It was an open-top bus, the kind that will take you in and out and around Cornwall whenever you want to see it. The top is perfect for people like me who might become bus-sick if they sit downstairs in the heat. Bus drivers do not appreciate those sorts of customers.
We had been to St Michael's Mount, seen the magnificent statue, and gotten our feet wet along the Causeway. It was lovely just to sit.
As I did, someone in front of me said something about 'that American lady'.
"What American lady?" said her husband, glancing around.
"Her," the woman replied, thrusting a thumb in my direction. Friend Rosie was sitting with me, and perked up with lively interest. I watched cautiously as the woman continued.
"I'll bet she doesn't even know what St Michael's Mount is."
I've been accused of several things in my time, but never about this. The Mount stood magnificently to our right, just out of reach.
"I do, though," I said to her, pointing. "We've only just come from it.."
"Oh."
For a while, nothing more was said. But the woman glanced back at me from time to time, as if coming to a decision.
"Well then," she finally said. "What do you think of Meghan Markle?"
"Oh...umm..." I couldn't be sure if she was Pro or Con, and wanted to be careful. "As an American I am a little disappointed. Things started out so well, and then..."
"Disappointed?" she exclaimed, as if my response was hideously understated. "Meghan's a right little Gold Digger, that's what she is!" (Ok, so Con)
I pondered this. It could be true, although Meghan had been a famous TV star and made millions by it. But then, maybe wealth is relative.
"I used to binge-watch her television show," I ventured. "It was called 'Suits'". The woman appeared shocked at this. "In fact," I went on, "I have to admit that out of all the characters, I liked hers the most. But I didn't know she was going to marry the Prince and hurt the Queen's feelings."
This prompted a fresh barrage of intensity toward the Markle, and how very weak the prince was. I thought of Harry, and what a sweet little boy he had been; then of Meghan and her beauty, those eyes trained upon him when they first met. It wasn't the first time he had encountered such eyes. His mother's..
It was really no wonder he had fallen in love.
"Everyone was so excited about that wedding," she went on dolefully, "and thought the whole thing was romantic. WE paid for it all, you know, and for her posh house."
"'We?'" I asked, and Rosie whispered, "...tax payers."
"She had everything she wanted just like she'd wanted it, a dream of a wedding, a dream of a life, and then - it all came crashing down. Down, down, down."
There was a small silence as we considered how far down it had all come. It was pretty far. I suddenly thought of Princess Diana, and switched the subject a bit.
"I did get to meet Princess Diana, though. She was coming out of Sandringham at Christmas, and walked right up to my sister and I!" I warmed to my theme. "She shook our hands, and said, 'Wasn't that a lovely service? We all just sang our hearts out!' She was so beautiful. Her eyes shone out like two great beacons."
"Well, as to Diana," said the woman, "You KNOW her death was a conspiracy, don't you?"
Just at that moment, a buzzer went off and the bus drew to a halt.
"Oh, well that's us, then," she said, and nudged her husband into the aisle. "Nice meeting you," she ended.
"Nice meeting you, too, I'm sure.." said I.
As she descended the steps, I looked around at Ted and Emmie, then at Rosie. I could tell they were smiling beneath their masks because their eyes sparkled.
It's what I like about British buses. You never know what you're gonna get.
See you along the way!
the Scone Lady
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