Soul to Soul

No, it was too ridiculous, and I certainly wasn't going to ask Elizabeth about it. Ted was just embroidering a bit of information he'd got in order to set me up.

I got on with my planting, resolved to forget the whole thing.

I didn't see Elizabeth again until the next weekend. We took another trip together to the plant nursery because what we'd bought the previous weekend hadn't gone as far as we had hoped.

I must admit that I did look at her with considerable interest, trying to detect if there were any signs of royal demeanour. But then, I didn't really know what that would look like. She wasn't haughty, disdainful or remote; she was just exceptionally pleasant Elizabeth.

But Ted's bit of planting had its effects. I won't make any pretence; before Ted's story I had been mildly attracted to Elizabeth. Nothing wildly passionate – I wasn't ready for that yet – but she was good to look at.

Now I found myself backing off from even that mild attraction, and becoming more formal in my manner than my admittedly usual rather conventional style.

Elizabeth seemed to detect something in my manner and she asked, "Is there something wrong, Andrew?"

"No, why?"

"You seem a little distant. Have I said or done something to upset you?"

"No...no...it's just...oh well, just one of those days?"

"Those days?"

"Oh, nothing really, my mind seems to be somewhere else."

"Would you like to come and see my garden, Andrew?"

"Yes, I would."

I unloaded my plants first and then helped carry Elizabeth's into her courtyard.

As far as she'd gone with what we'd bought the previous weekend, her planting seemed to have been more effective than mine. It's strange how some people seem to have just the touch for certain things. They seem to be able, without any undue effort, to make an excellent job of whatever it is.

With Ted's princess business still niggling away I asked, "Did you have a garden in Ruthvenia?"

"Yes, we had a garden."

"And you worked in it?"

"A little, when I could."

"What did you do when you lived there?"

"Oh, I had a...a government job."

"Was it an important job?"

"Some people thought so."

"But not everyone?"

"Most people...why are you asking me this," she said agitatedly, "you know what I do now so why do you ask me about Ruthvenia?"

Her prevarication urged me on, so I took the plunge.

"I know you'll laugh at this Elizabeth, but someone told me that you are the Crown Princess of Ruthvenia."

She had been about to pick up a plant. She remained stock still for a moment, then straightened up, looking at me.

She didn't laugh. "Who told you that, Andrew?"

"Just a friend of mine."

"Do you believe him?"

"I didn't but now I'm starting to wonder."

"That is why you have been a little strange today."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"It always the same."

"It's true then?"

"Not quite. I was the Crown Princess."

"Was?"

"Ruthvenia is now a republic."

"Oh, did you have to flee...where you in danger?"

She smiled and said, "No Andrew, I was not in danger. Since now you know who I am, or was, I had better tell you the whole story, but not now. This evening - you will visit me this evening?"

"Yes, if you want me to, but you don't have to tell me if you..."

"I think I do have to tell you Andrew, you will see why." She smiled a little wanly and continued, "I would like to invite you to dine with me, but I am still learning to cook; you see how it was, I never had to cook."

"I'm not much good myself," I replied ruefully. "Perhaps we could both go to a restaurant together one evening."

"Yes, I would like, but we shall see. Eight o'clock?"

"Eight o'clock; I'll be there. And by the way, your garden is looking very good."

"Thank you Andrew."

I left to cook my own meal, but was so engrossed I ordered a pizza by telephone instead.

At a couple of minutes to eight o'clock I was at her door ringing the bell, feeling rather agitated but at the same time intrigued.

The princess opened the door looking very pleasing in a simple white cotton dress, but no more royal than on previous occasions. I was ushered into the lounge and asked to sit.

It was the same armchair I had occupied on my previous visit, and once more Elizabeth sat opposite me.

Her dark eyes gazed at me for nearly half a minute, then she sighed and began to speak.

"You wonder why I did not tell you about who I was?"

"No, it's your own business what you tell me or anyone else."

"Yes, but always people seem to find out and they change."

"Change?"

"Being Crown Princess is all in the past now, but still it hangs with me...what you say here, like a foul stench?"

"A bad smell," I corrected. "But you don't smell bad at all, in fact you smell rather nice."

"You like?"

"Yes...but I'm sorry, I was just making a silly joke."

"Ah, I see. I do not always understand the humour of this country."

"I still say you smell nice."

"What I am saying Andrew is this; people learn I was once Crown Princess; some do not seem to like me after that, or others become...how do you say it? Obsickness?"

"I think you might mean obsequious."

"Why they do that I do not know. You see how I live, you see I do not have lots of money or jewels, I do not have even influence; so what they hope I give?"

"Perhaps they like the idea of knowing royalty."

"Yes, perhaps so, but I am no longer royalty. Ruthvenia is a republic now."

"A revolution?"

"No, no, people think that, but no revolution. My father suggested it."

"Your father?"

"Yes, King. Every week the prime minister come to him and makes report and they talk. One day my father say to him, "Prime minister, why do we still have monarchy?"

The prime minister say, "Your majesty, the people are devoted to you; you are our Head of State."

My father say, "What do I do? I live in a big palace, meet visiting dignitaries, attend banquets, open things and sign documents; it is you and the Assembly who does things, so what need of me?"

The prime minister say, "The people would not have a republic. We should have to hold a plebiscite and I assure you they would vote against a republic."

"Prime Minister," my father say, "hold a plebiscite and I will speak to the people on television and radio and tell them they should have a republic."

"So what happened?"

"They held the plebiscite."

"And?"

"The people voted for a republic."

"So your father and the family were out of a job?"

"No, not quite."

"Why...how...?"

"Under the new constitution they had to have a President."

"Yes?"

"They voted for my father."

"Well I'll be damned."

"And what does he do now? He lives in a palace, meets visiting dignitaries, attends banquets, opens things and signs documents."

"So nothing changed?"

"Yes it did. There was no longer a hereditary Head of State, so I was no longer the Crown Princess who would one day be Queen."

"Does that make you sad?"

"No...no, I think I would have been a very bad Queen, mainly because I never wanted to be Queen."

"But you could have stayed in Ruthvenia?"

"Oh yes, but I thought, there may be something I could do for my country, but what? I had spent so much time learning to be Queen I had not learned any other skill."

"It was my mother who said to me, 'Elizabeta, you know about our clothes designers, you have worn many of their creations, why do you not help them?'"

"So I came here and opened my shop to sell clothes designed and made in Ruthvenia. It is a very small start but perhaps it will grow. But you see Andrew, I have had the big things and they are not very...what would you say? Comfortable? I thought I wanted small things and have small friends, like you."

I wasn't too sure I liked the adjective "small," but I thought I saw her point., and said so.

Looking at me keenly she went on, "There is much more I could say, but I am thinking, Andrew, you might have become my friend, but now you know about me, do you think that is no longer possible?"

"You want me to be your small friend."

"Oh Andrew, as soon as I said it I knew I had said it wrong, but what could I say? It is sometimes nice to have people waving and cheering when you pass among them, and having people bow when they speak with you, but it is not real...I mean...there is no touching of soul with soul...do I say that right?"

"Yes, very right."

"Soon after I met you, I think to myself, 'He is a nice man and I would like my soul to touch his.' You escort me and then we buy plants together, and when you did not want me to stand on the chair because I might hurt myself, I think, 'He wants to be my friend, and our souls touched.'"

I could see that she craved ordinary relationships, and although she believed that people changed in relation to her when they learned about her royal background, I was sure it was not the whole story. Some of the problem lay with her. She had never learned how to have an ordinary, open relationship, except perhaps with her family.

That thought gave rise to another. She was around forty years of age, I guessed; had she ever been married? I didn't know how to approach that, but almost as if Elizabeth sensed my thought, she asked, "Have you ever had a great love, Andrew?"

"Yes, I once had a great love."

"Your souls were one?"

This imagery was strange to me, but understanding its drift I replied, "Yes, our souls were one."

"It is beautiful when it happens like that."

"Yes."

"Did it...are you...your love is it...?"

"She died."

"Oh, that is sad; is it right to ask how?"

"She fell of a chair."

"Fell off...ah, so that is why..."

"Yes, she was standing on a chair to get to a high cupboard and she slipped, fell and hit her head on the corner of the table."

"Is it long ago?"

"Just over two years."

"Perhaps you are lucky...she was lucky..."

"Lucky, how the hell could either of us be lucky, she died."

"Yes...yes...I understand Andrew. I was thinking of Ector."

"Ector?

"He too had an accident, but he did not die. He was to be my consort when I became Queen. Our souls were one and that is unusual."

"How is it unusual?"

"Ah yes, you do not understand. One day my father say to me, 'Elizabeta, you must marry because you will need a consort one day.' It meant finding someone from another royal house – a prince. My father say, 'It is difficult, but I will not make you marry if you do not think you could love.'"

"So what happened?"

"It sounds not nice, but a list was made of eligible princes, and then they were invited to stay with us for a while. It was Ector I loved. He was so kind and gentle; he did not brag or show off, he was just himself when he was with me. I knew our souls would become one."

"And he died?"

"No, he still lives."

"But then, why..."

"Your beloved died from an accident; my beloved had an accident, but he did not die, not properly."

"I don't understand."

"He was riding a horse at the head of the palace guards. It was on the long road in front of the palace. There were people, tourists, watching the parade and cheering and something happened to make the horse shy. It ran off into the crowd injuring several people. Ector was trying to bring it under control when it ran under a tree; Ector's head was struck by a branch and he fell off."

"Almost like Anne's accident; a head injury."

"Yes, but Ector did not die; he is what you call a carrot."

"A car...oh, you mean a vegetable."

"Yes; he does not speak, he knows no one, and he must be fed and washed and he lies in bed with things attached to him."

"You mean he is really dead to life?"

"Two years I hoped, and then my father say, 'Elizabeta, the doctors say he will never recover, you must have formal divorce and than remarry.'"

"I said know I would not; I had promised before God that Ector and I will be one."

"The archbishop came to me and he say, 'Your highness, your husband will not recover, and even if he did a little his brain is so badly damaged that he could not be your consort. It is not God's will that you should go on waiting for something that will never happen. You have a God given responsibility to your people.'"

"In my heart I knew he was right and a divorce was secured, although they called it an annulment. But even though they ended my marriage I could not bring myself to remarry."

She smiled sadly and said. "Do you know Andrew, it was the republic that saved me."

"How?"

"The republic does not need a Crown Princess or a future Queen and Consort. There was no need for me to marry again."

"And that's when you came to this country?"

"Yes, with my idea – perhaps my foolish idea – that I could do something for Ruthvenia."

"Will you stay?"

"Perhaps; I am told that eventually I could become a citizen and hold dual citizenship."

"Yes, I've heard of that."

"Are you my friend, Andrew?"

"If you want me as your friend, Elizabeth, then yes, I am your friend."

It seemed very odd, this formal way of arranging a friendship, but perhaps that was the way royalty went on, or maybe it indicated Elizabeth's uncertainty about her self. Whatever the case, I found it strangely moving.

It was getting late, so I rose and said, "Thank you for taking me into your confidence; I'm very honoured."

She rose and took my hand and said, "Our souls have touched tonight, Andrew."

Her look and words were so earnest that I felt near to tears. Someone who once had probably been seen above all pain and sorrow, who had to hide her emotions, had opened herself to me.

Greatly moved I said, "Goodnight, Elizabeth, I shall be here if you need me."

"And I if you need me, Andrew. Goodnight."

I left her, a thoughtful man. From the first moment of seeing her, when she was being harassed by the gypsy look-alike, I felt protective. Perhaps it was something to do with a palace upbringing. No doubt that had its particular realities and difficulties; the formal relationships that did not allow for intimacy beyond the bounds of the palace. Even her relationship with beloved Ector had been within the constraining bounds of royalty. Now she had exposed herself to the world beyond the palace and was struggling to cope.

By chance she was my neighbour, and also, seemingly by chance, a meeting at the exhibition, and for whatever reason she had cosen me to open herself to and, yes, she was right, our souls had touched. "What beautiful imagery," I thought.

I suppose in a way we were both souls seeking to touch, because ever since Anne's tragic death I had been, in Elizabeth's terms, a lost soul. It was true that I had friends – people like Ted with whom I would have an occasional drink with, and the only women I had any real contact with were the wives or girlfriends of my male friends and acquaintances.

But Anne seemed to have so absorbed me that after her death there had seemed to be no desire to find another female companion. It struck me how similar my lot was to Elizabeth's. Her Ector still lived his living death, and Elizabeth had resisted suggestions she divorce and take another husband. She too felt that there could be no other soul to entwine with hers.

Over the following weeks we had our restaurant dinner together, and that was followed by several more such evenings. We went together to buy more plants until our troughs were full, and then we went on to free standing plants in large pots and planter boxes.

We looked at each other's gardens, discussed and advised about what was to be done. Elizabeth asked me to go to another art exhibition, and this time she bought a painting. It was a magnificent sea-scape. She explained that Ruthvenia had no sea coast but she loved the sea.

Since we have many fine beaches here we got around to talking about them and we agreed on visiting one together.

I think at this point I should explain something about myself. Obviously I was well past there age when sperm filled testes constantly demand release. My experience with Anne was not, to use Elizabeth's terms, entirely concerned with the soul; it had a definite physical aspect as well – a physical aspect that had been deeply satisfying.

Now that's a thought. Perhaps soul and body belong together and sexual contact with one you love is part of soul meeting.

I am not suggesting that I was totally devoid of interest in women; it was more a case of my not being able to work up enough interest to pursue female flesh.

That day on the beach with Elizabeth changed things a little. If it was true that she wore a very revealing bikini, I would say so; but it was not the case. It was as much what she did not reveal in her one piece bathing suit, as what she did reveal that added physical to soul.

That one piece moulded to her figure, and she was lovely. Yes, even old-fashioned me got an erection looking at her. There were other women on the beach who might just as well have been naked for all that they had covered, but for me there was only one woman on the beach, Elizabeth.

In her ingenuous way Elizabeth made it worse. At one point she said, "You look at me strangely, Andrew, is something wrong?"

Incredibly, but after a bit of inner tussle, I said just what I was thinking. "I'm looking at you Elizabeth because you are so lovely."

She smiled and then said very softly, "You like, Andrew?"

"Yes Elizabeth, I like very much."

Then she spoilt it by saying, "Ector, he also liked very much."

So it was still Ector - poor vegetable Ector - who filled her thoughts. For a moment I thought I might get my revenge by saying, "Anne liked very much," but I decided it would be childish. This dear, almost naïve woman, never said anything to deliberately hurt, it just came out as it was. I either accepted that or our souls would cease to touch.

She smoothed my ruffled feathers a little by taking my hand and saying, "You are like Ector, so kind and gentle." Our souls touched again.

After that I did not really know where I stood with Elizabeth. She had disturbed my grief inspired celibacy. We went out together increasingly, in fact you could say we were constant companions. The problem was, the inner fire, having been rekindled, was turning into a fierce conflagration. Yet I could not bring myself to disturb what on the surface looked like a calm, beautiful friendship.

Jealousy, that green eyed monster, stepped in and had an unexpected outcome.

Under a window at the front of the house I had a small window plant box. One Sunday morning I was just inspecting it when I saw a car draw up outside Elizabeth's house. A tall and very good looking young man stepped out and approached her door.

When she opened the door there were joyful outcries. It was in a language I could not understand, but the content was clear from the sounds of their voices. My interpretation was, they were two lovers meeting after a time of separation.

"So that's it," I thought. "I've been a filler-in. She's used me until the real thing comes along."

I went inside, and in my envious turmoil I couldn't settle to anything.

It must have been about half an hour after seeing the young man when my doorbell rang. I didn't want to see anyone, but it rang again, a long urgent ring.

When I finally opened it I was confronted by a shining , exuberant Elizabeth.

She grabbed my arm and breathlessly said, "You come...you come quickly Andrew...must meet...come..."

I thought I was about to have my face rubbed into her joyful meeting with her new soul mate, but I went along with it just so that I could grovel a bit more in my misery.

I was dragged into her lounge and saw the young man sitting in an armchair. He rose as we entered.

"Look...look Andrew, Jeffris, my son, he come...not tell. Jeffris, this Andrew Davies."

"Elizabeth, you never told me you had a son."

The young man extended his hand to me saying, "I am very pleased to meet my mother's lover."