just about tolerable for her royal mistress. Ola, who had never been anywhere so luxurious in her life, struggled to keep a straight face.

When the bags were finally in place, the manager bowed himself out and the door closed behind him. At once the two women collapsed with mirth, hugging each other, rocking back and forth.

The adventure had begun.

*

Ola slept peacefully all through the night, and when she woke the sun was coming in through the sides of the curtains.

She drew them back and saw that the hotel overlooked a park. Already there were people moving about under the trees. Men were trotting past on extremely fine horses.

The previous evening she and Greta had dined in the suite and gone to bed early, to sleep off the long journey. Now she felt fresh and ready for anything.

Greta bustled in to help her dress, and send a message downstairs that they required breakfast.

"What do you wish to do today?" she asked. "Visit the shops? Travel on the underground railway?"

"Greta, do people really go through a tunnel under the earth?" Ola asked.

"Of course. It's been happening for over twenty years. It's no novelty any more."

"It is if you come from Ben Torrach," Ola said with a chuckle. "I'm longing to see it, but not today. On my first day in London it is appropriate to pay my respects to Queen Victoria.

"Ola, please be serious."

"I am serious."

"You cannot just walk into Buckingham Palace."

"I am royalty offering my congratulations, and a suitable gift, to a great Queen on the occasion of her Golden Jubilee. Nothing could be more proper."

"What gift?"

"That exquisite French vase that I packed just before we left."

"You can't do it," insisted Greta, half shocked, half amused.

"Greta, I will wager you a new hat that I get into the Palace and out again without anyone discovering the truth."

"Splendid," said Greta with spirit. "I need a new hat."

Ola threw her an impish look. "Now what shall I wear?"

Still grumbling, Greta took out one of Ola's smartest walking gowns, with a matching hat. Ola had never worn them before, because they had seemed too sophisticated for the wilds of Scotland. Now she was in the right place for such clothes.

Just before she left she took a plain card from her bag and wrote on it:

'To Her Majesty Queen Victoria, with respect and admiration.

From Princess Relola of Oltenitza.'

Underneath she added the date: June 13th, 1887.

Downstairs Greta led the way out to a cab and gave the driver the address, Buckingham Palace. Deeply impressed he touched his hat and held the door open for the two great ladies.

The carriage did not take long to reach Buckingham Palace.

It was stopped at the gates. A man in uniform opened the door to ask,

"May I enquire, Madam, for what reason you are coming here at this moment?"

It was Greta who replied.

"This is Her Royal Highness, Princess Relola of Oltenitza," she told him, "bringing greetings and a gift to Her Majesty on this important occasion."

The officer saluted, shut the door and said to the driver,

"Pass on."

The carriage drove to the back of the building.

Ola saw there was a door with two sentries on either side of it. As the cab drew up another man came forward, opened the door and she stepped out. Then, followed by Greta, she walked inside.

There she saw a dark suited man, standing beside a table on which there were a number of parcels which had been handed in. She walked imperiously towards him and spoke, taking care to assume an accent like Greta's so that he should not suspect that she was English.

"Princess Relola of Oltenitza. My gift is not only from myself but from all my countrymen, who wish Her Majesty well on this great occasion."

The man bowed, and ceremoniously received the parcel from her.

She had done it. She had managed to get into the Palace, and had now only to leave to have secured a triumph. But a little imp of daring, suppressed too long, prodded her to say.

"I have come a very long way from a distant country. I wonder if I might see some part of the Palace before I go."

He looked surprised. But then another man appeared through a door and he said,

"A moment please, Your Royal Highness."

He hastened to the newcomer and spoke in a fierce whisper. Ola could just hear odd words.

" - Palace - Princess Relola - what am I to do, Your Grace?"

The man he had called 'Your Grace' then said, "I will see to it."

He walked towards Ola and she had time to see that he was about thirty years old, and very good looking.

"Good morning," he said, with a respectful bow. "I understand that Your Royal Highness has brought a present for the Queen. Her Majesty will be most grateful to you."

"Do you think she would allow me to see a little of her Palace?" Ola asked with a smile. "I've come all the way from the Balkans, and my people will want to know how your Palace compares with ours."

"I will show you what I can," the man promised. "But it's really the job of your Embassy to arrange anything like this."