Page 68 of Tabloid Princess

“Mummy, you look so beautiful.” Daisy rushed to give me a huge hug when I finally made it out of the bedroom.

“Thank you, sweetie. Can you be good for Nana?”

“Always.” She turned the big blues onto me.

“Bed on time.”

“Half an hour more?”

I narrowed my gaze, but my heart wasn’t in it. “Not a minute more.”

“Yaaay!” She rushed to Nana. “Mummy said we can have an extra half an hour.”

I bent down and beckoned her over, squeezing my arms around her as tight as I could. “Can’t breathe,” she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” I pushed her back so I could inspect her, my hands checking her face, looking for signs of an asthma attack. “Are you ill? Do you need a pump?” I put my ear to her chest.

She laughed and it made my heart swell. “No, Mummy, you were hugging me too tight.”

“Sorry. My bad.”

I gave her a swift kiss and straightened up, grabbing my bag as I did. I wanted to be outside when Bill turned up.

Nana raised her finger when I opened my mouth to give last minute instructions. “Go. Be safe and have a good time.”

I flushed a brilliant red, my cheeks stung so hot I might have needed a shower again.

At 6:57 I stepped out onto the small path, first checking for any stray journalists with cameras.

The road was clear apart from a car that didn’t look directly like it should fit in on my small estate. Not even in the nicer bit I lived in. Black and sleek, it looked like it should be taking diplomats places. The same car I’d been driven home in last week.

Bill who I recognised instantly, got out and opened up the rear door. I bobbed my head unsure what to do and slipped in before Mrs A could write down my coming and goings in her notebook by her window.

“Good evening, Miss Lawrence.”

Bill looked at me in the rear-view mirror once he was back in the driver’s seat.

“Hi,” I squeaked. The car smelled the same as the other night, clean and luxurious, the slight tang of a lemon-based cleaner.

Bill didn’t say anything else and when the car quickly pulled away, I found myself breathing out with relief.

Well, not really with relief, but in a way it felt like the harder bit had been done just getting in the car. The decision had been made. There was no turning back.

I watched the streets of London as we made our way from Finsbury back down to Bermondsey almost to where Bright Futures was on the River Thames. I watched as the car cruised past the turning to the small side street where the office was. A few more turns, not many, and the car slowed outside an abandoned warehouse.

Now this was weird.

Bill idled the engine for a moment and then switched off. “It’s 13b. On the left there, Ma’am.”

There was only one door, with 13b tacked on it in small brass lettering.

My mind skittered back to last Monday afternoon when he told me he didn’t live far from the Bright Futures offices. Was this where he lived? It looked more appropriate for hobos than a prince.

I lurched forward, suddenly wanting Bill to get out of the car with me. There must be security. I mean, what if I was a rabid fan and was going to try to attack Prince Oliver?

Bill grinned at me in the mirror.

“Can I ask a question?”