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“We’d like to approve the messaging before it goes to the press,” Freddy says.
“Of course.”
“And I should be the one to tell Charlotte and Duncan,” I assert. “It wouldn’t be right coming from anyone else.”
By the time Freddy and I leave, I feel so much better about everything.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not. We’re in this together and we’ll make it through.”
“Are you able to stay?” I ask as we make our way through the palace.
“I’d love to say yes. But I want to tell Pippa in my own time tomorrow, and it’s still early enough for me to pick her up and take her home. I’d love to say, come home with me—I know you want to be there to tell her, but I honestly do think it’s better if I do that myself.
I’ll admit to feeling a little hurt that we can’t spend tonight together, but I understand and agree with why it can’t happen.
22
Alfred
My plan wasto take Pippa riding after breakfast to tell her about the baby. But the morning headlines put a very big spanner in the works.
Keeping it in the family
Princess Alexandra’s love-nest
By the time Pippa comes down for breakfast, I’m bombarded with so many texts I have turn my mobile off to ensure we can at least have this discussion without being disturbed.
“Good morning, Poppet, what would you like to eat this morning?”
“Toast with lemon curd, please, Daddy.”
I pop a couple slices of squirrelly bread into the toaster and pour a large glass of milk.
“Couldn’t I have hot chocolate?” she asks, giving me her most baleful puppy-dog eyes.
“Since when do you get hot chocolate at breakfast?”
“Charlotte lets me.”
“What happens at Charlotte’s stays at Charlotte’s, my wee imp. Besides, if I let you have it here, then it wouldn’t be special when you go visit Charlotte and Duncan, would it?”
She considers that for a moment before giving me a sharp nod. The toast pops and I quickly slather it in butter and lemon curd before placing it on the table in front of her. I grab my mug of tea and sit across from her so I can gauge her expressions as I give her the news.
“I have something important to tell you.”
She looks up at me, and it’s a gut punch just how worried I am about how she’s going to handle this.
“You’re going to be a big sister.”
“How? You’re not married.”
“You know that people don’t need to be married to have babies.”
She nods. “But you have to love each other very, very much. That’s what Jenny told me her mum told her when she asked her how babies get made. She said when two people love each other very very much, then they make a baby. Who do you love very very much, Daddy?”
“Oh, sweetheart—”
