Soupworth, a functionary in Human Resources, was sitting in his cubicle when a notification came across his computer screen. Your two o’clock appointment is here.
He stepped out to find an attractive woman in her thirties sitting there, dark hair and eyes and a lavish smile of perfect teeth. Soupworth nodded neutrally, as human resources officials do, and quietly wondered which of The Firm’s employees had harassed her – The Firm had a bad history on that score. He directed her to the seat next to his desk.
“Well, very pleased, Ms.….” he said, looking at his screen as his fingers on the keyboard awaited her response.
“Markle,” she said. “Meghan Markle. Although you might have me in the system as Meghan Markle Windsor.”
“Your Highness!” Soupworth turned and phumphered apologetically, having not recognized her. “My apologies, but I am required to fill out this form,” he said awkwardly. “Could you state your position here?”
“Duchess of Sussex,” she replied.
“Thank you,” Soupworth said with a rigid smile. “Now, what brings you to Human Resources today?”
“I have several questions about benefits.”
“Well, rest assured we offer the very best in benefits for executives at your level in The Firm. We offer health, dental, pension, castle, servants and footmen, stable privileges, ownership of all the swans in the Thames, driving without a license, personal poet, hunting dogs –”
“My questions really concern titles.”
“Titles, you say? Well, that is something of a gray area,” Soupworth confessed. “We might consult the Human Resources manual, but unfortunately,” and here he began rummaging across his desk, “I don’t seem to be able to find it –”
“I brought the relevant page with me,” Meghan replied, and took a piece of paper from her purse. “The grandchildren of the sons of any such sovereign in the direct male line (save only the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales) shall have and enjoy in all occasions the style and title enjoyed by the children of dukes of these our realms. George V put it in the manual when he was CEO in 1917. Although I understand a revision in 2011 made it apply to male and female children.”
“Yes,” Soupworth grunted, “ So, what is your issue?”
“My issue, so to speak, is my baby son, Archie.”
“Oh yes! I have heard -- congratulations! Let me remind you about our very liberal maternity leave policy – you can leave your baby with any servant you like!” Soupworth enthused. “Oh, I do love babies. Have you a picture?”
“Not with me, but it’s in the Sun,” Meghan said. “But my problem is this. Archie has been denied the title ‘Prince.’”
Soupworth cleared his throat. “Well, not everybody can be a Prince or a Princess. If every descendant of a Prince or Princess became a Prince or a Princess, there’d be Princes and Princesses all over the place, which defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? Besides, you’re already a
Duchess, which is a very good situation for a young person such as yourself.”
“The manual says the grandchildren of the son of the sovereign shall have the title enjoyed by the children of dukes, and my husband, the Duke of Sussex, is Prince Harry. And he is a grandchild of Charles, the Prince of Wales.”
“So it would appear,” Soupworth deflected, “but the manual gives the CEO considerable discretion in these matters --”
“And all I want is that discretion be exercised fairly. For example, Eugenie and Beatrice are the children of Harry’s uncle, Prince Andrew, and they enjoy the title Princess, but my little Archie hasn’t been made a Prince.”
“Yes, in that circumstance the title was bestowed –”
“And Archie is now seventh in line of succession, while Eugenie and Beatrice are ninth and tenth.”
“I'm sure we can sort this all out,” Soupworth replied, pursing his lips.
“And, while it might not be immediately relevant, Prince Andrew, is a serial rapist of underage girls enabled by Jeffrey Epstein.”
“Well, that does sound somewhat damning when you say it like that. But The Firm tries to take a forgiving approach to our employees when they act in a moment of weakness. You know, Richard III and those poor little boys, Henry the Second and the Thomas Beckett business – just a misunderstanding there, really – or Queen Victoria’s grandson, Prince Albert Victor, who seems to have been Jack the Ripper. We value stability here at the Firm and, well, these things happen. You can’t hold a Royal to the standards one would apply to, say, the Governor of New York.” Soupworth could see the waters around him were getting deeper.
“But why would Archie be denied a title that would ordinarily be his in due course? Why would he, or for that matter, I, be treated differently?”
Soupworth bit his lip momentarily. “Perhaps it’s because you are – my my, this is rather delicate, isn’t it? How should I say this –"
“What is it that troubles you so, Mr. Soupworth?”
“Very well. Perhaps it’s that you are…,” he said, taking a large breath, “American!”
Meghan was unruffled. “American? But I have become a British citizen! I know what a kip, a boot, a bog, a quid, a wanker, and a brolly are, and I’ve learned when people here say “brilliant,” they don’t mean it. I even learned to drive on the left and have injured fewer people while doing so than Prince Phillip has! I’m a better Englishwoman than many members of The Firm. For example, Prince Carl Eduard, the Duke of Coburg, grandson of Victoria and Albert, who fought for Germany in two world wars and ran the German Red Cross during the second.”
“Well, we do try to encourage charitable endeavors, and as they say, blood is thicker than basic decency.”
“Or for that matter, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, who spent a decade either supporting Hitler or having rough sex.”
Soupworth nodded. “Yes, I see your point.”
“Then what is it about me that had led to Archie being denied what is rightfully his? I still don’t understand the discrepancy.”
Soupworth exhaled deeply. “Well, it’s hard to say. But perhaps it’s because you are -- well, once again, I hesitate to say it out loud, as provocative as it is –”
“Just speak up, Soupworth. We can’t make progress if we don’t say what’s on our minds.”
“Very well,” Soupworth said wearily. “It’s only conjecture on my part, but it may be you are -- a divorcee.”
“A divorcee,” Meghan said, considering it. “Well, yes I am. But Camilla was a divorcee and was offered the title ‘Princess’ when she married Charles. She only refused it because she knew the British people thought of their beloved Diana as ‘The Princess of Wales,’ but never her. Besides, were Camilla to die, there’d be no ‘Candle In the Wind’ at the funeral, just ‘Jolene,’ or maybe ‘Second Hand Rose.’ And Camilla had been married to her practice husband for twenty-two years.”
“Yes, I recall,” said Soupworth noncommittally.
“And had two children. And then there’s Margaret, who divorced her randy little photographer yet somehow continued as Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowden, and that was after she carried on in public with Lieutenant Townsend, who was divorced himself.”
“We’ve all seen The Crown, Your Highness.”
“Then if it isn’t my being an American, or being a divorcee, then what is the problem?” Meghan asked insistently.
Soupworth’s brow furrowed. “Well, if your problem can’t be explained by your being an American, nor being a divorcee, then perhaps it’s…” and here he hesitated, fidgeting nervously, “..well, once again, I find myself dealing with an awkward subject…”
“Please be direct, Soupworth. We must get to the heart of the matter.”
“Very well then. Perhaps the problem is you are…a commoner!”
“A commoner? What about Sarah Ferguson? Her children are Princesses!”
“The Duchess of York is descended from Charles II himself,” Soupworth reminded her.
“Yes, by way of one of his numerous bastards, which is as common as you can get. Besides – I’m not a commoner, I’m a Hollywood star!”
“You were on basic cable, Your Highness.”
“So was Walter White, Soupworth. But if it’s not a matter of my being an American, or a divorcee, or a commoner, then what on Earth is the matter?”
Soupworth shrugged. “It could just be a simple misunderstanding, because I really can’t think of any other explanation,” Soupworth said.
Meghan’s eyes widened. “There is another explanation –”
“Well, it will do us no good to conjecture,” Soupworth interrupted. “Let me make a note to look into the situation and get back to you. Is there anything else?”
“It regards my mental health.”
“Mental health,” Soupworth repeated as he entered the information, then smiled pleasantly. “Well, on that score, there is good news. While I seem to have momentarily misplaced my manual, The Firm’s executive benefits program has a number of alternatives for Firm members who are a bit, how shall we say, down in the dumps. For example, there’s grouse hunting at Balmoral, which is also a good place to take a nice drive across the moor. And there’s Sandringham, which is a lovely castle, and offers horseback riding and pigeon racing, which are superb for taking one’s mind off one’s problems. And it’s a short walk to St. Mary Magdalene Church, and confession is always good for the soul, isn’t? Unfortunately, the Britannia, Her Majesty’s yacht, has been decommissioned, or you could enjoy a boat trip.”
“I need more help than a boat ride,” Meghan said.
“Well, that is unfortunate. Let me ask – has your mental state interfered with your ability to perform your duties?”
“I don’t think so,” Meghan said. “I’ve been posing for pictures, waving my hand with a very slight rotation in the wrist, wearing stylish hats at a rakish angle, standing next to Harry when he visits one of his Trusts – I think I’ve got it all covered. But I’ve been unhappy as I’ve been doing it!”
“Unhappy you say?” Soupworth sighed. “Well, I am afraid The Firm does not recognize unhappiness as a condition. Granted, you might be discomfited, or perhaps be suffering from a certain unease, or perhaps experiencing an unsettled feeling. But we are The Firm and this is what we do. We are not happy or unhappy, we simply are. So my advice to you is to stop being unhappy, and if you follow this advice, you will feel much better. As I said earlier, this is all something of a gray area.”
Meghan rose. “Frankly, Soupworth, it does not seem like a gray area. It feels more like a black and white one to me.” She picked up her purse and prepared to leave. “I’m sorry you can’t find a way to address my concerns, Mr. Soupworth. I can see this issue requires elevation -- I’ll simply have to take my case to the very top and see if I can address my grievances with her!”
Soupworth sputtered nervously as he contemplated Meghan’s proposed course of action. “Your Highness! I must urge caution! It is just not done. One does not approach the Queen with complaints about your titles or dissatisfactions! Let me assure you, she is not as congenial as Claire Foy, or even Olivia Coleman or Helen Mirren! Even someone such as yourself does not simply barge into her chambers and say, Your Majesty, Queen Elizabeth –”
“Queen Elizabeth? Oh, no! “ Meghan said. “I’m talking about the real queen, Soupworth! Oprah!”
Comments