Whisper

We knew we should not do it. We did it anyway. We whispered. We only ever whisper unimportant secrets.

‘There is something hidden in her manner, not open.’

 ‘There is, I agree, something secretive there, guarded.’

 ‘She wouldn't hide something that does not matter.’ 

‘So she has done something awful do you think?’

‘Done something awful, or she knows something awful.'

 ‘I heard that her mother was a bit wayward, bit of a free spirit.’

 ‘I am sure I heard that her mother had a bit of a drinking problem.’ 

 ‘No, pretty sure it was drugs.’ 

 ‘You never know do you, it’s always the seemingly normal ones that catch you out.’

 ‘I believe that her mother didn’t have much money. Wonder how she financed her habit, or is it habits?’

‘She would have stolen stuff.’

 ‘The mother disappeared you know, bet you she got caught and is in prison, as we speak.'

 'So she's adopted then, with her real mother in gaol and all'.

 'Well, that explains a lot. Come to think of it she doesn’t look much like her parents – if that’s what you call them?’ 

'I suppose they are the closest thing she has to parents now, or family for that matter.'

'They have tried their best for her though, given she is not their real daughter, so commendable.' 

‘That’s right. Remember when she was little, all those trips to hospital.’ 

‘What was that all about?’ 

‘Never did find out did we. They were rather cagey about that, avoiding us it seemed like, weird.’

‘Why would they do that? We would have helped out if they had asked us.'

' Perhaps it wasn’t a physical problem.’

‘Not right in the head does sound more likely given her background.'

‘Didn’t she threaten your daughter yesterday at school?’

‘Yes, she did. My daughter said she got quite nasty over nothing. Think there was some comment about her being a bit of a princess for not joining in. She comes back from holidays and says nothing about where she has been. The kids see it as her being uppity.’

‘Do you think she goes for treatment, like rehab or something?’

' I overheard the school principal saying that she was special and that she was keeping an eye on her.’

'Know what, I am starting to get nervous about that whole family belonging to the gun club. The two boys are really good shots.'

'Well, to be fair, lots of families belong to the club.'

'True, but we know them. This lot only moved in fifteen years ago, her and her adopted family I mean.'

'Love to know where their money comes from though, seems to be plenty of it but they are not connected to anyone we know.'

'True, makes you think.'

'Are we missing the obvious here - drugs?'

'Drug running, of course, explains plenty does it not?'

'The real mother would have the contacts. No doubt she arranged for part of the Cartel to look after the daughter and continue on the business.'

' And that makes sense of those trips overseas, why they all have guns and her being so mysterious.'

We took our story to the police. We knew we shouldn’t but we did anyway. It was too delicious to stay a whisper.

The police listened to us, gave us a good hearing. They took notes, made some calls, asked us to stay.

Within the hour the Commissioner of Police arrived and spoke with us. We told much the same story as we had earlier but we were more insistent, more certain that we were on the right track. 

The Commissioner told us that they would investigate the matter, thanked us for our diligence and stressed that we should stay quiet about this. We walked out not daring to look at each other.

We watched for any signs of a stakeout. We kept alert. We expected arrests any day. We heard, or saw, nothing from the police.

‘The police don’t want to touch them because they are in on it.’

‘You’re right, and now that they know that we know we aren’t safe.’

We whispered panic to each other. We whispered urgency to each other. We whispered fear to those who would listen to us. 

Within the month we all moved, without hesitating we left our dangerous neighbourhood, our corrupt town. We could sleep again. Whisper freely again, and we did.

Today we hurried ourselves together, creating an uproar and racket as we went. There was great news, information that was too important to whisper. 

The King was dead. Many years ago his wife and children were poisoned and he never remarried. We thought that he had no heir, but we were wrong. There was a Princess.

The Princess had been hidden from us, her whereabouts kept secret. A most trusted Royal Councillor raised her within their own family. 

They were the ones who sat by her hospital bed when she was a child. A rare heart condition they said, one that the royal family also suffered from. They joked about it with her, how she must be special, and brought her a paper crown to wear.

As she grew she noticed things. Their gardener spent a lot of time not doing much gardening. They never called a taxi, always a car and driver. They travelled often to exotic places, and the King always seemed to be staying nearby. 

Then came the incident at school when that girl started to curtsy in front of her. She could not laugh it off, though she knew she should. The more upset she became the more the other girl tormented her, heckling her about where her tiara was. 

She lost her temper and threatened retribution. She owned up about her poor behaviour to her family that night over dinner. There was silence. Her family was never silent around the dinner table.

Our whispers was getting out of hand so they told her the truth that night. The following month the entire family disappeared, only a day after we had all left town, and a year before our King died.

Throughout the Kings’ last year he was seen constantly in the companionship of a young woman. We had whispered about that often too.

So, we have a new Queen. The whisper, well not so much a whisper, is that we are not welcome - not at the Palace, not in our town, not even in our own country.