#then last year my mother made me watch the original Tron

[what-bot]

Wild that I’ve had this for years (because I liked Daft Punk) and am now getting into Tron.

OohohOOOO IT’S AN IDENTITY DISC

Booklet pages under the cut (Images are out of order from the pages)

[neriad13]

Favorite Media of 2020!

There was a large swathe of this year during which I was unable to concentrate on reading (as there probably was for a lot of other typically-frequent readers), so, as a result, I ended up listening to way more podcasts and watching way more TV shows. Not a bad thing, but boy did I read way less books than usual. 

However, for the first time in a while, the amount of fiction I read was about equal with the amount of nonfiction I read. Last year’s reading resolution was to read more fiction, so...success??

I did read a lot of phenomenal fiction when I had the energy to do so this year.

Books - Fiction

The Martian - Andy Weir

This book is the hardest of the hard sci fi I think I’ve ever read. Every single aspect of it is minutely researched and calculated. The author literally wrote equations to write this book. The science is insanely impressive and yet...it never loses its sense of humor or humanity in the mix. In fact, they’re the thing that drives the entire story.

Warlock Holmes - G. S. Denning

Way early in the year I was strolling down the fantasy aisle at the library, when this cover caught my eye. I took one look at it, went “oh, this looks silly” and...proceeded to devour the entire series in a matter of weeks. 

It is very silly. Especially when it’s pointing out something that was silly in the original. There’s something so satisfying about Watson immediately answering Holmes with the correct number of steps in their flat when he’s trying to make his point about how most people don’t pay attention to things like that.

World War Z - Max Brooks

Every single scenario in here could easily support an entire book. A park ranger whose job it is to contain the yearly zombie spring thaw? HECK YES. I’d read tens of thousands of words about that. A Chinese admiral who defaults, steals the government’s premier submarine, loads it up with the families of his underlings and takes to the sea for years to live in the maritime economy that has sprung up in a world where everyone is trying to escape the shore? That could be an entire movie on its own. 

Every chapter was more creative than the last and as a huge worldbuilding fan, this book was so, so fun.

An Unkindness of Ghosts - Rivers Solomon

In which a queer, neurodivergent protagonist solves a mystery on a spaceship which is a microcosm of antebellum era politics! This had a beautiful, mysterious, wonder-inducing writing style and it was a joy to peer into the wildly differing minds of every single character.

Books - Nonfiction

Underland - Robert MacFarlane

In every chapter, the author visits a different hole. Basically.

It’s an exploration of caves, catacombs, mines, nuclear waste facilities and the hidden underbelly of every forest. It was fascinating. And fundamentally changed how I look at time.

Rejected Princesses - Jason Porath

After years of having enjoyed the web entries, I finally got my hands on the first book and was not disappointed. 

There are the more entertaining entries, of course and the art is as charming as always, but what struck me the most were the more difficult stories. The deeper you go into this book, the more horrific it gets. The author does not hold back on the indignities suffered by the historical figures he writes about. It’s terrible...but also very, very illuminating.

The Gift of Fear - Gavin De Becker

This book - while maintaining all the essential information in it - could be pared down to one sentence in a sea of blank pages and that sentence would be: trust your instincts. End of story.

But in a world where instincts are either customarily suppressed or going haywire, it’s not quite that easy, which is why I’m glad there is more to the book.

I picked it up thinking “ha ha, betcha can’t help a person with anxiety who fears all the time already” and...what it actually ended up doing was giving me the tools to differentiate between real fear and unfounded fear. And did help with the anxiety quite a bit.

Fanfiction

Watch Over Me - cakeisatruth

A Bioshock fic from the point of view of a little sister who is learning how to trust and be an ordinary child again. Dark and sweet. An excellent combo.

All That is Visible - Ultima_Thule

An exploration of a minor character in a well researched historical context? That’s my jam! How did they know?? A Tron fic about what it’s like to be a female programmer in the 70s.

Graphic Novels

The Adventure Zone - McElroys + Carey Pietsch

Yesssssssss! It was a running-to-the-library type event whenever my library got a new volume in. The jokes are so good, the art is so lively and the ways in which they added the details that the podcast couldn’t necessarily get across is *mwah*

Trail of Blood - Shuuzou Oshimi

Hoooooooly shit, the art style of this one!! It’s beautifully detailed and expressive, sure, but the real draw for me was how it changes with the emotional state of the main character. There’s this sequence in which he’s consumed with anxiety at school and all of his classmates become blurry and unfocused, until they can’t be recognized as humans at all, that particularly sticks with me.

It’s a horror story about a kid who witnesses his loving mother push his cousin off a cliff for seemingly no reason and is then obligated by her to keep the secret, which is eating him from the inside out. It’s so good, guys, please read it.

Level Up - Gene Lien Yang/Thien Pham

A story about a kid who is haunted by his late father’s desire for him to become a gastroenterologist. It’s funny and touching and the ending gave me what I can only describe as a feeling of exhilaration. Y’know that feeling when something unexpected but not out of left field, perfectly in tune with the narrative arc and gut bustingly funny happens, all in the same panel? That one.

Film

Searching

This is a fairly standard thriller about a dad trying to find out what happened to his missing daughter. It’s also found footage...but not in the usual way, which was what made it so compelling to me. It’s told through the dad’s phone calls, google searches, social media interactions, news footage, security cameras and webcams. It was such a cool way to tell a story.

Train to Busan

There’s a lot that’s already been said about this movie and I don’t think there’s much more I can meaningfully add to that. Suffice to say that ya gotta take care of each other if you’re going to survive a zombie apocalypse!!

TV Series

My Brother’s Husband

As close to a perfect adaptation as a person can get (barring the entire conversation in English which was...oof). I was so happy when they took it a step further and showed Kana and Yaichi actually getting to meet Mike’s family.

Zumbo’s Just Desserts

I watched a lot of baking shows this year. Like...a lot. They were my much-needed comfort viewing for the year and this one was my favorite, even over The Great British Baking Show (which I LOVE). Why? Because the pastry chef for whom it’s named makes such bizarre and wonderful desserts and fosters an environment in which the competitors do the same. I’ve never seen anything like a lot of the desserts that make an appearance on this show. Every single episode was an awesome surprise and so help me, this show had better get a third season.

She-ra and the Princesses of Power

There’s also a lot that’s been said about this one, so I won’t say much more. Suffice to say: DAMN. That’s how you do an 80s toy tie-in cartoon remake.

Infinity Train

This show’s premise is probably the most unique I’ve seen in recent years. Its balance of comedy, horror and existential dread is also *mwah* I also love how much it trusts the viewer to figure things out on their own.

Primal

A late entry sliding in before the year ends! I finally got to watch the second half of the first season last weekend and it was EXCELLENT. The pacing, the brutal fight scenes, the adorable dinosaur antics, the animation, the quiet moments - *mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah*

The most emotional moment for me was the part in which the protagonists watch, with sorrow, as the rabid dinosaur who’s been trying to kill them all night dies an excruciating death.

Also it sets up a fascinating new plotline right before ending in a cliffhanger!! Another one for the ‘had better get a next season’ list.

Games

Night in the Woods

This is one that’s been on my to play list for a few years and I was so glad I finally got my hands on it. It’s like...The Millennial Experience (TM), the game. I felt so seen, playing it. The character writing was fantastic.

Prey

I don’t know why I put off finishing this for so long. I guess I wasn’t in the right alien killing headspace for a while?? Anyway, the setting is gorgeous, the alien biology is weird and cool, the ethics are delightfully murky and the interconnectedness of the station was really cool, especially in the OH SHIT moments at the end. 

Podcasts

The Adventure Zone

I tried to narrow this down to one favorite arc, but found that I couldn’t do it. I love Balance for its comedy and creative energy. I love Amnesty for its drama and acting. I am loving Graduation for the depth of its world and the way in which the real story behind everything that’s happened is slowly unfurling. It’s a good podcast all around.  

The Magnus Archives

Who obsessively listened to every single season while playing Minecraft in about a month? Surely not me, nooooo. Of course not.

There’s also been a lot said on this one, so I’ll keep it brief. I’ve seen things in here that I haven’t really seen elsewhere in horror. My particular favorites were the creepy psychiatric hospital in which the horror comes not from the patients, but from the denial of the doctor to believe them about their mental illnesses and every single thing related to the Anthropocene. The one with the Amazonian village made out of trash - CHILLS.

[katefiction]

Revolution, Part 1

by katefiction (Maria) / 2014

It was a boiling hot day, the day before. I remember because George’s cheeks were bright red all day long. I’d had to resort to stripping him down to a vest and his nappy to keep him cool. It didn’t help that he’d recently discovered how to run. Every fourth step, he would lose his balance and fall to the floor, but he was so happy using his legs, chasing Lupo around the apartment and screeching as he went.

‘George, come here!’ I shouted, grabbing his arm as he ran past me.

I wiped his face and back down with a cold flannel, and made him sip on some water.

‘Ok, go’ I said, releasing him into the wild again.

The air conditioning had broken down a month back, or been switched off. We didn’t know which, but suspected the latter. We had been strongly advised not to open any windows, it would be “inviting trouble”, they had told us.

We’d had to make do with a few portable fans, but that wasn’t enough to cool down our twenty-room home. We decided instead to use only the rooms we needed and it was beginning to feel like a cage. Of course, I would never say that out loud.

With George occupied by Lupo, I sat myself down on the couch with a glass of iced tea. I never thought I’d be this kind of person. A housewife with nothing better to do than sit at home all day and watch daytime TV. But there I was expertly flicking through the channels, deciding between a DIY makeover show and a chat show. The news channels weren’t an option for me, I was sick to the teeth of the constant discussion; the repetition; the poring over of every detail hour after hour.

It was only when George commanded my attention that I snapped out of my zombie like state.

‘Da!’ he shouted, throwing his blue rhinoceros stuffed toy at my feet.

‘Georgie, don’t throw poor Ronald, that’s not nice’ I grabbed the toy and cuddled it to my chest, prompting George to reach out his little chubby arms.

I handed Ronald back to him and he smiled for a second or two before throwing him down again. ‘Da!?’

Ronald was a gift from William, and had quickly become George’s favourite toy. So much so, that he sat in George’s cot every night, standing guard over him.

‘Da? Da! Da?!’

‘Baby, he’s not home yet’, I scooped him up off the floor for a kiss and a cuddle, but he quickly wriggled out of my grasp.

Much to my annoyance, George had said ‘Da’ before he’d said ‘Mu’, which were his names for us. William had revelled in the fact that it was his first word, taunting me about it with the perseverance of a woodpecker.

Forcing myself off the couch, I decided to start on dinner. When I opened the fridge however, it was all but empty. A few vegetables sat limply in the bottom drawer and milk for George was lined up on the shelves. I sighed and slammed it shut. In the kitchen cupboard were a few cans of soup that we could eat with some bread. It riled me to see our kitchen so barren.

William came home at five, just as I was deciding between tomato and leek and potato for the third time that week.

‘Hey’ he said, leaving the door ajar for a few seconds to let some air in. His face was so tired, with dark patches under his eyes as if a storm cloud were shadowing his face.  

‘Hey, how was it?’

He rubbed his worn face with his hand. ‘They won’t budge’

I sighed and turned away from him, ‘did you ask when our food would be delivered?’

‘I forgot’

For days I regretted how I acted next, wondering if it was that which pushed him over the edge.

‘William, I asked you to do one thing!’

‘I had more important things to think about’, he said, too tired to argue.

‘More important than feeding your son?’

‘Not tonight Kate, please…’

I slammed the can of soup down on the counter and tried to pull the ring pull back, but it wouldn’t move.

‘For God’s sake!’ I muttered under my breath.

William came over to me, his body hot from the searing heat, ‘leave it, we’ll order pizza’

‘We can’t live on takeaway’ I said unreasonably.

‘George’s got puree in the freezer; we can cope with pizza tonight. I’ll sort the groceries tomorrow, I promise’

I leant back into his chest and closed my eyes, ‘I’m sorry’

‘So am I’ he said, pushing his mouth into the top of my head.

‘So, what did they say?’ I asked finally.

‘The decision was final, all my engagements are cancelled, and I’m not to be seen in public until they say so’

‘Didn’t Jamie try and convince them?’

‘He was out-numbered; there was nothing he could do’

Over the last two months, our court had been slowly transformed with letters of resignation coming in every couple of weeks, until there was only Jamie left of our original staff. He was supposed to have all but left, but loyally, he’d stayed on. In place of our trusted advisers had come strangers who were now advising us that we shouldn’t even leave our home.

‘We need to get rid of them, we can do with just Jamie for now’ I said.

‘That would be admitting defeat; we can’t do without a court’

‘Do you trust them?’

‘I don’t know’. He pulled the pizza menu from the letter rack and sat down at the breakfast bar.

That was when I knew we were in trouble. William had always been so sure of the people around him. Like a sniper, he would seek out anyone he couldn’t trust and cast them out. But that night, he was worried and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

*

The history books will tell you that the Revolution began on May 6 2014, when the general election was called a year early. Britain had gone to the dogs with riots flaring up around the country over benefit cuts, energy prices and unemployment to name just a few.

Those of us that lived through it will tell you that it had started years earlier. The recession hit the country hard, and May 6 was the eruption of all those years of struggle. When the Green Party came into power that day, with its promise of a new prosperous Britain, it bought with it republican ideals.

The Republic had campaigned against the monarchy for years, but it wasn’t until that May that the British public stood up and took notice. The first months of 2014 were harsh and aggressive with rains and storms hitting our little island with no mercy. People were being forced out of their homes as the rain water crept in, ominously seeping under the doors and destroying everything it touched. Every penny was being whittled away by fuel and food, and the country had had enough of the government that had failed to protect them. By May, it was at breaking point, and the Republic seized their chance to use it against our family, so warm and dry in our fortified homes.

WE ARE PAYING FOR THE MONARCHY TO FEAST WHILE WE STARVE! They shouted, mounted on the lions of Trafalgar Square.

The protests intensified, with echoes of the 2011 summer riots rising once again. Outside all the palaces in London, masses stood, placards in hand, calling for the abolition of the institution that had served their country almost a thousand years. Little children who had once been so excited to meet us, now chanted along with their mothers and fathers. My little family of three hid behind our four walls, watching from the window as the police attempted to turn them away. But this wasn’t a violent protest; it was controlled, thought out and passive aggressive.

‘What do they think will happen?!’ I appealed to William. ‘We’ll just throw money out of the windows, chuck in some priceless paintings and jewels, and that will solve this country’s problems?!’

‘They want us to disappear’ he said gravely, stepping back from the window. ‘We represent sickening wealth, it doesn’t’ matter that we’re trying to help. Come away from the window before you’re seen’

We continued our engagements as best we could, our police protection bumped up just in case. But this only angered them more. The two princes, once so loved for their ‘normal’ personas and giving natures were now brandished all over the papers as spoilt and useless. No amount of PR could turn them back.

In June the Queen left for her summer holiday early under the cover of darkness. No one, not even William, knew if she was truly in Scotland.

That was when the Revolution hit us. With Her Majesty gone, our staff left one by one. Our engagements were cancelled and we were told to stay inside for our “own safety”.

It was the beginning of the end.

*

Unlike our groceries, the pizzas arrived promptly, Americana for me and Margarita for William. As I laid out the food on the table, I listened to him over the baby monitor putting George to bed.

‘Ok GB, it’s way past your bedtime’, he said, as George drank down his milk. ‘You are a greedy guts, aren’t you? Look how fast you’ve drunk your milk’

George babbled in reply.

William couldn’t wait for the day that he and George could have full blown conversations, and neither could I. I hoped it would stop William giving him a new name every week. There was ‘GB’ or ‘Team GB’, an acronym ‘Giant Baby’ in reference to our baby’s 8lb, 6oz weight at birth and ‘Grumplestiltskin’ was for when he was tired and grumpy.

Then there were the names he gave me. ‘Mum-a-tron’ was his current favourite.

‘Just like Daddy aren’t you, big appetite…now where’s Ronald?’

I heard him stand up, the creak of the rocking chair audible in our state of the art monitors.

‘Ah ha, there he is. Ronald’s going to look after you, isn’t he? He’ll protect you no matter what, I promise’

I heard him kiss George and put him into his cot. He didn’t leave the room right away, and I knew he was standing over the cot looking at his son as he so often did when he had something on his mind.

‘Dinner’s up’ I said when he returned to the kitchen.

We took it over to the couch and William immediately put on the news as he had done most nights for the last couple of months. I sighed inwardly.

‘Shall we put something else on tonight?’ I asked hopefully.

‘I just want to watch this for a bit’, he replied, ignoring me.

‘Will, please, can we just have one night without thinking about all this?’ I pointed to the TV, where a member of the Republic was arguing with the presenter about taxation.

‘This is my only source of information, they aren’t telling me anything’ he said scornfully.

I sat back into the sofa, defeated by William’s stubbornness. He was right, though, because an hour later, a breaking news bulletin flashed up on the screen.

PRINCE CHARLES AND THE DUCHESS OF CORNWALL LEAVE BRITAIN

I jolted up from my slumped state as the presenter read from the auto cue that had evidently just popped up in front of her.

‘Aides to the Prince of Wales have confirmed he has left Britain for an undisclosed period. They have declined to reveal his location but confirm that the Duchess of Cornwall is with him. It comes after the Queen left for her annual holiday two months early allegedly due to increasing pressure from the public and the campaign group Republic. Royal sources this evening have revealed that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Prince George and Prince Harry remain in the UK’

The TV was the loudest sound in the room, but my ears were focussed on William’s breathing next to me. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and wordlessly called his father. I watched as his eyes darkened and his breathing intensified. After a few seconds, he ended the call.

‘What happened?’ I asked cautiously.

He didn’t answer me, and instead called Jamie.

‘Jamie, did you see the news? … I just tried, his phone has been disconnected … did you know? … Should we be worried? … OK, I will, bye’

‘What did he say?’

‘It’s the first he’s heard of it. He hasn’t heard from Papa’. His face was so full of worry, I just wanted to reach over and comfort him. But I knew when William was stressed, he needed time to himself.

‘What now?’

‘We stay inside until they tell us otherwise’

My phone buzzed on the sofa arm. It was my mum calling.

‘Tell her we’re ok, but nothing else’ William said, spotting the caller display, ‘we don’t know if our phones are being watched’

I reluctantly did as he said. I wanted more than anything to leave that place right then and go to stay with my parents. But something in William’s tone told me to leave my family in safety.

William, meanwhile paced around the apartment double checking every window and shutting all the curtains. He locked every door he could too.

 ‘Should we go to the panic room?’ I said anxiously when he returned.

The panic room was a high tech protected zone disguised as a normal room – in our case it was hidden behind our walk in wardrobe.

 Suddenly he softened, coming over to me and taking me in his arms, ‘don’t be silly, you’re perfectly safe’

‘Then why are you locking us in here?’

‘As a precaution. As long as I’m here, you’re protected. The only time you’ll need that room is if I’m not’

I knew he was trying to placate me, and I let him because I didn’t want him to know I was scared. Looking back, I know he was doing the same thing.

We went to bed that night anxious but comforted by each other’s presence. After touching base with Harry, I insisted we bring George into our room for the night and we placed his cot as close to the bed as possible.

‘I’m sure your father’s tried to get in touch’ I began.

‘Tomorrow…we’ll talk about it tomorrow’ he said quietly, consumed by his own thoughts.

Somehow, we managed to fall asleep. It was a sleep so deep that I didn’t hear a footstep or a whisper that night, let alone hear him leave.

*

I woke up to silence. It was 6am and my body clock told me that George would wake up and demand breakfast in half an hour. When I looked to my left and right, neither of my boys were there.

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up and find William not there. He was a light sleeper, and often he would get up before George so he could be there as soon as he woke, allowing me half an hour extra in bed. Recently, he’d been waking up before the sunrise, unable to stay in bed a moment longer than necessary.

I told myself that they were probably in the living room in front of the TV, watching the news so I lay there for a peaceful fifteen minutes, letting my body get used to being awake.

Eventually, I got up and went straight to the living room, only to find it was empty. The kitchen merely had the empty pizza boxes and menu scattered on the counter. Lupo was asleep in his basket in the corner.

Confused and trying to push down a rising sense of panic, I headed to the bathroom, which was cold and lifeless.

George’s room, I thought resolutely, chastising myself for overreacting. I would sometimes find the two of them playing in there, toys scattered all over the carpet because George only had to point and William would get whatever he wanted down from the shelf. Never mind the twenty cuddly toys already on the floor.

The room was vacant.

It was then that my heart shot into my throat.

‘William?!’ I shouted to no reply. ‘George?!’

I rushed back into the bedroom, looking for a note, checking my phone, anything. William wouldn’t have taken George for a walk without telling me, not in the current situation and certainly not without Lupo.

I felt the bile start to rise to my throat, my body breaking out into a sweat with the panic. Stay calm, I willed myself, taking deep breaths and letting my heart slow down.

I closed my eyes, and organised my thoughts. I would go through every one of our twenty rooms methodically and then and only then would I allow myself to worry. Collecting the keys from the study, I went about unlocking every door that William had locked the night before, switching on the lights to make extra sure as William had drawn all the curtains.

When I finished without finding a thing, I went back to our bedroom and did what a panicked wife and mother would do. I tried ringing him.

His phone went off within seconds, still lying on his bedside table where he always left it. My face popped up on the screen as it rang, smiling brightly into the camera. I wanted to throw it against the wall.

What was I supposed to do next? Who was I supposed to call? My mind blurred with all the things I’d been told in my training for emergencies when I’d married William. He would know what to do, I thought, my frustration momentarily overtaking my fear. I had never felt as alone as I did in that moment, my child missing, and my husband not there to calm me down.  

We hadn’t planned what I’d do without him. ‘As long as I’m here, you’re protected’, he’d said the night before as if it was so simple.

Then, as if from nowhere, and in the most inappropriate of circumstances, a memory flashed through my mind. Every year we would join my family on holiday in the Caribbean. What I loved more than anything was standing in the crystal waters, the sun on my back, waiting for the warm waves to wash over my legs. No matter what was happening in my life – an imminent break up or a tough pregnancy – that moment was like hope rushing in.

Standing in my bedroom that day, sweat dripping down my face, the same sense of hope washed over my body, a force so strong it nearly pushed me backwards.

‘The only time you’ll need that room is if I’m not’

I hurled myself towards our walk in wardrobe. The door was closed and I knew immediately someone had been inside. We never closed that door.

Switching on the light, I hurried to the end of the long narrow room, which was lined top to bottom with shelves and rails of clothes, shoes and accessories. At the back end of the room, William’s suits hung immaculately in a row and I pushed them aside roughly to reveal a small, barely visible panel concealed within the wall.

There was a brass latch along the skirting board, and I struggled to remember where it was, fumbling my fingers along it until after what felt like an age, my finger landed on the piece of cold metal. Pulling it up, I heard the panel click and it jutted out, allowing me to slide it to one side.

Behind it hid a thick, heavy metal door. The last time I’d seen it was when we’d moved in. Security had shown us just how secure it was, the loud clunk of the four door latches filling the room. It did so again as I pushed down the handle, and breathed a sigh of relief as I found that it was unlocked. Pushing it open, I entered the room. The lights were cut out and the darkness engulfed me. My other senses strained to make up for the loss of my sight.

After a few seconds, I heard him, his tiny chest heaving in his slumber.

I stumbled around the tiny square room, running my hands clumsily along the wall until I found the light switch.

George was lying in the middle of the room. I hadn’t noticed when I rushed through the wardrobe, but the bottom draw from the large chest in the closet had been removed. It usually held my knitted jumpers, and now it held my baby.

I almost screamed with relief when I saw him lying there in his makeshift cot. Next to him was Ronald. I pulled him out as gently as I could but couldn’t help but squeeze him tightly.

‘Thank God, thank God’ I whispered, kneeling on the ground. ‘How did you get in here baby?’

George fussed in my arms, displeased to be woken up.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ I said trying to stay calm. ‘Where’s your silly daddy gone?’

Taking the room in, it revealed two phones, a radio transmitter, a box of emergency unperishable food, and a small portable toilet in the corner. But no William.

Taking George with me, I circled the apartment again, looking in every single room again for sign of him. I tried to convince myself that he’d just gone out for an emergency meeting or something, but the cold silence in our home told me different.

Returning to the panic room with a bottle of milk, some food and my phone, I decided we should stay in there until I decided what to do. After all, would it be overreacting to call the office, the protection officers even? He had only been gone a few hours at the most. I took Lupo with us too, who by that time, was just as awake as George, and I hoped that they would keep each other entertained while we waited for word from William.

George now fully alert and drinking his milk happily, climbed back into the drawer. If William were there, I knew he would’ve pushed George around in it, pretending it was a boat or a tank. I knelt beside him and noticed my hands trembling.

It was at that moment that I saw it, just as George joyfully threw Ronald from the drawer. Nestled between my knits; a note written haphazardly on a scrap piece of paper.

Don’t come looking. I’m sorry.

*

Jamie arrived within half an hour of my call; as if he was expecting it. With him were two of our new “advisers”. Steven, a tall lanky man in his early forties with sandy blonde hair and sharp features was calm and controlled. In comparison, the new press secretary, Alec, overweight and balding, had been loud and brash every time we’d had the misfortune to encounter him.

‘Ma’am’, they all said, Steven and Alec bowing their heads reluctantly.

‘What exactly happened Ma’am?’ Jamie said kindly, noticing my obvious distress to which the other two were oblivious.

I explained everything from start to finish, all the essential parts anyway. ‘There’s no reason that he would leave like this, something must’ve happened’ I said calmly as I could.

‘Let’s not go over the top here’ Alec said, his voice booming around the room, ‘there’s probably an explanation – have you tried calling him?’

‘Of course I have! He left his phone here’

‘With all due respect’ Steven said, chiming in, ‘it has only been a few hours, perhaps we should wait before jumping to conclusions’

‘I’m not jumping to anything; he would not leave us like this, not after yesterday’

‘And of course we’ll do our best to help’ Jamie said.

‘But we do have a lot on, you understand, we can’t go on a wild goose chase’ Alec looked pointedly at Jamie. ‘Tell me, where’s the little one?’

‘Asleep in the nursery’ I said cautiously. I didn’t like strangers getting too close to George, and as far as I was concerned, Steven and Alec were just that.

‘I believe the duke has been under a lot of pressure recently’ Steven said coldly, ‘perhaps his leaving has something to do with domestic matters?’

I grew hot with embarrassment and anger, ‘what are you insinuating?’

 ‘Did anything happen last night that might have encouraged him to leave?’

‘We had a tiny disagreement about not having any food in the house, but it was nothing’

‘Sometimes small arguments can cause people to re-evaluate things, especially with the big changes happening of late‘

‘My husband has not left me’ I said with a shaking confidence. ’Something has happened to him, besides he hasn’t taken a single thing with him’

Steven nodded patronisingly. ‘We’ll look into it’

‘Give it a few more days though’ Alec added.

I realised then that they were going to do nothing to help me find William. I looked to Jamie for back up.

‘I’ll be right behind you’ he said to the other two, who were making moves to leave.

‘We can wait’ Steven said, halting on the spot.

Jamie looked right at me, his eyes unwavering. It was as if he were trying to communicate something to me without words. ‘I’m sure he’s just fine, Ma’am’.

* 

The following days were filled with anxious waiting and little to no sleep. It had been seventy two hours since William had disappeared and I hadn’t heard a thing. I had tried countless times to convince Jamie that we should call the police. 

At first he told me that we had to wait twenty four hours before reporting a missing person. When those twenty four hours came and I rushed down to his office to make the call, he was apologetic, telling me we should wait a bit longer.

On the third day, I was back in his office yet again.

‘The problem is Ma’am, he left a note, so he’s not technically missing’ he said, wiping his brow, the heat still searing.

‘He’s been gone three days Jamie. You know as well as I do, something isn’t right’

‘I’m afraid the police won’t see it like that, they’ll agree that he left of his own accord’.

Stephen appeared from the adjoining office after hearing my voice. I had managed to avoid him and Alec for the past three days.

‘Is there anything I can help with?’ he said, his voice sending uncomfortable waves of nausea through me.

‘Nothing’ I said shortly.

I glanced in the direction of his office, finding something to focus on that wasn’t his sharp, sly face. He stepped to one side as if to block the doorway from my view. Our old staff kept their doors open for us, happy for us to know what they were doing and discussing.

‘Where’s the little’un today?’ he asked with an informality that was clearly against every bone in his body.

‘He’s being looked after’

‘By whom may I ask? I didn’t see your mother arrive’

Stephen and Alec had CCTV monitors installed in that office. Ever since the protests outside the palace, the security had been intensified. George’s nanny had been let go too, we couldn’t let her stay with us in potential danger no matter how much George loved her. I wondered whether Stephen and Alec’s concern was not really about who was coming in, but who was going out.

‘George is fine. Thank you’ I said.

‘If you insist. Ma’am’ He nodded curtly and slid back into his office.

I bolted up the stairs the minute I left the office. How could I be so stupid to leave George with someone outside the family?

‘Antonella!’ I yelled when I got into the apartment. ‘Antonella, where are you?’

The comforting smell of tomato and basil wafted from the kitchen, followed by the shuffling feet of our some-time cook and housekeeper. Jamie had finally convinced Steven and Alec to let her return after weeks of her not being allowed “for security reasons”.

‘Yes Ma’am’ she said, her tone one of constant worry nowadays.

‘Where’s George?’ I said irrationally and out of breath.

‘In his cot Ma’am, where you left him’

Clearly, Antonella was confused by my sudden change of attitude. Ten minutes previously, I’d asked her to watch George while he was napping so I could speak to Jamie.

I ran into the nursery to check on him, where he was splayed on his front like a starfish, gentle snores escaping his mouth.

‘You should probably go’, I said to Antonella when I returned to the kitchen.

‘But what about the din-‘

‘I said go!’ I shouted this time, my steady façade gone.

She didn’t hesitate, gathering up her things and scuttling out of the door.

It was only when the door clicked shut that I let myself crumple into a heap on the floor. I gathered my knees to my chest and sobbed into them, great wells of tears that had been bursting at the seams for three days. I had no idea where William was and no hope of finding him. I had been convincing myself that he wouldn’t leave us, but spanning my mind back, my bitchiness over the food and his stress that night made me doubt myself. Maybe he just wanted out.

I picked myself up and tuned off the stove, where Antonella’s pasta sauce was close to burning. I couldn’t bear to eat anything now.

*

That night, I sat on my bedroom window ledge, unable to sleep. Scrolling through William’s phone for the fiftieth time, I flicked through his picture album. Before George was born, I would tease him for only having six pictures stored in his phone, compared to my two hundred. But now, his was as full as mine, with shots of George from the day he was born to just last week when he was trying to climb on top of Lupo.

I looked out into the black night, wondering how he could have left all this. I thought about where he might go to escape.

Scotland, Windsor? Too close.

Kenya? That was his favourite place on earth, after all. But people knew him there now.

William had once told me, ‘I’d love to move somewhere where I could lose my identity, to be small fish in a big pond, a nobody’.

I had just laughed at him and told him he’d have a hard job finding such a place.  

I shook away the thought of him being far from me and focused back on the night he left.

Did he leave through the front entrance, the darkness of Kensington Gardens engulfing him so he wasn’t seen? Or perhaps through the back, scurrying into a car while we were all asleep?

As if knowing which exit he used would help me find him, I chided myself.

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. There was a way I could know how he left, of course there was.

I wrapped George in a blanket, careful not to wake him and tip toed out of the apartment. It was almost midnight and all the staff had gone home, at least I hoped.

As I unlocked the office door, I silently thanked Jamie for giving me a key when William and I had married. Those days of transparency were long gone now, I knew that much. I headed straight to Steven and Alec’s annexed office, where this morning, Steven had been so unwilling to let me see inside. Mercifully, it was unlocked.

Suspended on the wall was a plasma screen split into twelve, each showing a different entrance of the palace. Now, there was no movement, but I knew if I looked for the tape from the night William left, I may just have something to see. Swopping George to my other arm, I pulled open the heavy drawer of the filing cabinet under the screen and found rows of cds all neatly labelled with dates. William disappeared on the 12th and my heart pace increased and I spotted the July section.

10th, 11th,   13th.

George whined in my arms as if sensing my distress.

‘Shhh baby, shh, Mummy’s here’

I knew there was no point looking for the missing cd, it was gone, most likely destroyed. It only confirmed my belief that I was swimming against the tide. Not only were these new advisers reluctant to help me, they were actively hiding information.

‘Yes it’s getting in the morning edition’ a voice said, coming from nowhere and startling me. ‘Ha! Runaway Prince, I like it’

It was Alec, and by the sound of it, he was out in the corridor.

I panicked, ducking down under Steven’s desk. George didn’t like the sudden movement and let out a cry.

‘Shhhh!’ I said holding his head close to my chest, my heart beating like a drum.

Alec continued. ‘What? Yeh I told them she’s frantic, prissy little bi-‘

George cried, louder this time.

I crouched lower, ‘please baby, be quiet for Mummy’ I whispered desperately.

I heard the outer office door creak and after a long pause, his breathing low and heavy, he finally spoke again.

‘Oh nothing…just a cat outside. Anyway, make sure you get the message to Redfern tomorrow, we don’t want him staging a comeback…’

Alec’s voice trailed off as he shut the door and left. I breathed a sigh of relief, planting kisses all over George’s face for keeping quiet when he really needed to.

*

Back in the apartment, I paced the lushly carpeted floor. Who was Redfern and what did he need to know? I’d never heard of that name, and desperately wanted to call Jamie to ask him. But I now realised the lengths Steven and Alec were prepared to go, and couldn’t risk using my phone.

My eyes were tired, deep bags forming under them, but I couldn’t sleep. Out of desperation and insomnia, I fired up the laptop and typed ‘Redfern’ into Google. The first couple of results were meaningless; a publishing house and a photographer with the name.

But the third caught my eye.

Redfern, Iowa

I clicked on the link.

Redfern is a town is Iowa, United States. The population in the 2010 census was 104.

I looked up from the screen, not daring to believe it, or to let myself hope.

‘I’d love to move somewhere where I could lose my identity, to be small fish in a big pond, a nobody’.

*

The sun had broken by the time I had worked out a way to contact Jamie without using my phone, which William warned me could have been bugged. A niggling feeling warned me to be careful. Maybe I couldn’t trust him either. But he was my only hope of finding William.

I hunted around in my underwear drawer and eventually found what I was looking for. Tucked into one of my socks was my old mobile phone, a Nokia to be exact. It was the very same that had been hacked all those years back. William would’ve been mortified if he knew I still had it, with all those messages still stored on there. But I couldn’t let it go, it was a potent memory of the days when our communication consisted of love yous and miss yous, unlike the last text I sent to him, which simply said Don’t forget to ask about the food.

I prayed that after all these years the old thing would be able to switch on, let alone make a call. By the time the phone had woken up, I had finished packing mine and George’s bags. I had started as soon as I’d decided that Redfern was the place I needed to go. Our bags consisted of a few clothes, as much cash as I could find, toys – Ronald of course – but mainly were filled with food and water.

It was only 5am, and feeling bad for Jamie, I delayed calling him for fifteen minutes by looking at some old text messages from William.

09/05/2006 : I can’t wait to see you baby  

How true that was now. I felt a tinge of fear that maybe I was wrong, maybe Redfern was something totally unrelated to where William had gone. I pushed the doubt aside, it was all I had left to cling on to.

*

The car pulled up quietly at eight am. Jamie had been furtive on the phone, worried about my state of mind. But I insisted and pleaded with him, and something told me he didn’t think my idea was as crazy as he made out.

‘Ok Georgie, time to go’ I said to him as he sat on the kitchen floor rolling a ball into Lupo and then shouting as if he expected him to roll it back.

Distracting myself from the fact that I was leaving my home seemed so easy when I had packing and last minute calls to make. It seemed ironic that the same phone that was infiltrated was now being used to avoid that very situation. I had explained to my family what was happening but declined to tell them where I was going. My mother was frantic.

‘Catherine, you can’t just disappear! How will we know you’re safe?!’

‘I’ll get in touch as soon as I can, I promise mummy’

It broke my heart to hear her so worried and upset, but I reasoned that if would be safer for them to not know where we were. I still didn’t know what I was up against. Harry hadn’t answered his phone but Jamie had promised to let him know where his brother was once we knew for sure.

Lupo sat solemnly on the kitchen floor as if he had heard me ask my mother to take him in. 

‘Ok boy, time to say goodbye’ I nuzzled my face into his fur but he didn’t respond. ‘Say bye bye to Lupo, George’

George waddled over and imitated me by patting him on the head. I forced back the lump in my throat. 

Carrying all three bags and George on my hip, I opened the door and looked around our home for one last time. Lupo trotted up to us and started scratching at my legs.

‘No boy, it’s just me and Georgie this time’ I pushed him down and said goodbye to him and to the life we once lived.

 *

After creeping through the servant’s corridors and out of a side door, George and I bundled into the car that was waiting for us. On the seat next to me was not Jamie as I expected, however.

‘Susannah, what are you doing here? Where’s Jamie?’ I asked, strapping George into his seat.

‘We thought it’d be safer if I came, I pretended I was going out for a morning jog and met the car on a side street’ she said.

Jamie’s wife sat next to me, a worried expression on her face.

‘You think you’re being watched?’ I asked.

‘Jamie thinks so, these ex-military types are suspicious of everyone though’, she let out a wry laugh.

‘I know the feeling’ I said, thinking of William and his intense dislike of Steven and Alec. That time he was right. 

As we set off, I tried to make conversation, ‘how did Jamie organise all this? I thought the whole palace was being watched’

‘Let’s just say there’s still some loyal people working for your family’ she smiled.

We made our way through the streets of London, I had no idea where the plane was that I’d be taking to Iowa or how Jamie managed to get it, but I didn’t ask. I was relieved enough to be away from Kensington. 

Driving around Green Park, Susannah handed me a newspaper she’d been clutching.

‘I don’t know if you’ve seen this Ma’am’

I unfolded the paper and read the headline. Exclusive! Runaway Prince! Prince William walks out on Kate.

I shut it with haste. So this was what Alec was talking about last night.

I said nothing and focused instead on our journey. The drive seemed to be taking us down the Mall and towards Buckingham Palace. As we got closer, a strange noise caught our attention. It was a mass cheering of some sort, but not the type I was used to when standing from that famous balcony. It was more like jeering. 

Getting closer to the palace, my eyes connected to the sound. 

Up on that balcony, which had been used for so many scenes of celebration was a large group of people waving their arms in victory.

Replacing the red and gold trimmed banner so often used on big occasions was something very different hanging from the the balustrade.

Blue, with a shocking pink cross struck through the middle. The Republic.

‘Good God, they’ve taken the palace’ Susannah gasped. 

From the windows of the palace, Republic flags were dotted around, flying proudly. 

On the ground, gone were the uniformed guards in their famous bearskin hats. People stood behind the golden gates cheering and shouting, and on the other side, members of the Republic pulled at the chains to let the masses in. News vans were just arriving to the scene.

We watched as the flag rose from the top of the building, where the royal standard used to fly, signifying their final victory.

‘We have to turn around, go a different route’ I heard Susannah say to the driver in panic ‘if they spot Their Royal Hignesses…’

‘Don’t call us that’ I said blankly.

Susannah looked at me but said nothing.

I kept my eves on the palace even as the driver turned the car around. Although I had only been royal for three years, the pain of watching the palace being seized throbbed through me. It was where we’d spent our first day and night as a married couple, where we’d danced all night on the wave of love and affection of the country. And now they celebrated, and no-one; no police, not even Her Majesty’s Armed Forces were there to stop them. 

‘It’s over, isn’t it?’ I whispered to no-one in particular.

George let out a long yawn, snapping me out of my daze. I turned to smile at him, he was looking out of the window, with not a care in the world. He was the spitting image of his father. It was then that I finally allowed to let myself think the unthinkable – what if we never found William, what if he was gone.

I held George’s hand, enclosing his chubby fingers in my palm as we escaped from the city.

It was just the two of us now, we were going to have to do this alone. 

‘Come on then’ I said, leaning in to him, ‘let’s go find your daddy’.