Serial Dial

The Captain and His Lady

It is present day London, April 29, 2011. Prince William and Kate Middleton have just taken their vows and lining the route to celebrate is none other than Francesca Dijon. An incurable romantic Francesca throws flowers along the path of the royal carriage careful not to be too overzealous with trying to get a picture on her new LG exchange cell phone.

“I can’t believe they did it. She ’s so beautifull!”Francesca gushes to her friend Babbette Champlain who had accompanied her to the festivities.

“Wi. Mademoiselle.” Babbette agreed in their native French.

“Kate outdid herself.” remarked Francesca.

 Babbette and Francesca were Faculty at the nearby Oxford University. They had bought into all the hype about the royals but remained avid French Canadian citizens emphatic about making Quebec their home, a separate nation. The British they felt were not relevant anymore. They had been standing out there for hours. The Queens Guard lined the route keeping the crowd orderly. They were looking good with their shining boots and hats. The British had pulled out all the stops. As the parade of horses and carriages went past Francesca kept vying for the best picture. Unfortunately she caught the attention of one of the Queens’s guards on horseback.

“You, there!’ he bellowed. Then he motioned for her to move behind the gate. Francesca’s face went white as she did his bidding. Apparently she wasn’t moving fast enough because now he was sauntering over to her on his brown steed. Francesca looked flustered but was now behind the guard rail.

“Name, please!” the huge dark-skinned guard asked as he took something out of his saddlebag.

“Oh, no! I’m not being cited am I?” she asked exasperated.

“Indeed you are.” The guard answered back.

“Please, sir I didn’t know I was hanging out so far. The crowd surged.” Francesca lied.

“ Then you’ll be further back next time.” The guard said. He took Francesca’s information down then handed the citation to her and rode on.

“I’ll fight this!” Francesca screamed after him. Babbette looked mortified.

“He really gave you that? What arrogance!’ Babbette stated.

“No, you were right. I should’ve stayed further back. I don’t got no money for this either.” Francesca sighed heavily.