Chapter 27

Marbella, Spain: Summer 1985

On our return to the villa, I searched out the princess; there was something I wanted to say. On finding her, I asked if I could speak to her alone.

“What do you want?” she replied.

“Your Highness, what I have to say is best said in private.”

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, she signalled that we should move over to the patio area.

“What is it, Mark, what is so important?”

“Your Highness, an issue has arisen that casts a bad light on you. I don’t want to think badly of you and know there must be some innocent explanation for it. I know I’m not in a position to question your actions but I’m sure you would not like for me to have a misguided opinion of you.”

“Please go on, Mark,” she answered.

“Your Highness, I’ve heard the full amount of money destined for the nannies from Prince Mishari wasn’t given to them. Could you tell me why that is?”

The princess was flustered by my impudence. She couldn’t believe that someone was questioning her integrity.

“Mark, you have to consider that Prince Mishari probably did not realise how much money he was giving to the nannies. Therefore, I adjusted it according to the amount I believed he wanted them to have.”

“Now I understand,” I said, “Please forgive me my ignorance, Your Highness.”

“That’s fine, Mark, thank you for bringing the subject to my attention. I hope you don’t think badly of me now?” she said with a smile.

“Of course not, Your Royal Highness,” I said, and then made my way back to my quarters.

As I walked across the drive I thought, that’s the biggest load of bollocks I’ve ever heard!

I had seen the prince handle all different types of currency and he knew exactly what money he was giving the nannies. I wanted the princess to realise she had been caught out. I knew that I would have to watch my back now. If the princess didn’t think I had swallowed her story then the knives would be out.

A little later Prince Mishari called for me. I wondered if his wife had spoken to him about our earlier conversation. With some anxiety, I went to see him.

“Mark, I want you take these trousers to the dry cleaners.”

With some relief, I took the trousers from him and left. I had shown an aptitude for getting things done and because of it, I now found myself completing many menial tasks for them. The major things I didn’t mind doing, as I got a buzz out of getting results that others couldn’t achieve. However, the menial tasks ate away at my self-esteem. Again, I felt more like a slave than a trusted and valued asset.

For the next few days, I had little to do with the princess. I thought she was avoiding me. For the moment, I had more important things on my mind as I was feeling a little peckish, so I decided to make my way to the kitchen. With a little luck, I may be able to get a snack, I thought. As I neared the staff dining table behind the house, I found Elena sobbing her heart out. Elena did an excellent job of looking after Turki, which was a mammoth task in itself. She could often be found ironing the children’s clothes at 4am, in preparation for the next day.

She did everything for the family and once complained that she didn’t like washing the prince’s underwear because he suffered from herpes. There wasn’t anything that these nannies didn’t know about the families that they worked for.

“Elena, what’s wrong?” I asked as I passed her a serviette from the table to dry her eyes on.

Spluttering she said, “Prince Mishari has been nasty to me.”

“Why’s that, do you want to tell me?”

“It all started over a pair of white trousers. Because I didn’t have them ready he started shouting at me.”

“Hold on a minute Elena, are these the same trousers that I took to the dry-cleaners the other day?”

“Yes, those trousers,” she replied.

“Elena, stop crying. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out.”

“Thank you, Mark,” she said, drying her eyes.

I walked away, pondering how I should handle this upset. After witnessing abuses of staff by members of the royal family over the years, I had made a conscious decision not to stand by and do nothing as I had done before.

“Hey Carlo, what’s cooking?” I said as I entered the kitchen.

“I’m cooking some Chanquete,” he replied in his broken English.

Chanquete is a small fish, thin and of about two centimetres long, which taste exquisite. It was a side dish he was preparing for lunch.

“I’m starving,” I said. Carlo shrugged his shoulders. Then Hudda, another of the nannies, entered the kitchen.

“Hello Hudda, how are you today? You look nice and bright,” I said. Hudda beamed a smile at me and turned a deep shade of red, clearly embarrassed by my comments.

“Mark,” Carlo said, “Can you speak to the princess for me?”

“What about?”

“She keeps cutting down the money for the food. It is getting harder for me to prepare enough to eat for everyone.”

Bloody hell, what’s going on with this family, I thought.

It appeared the trip was falling apart at the seams, and here was I trying to tie it all together, just to keep the show on the road.

“Leave it to me, Carlo,” I said, aware that they usually shoot the messenger.

“Mark,” Hudda said, “I’ve made some shakshuka, would you like some?”

“Hudda, you are an angel.”

I tucked into the scrambled egg, onion and tomato dish and watched as Hudda again turned a deep beetroot colour.

I finished my snack and Zeinob, a maid, opened the kitchen door.

“Mark, the princess wants you. She’s by the front door.”

“Thanks everyone,” I said as I left.

“Your Highness, you called me?” I said as I surveyed a van parked in the driveway.

“Yes, Mark, I’ve bought some cheese from this man and I want you to pay him. The bill is 7000 pesetas and I want you to get a discount.”

I paid the bill and asked for a discount. The cheese man looked at me incredulously. Shrugging his shoulders, he knew I wouldn’t give in and rewarded me with a 1000 peseta discount. I felt sorry for the guy, but had to follow the order of the princess who afterwards asked me if I got a discount. When I told her, I had secured a 1000 peseta discount she said, “Is that all?”

Bloody hell, I thought, did she want me to get a discount from him or did she want me to rob him? As the princess went back into the villa, the prince walked out. Seizing the opportunity I said, “Your Royal Highness, may I have a word?”

“Yes Mark, what is it?”

“I came across Elena sobbing her heart out.”

“Why was she upset?” he replied.

“Apparently you had been nasty to her and had shouted at her over the white pair of trousers that I had taken to the dry cleaners. Elena wasn’t at fault. If you were upset, you should have directed your anger toward me.”

“Mark, I have so much on my mind at the moment. I did not mean to upset Elena, I will speak to her.”

“Thank you so much, Your Highness,” I said.

Later that day as Turki played on the amusement arcade machines, Elena approached me.

“Mark, thank you so much for speaking to the prince, he apologised for snapping at me.”

“So is everything all right between you and him now?”

“Yes it is, thank you again, Mark.”

“No worries.”

Back at the villa, I went to my quarters and lay on my bed. I soon dozed off, only to be awoken with a start by one of the Spanish national policemen that we had on static duty.

“Mark, the prince wants you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied.

Hastily I made my way over to the prince who was standing by the main entrance to the villa.

“Mark, prepare yourself, we are going to Puerto Banus in half an hour.”

“I’ll be ready, Your Highness.” This was no surprise as we went to Puerto Banus every night.

After dinner, we paraded up and down in Puerto Banus. Then the prince asked me to take the princess back to the villa. On the way, she said the prince was going to meet his brothers.

However, when I met the prince back at the port, I found him with a young woman.

“Mark, we are going to Regine’s nightclub.”

“Yes, sir,” I said as I opened the car doors for him and his guest.

At the nightclub in the Marbella Club complex, I spoke with the manager. He prepared a table for us on the edge of the dance floor. An hour or so later the prince panicked as he noticed his brothers arrive at the club. Jumping up he said, “Mark, grab the girl and dance with her. Make out she’s with you. I’m going to the toilet.”

Before I could reply, he was gone.

Taking the woman by the hand, I led her away from the dance floor. I couldn’t dance and wasn’t about to make a prat of myself for anyone.

“Listen to me, I’m so sorry but some important people have turned up and Mishari will have to sit with them to discuss some business. Please ignore him for the rest of the evening. I’m sure tomorrow he will make it up to you.”

“I think I will go back to Puerto Banus. Is that all right?” she asked.

“That’s a good idea. Go and enjoy yourself. No doubt I will see you tomorrow,” I replied. Prince Mishari never called her again. I lost count of the times he made me lie for him and clean up his mess and I lost count of the times Prince Mishari had liaisons with women other than his wife. Now and again, the princess still asked if I had seen the prince go with other women.

“Your Highness, I’ve never seen Prince Mishari ‘go’ with another woman.” I used the word ‘go’ loosely to mean actually have sex with another woman. I had not actually seen him commit the act so this was how I justified my answer. Had she asked if I had seen him in the company of other women, I would have had to think very carefully about how to answer.

Prince Mishari returned from the toilets and sat with his brothers. A round of Jack Daniels whiskey was ordered for them as usual. And as usual it crossed my mind that they are Muslim and alcohol is forbidden. I laughed inwardly as I thought, I’m not Muslim so am allowed alcohol—the joke being that I’m teetotal and they are not! This had always caused me some amusement from the moment I began working for them, and watched them drink to excess.

“Mark,” Prince Mishari called.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I replied, as he took off his watch.

“Take a look at this watch. Crown Prince Abdullah gave it to me. It’s made from moon rock. How much do you think it’s worth,” he asked.

Luckily, I had seen watches like this for sale in the UK. “Your Highness, I reckon it’s worth about £5,” I answered. All the princes laughed aloud; whether they were laughing at me or not, I didn’t know. Over the next few hours, the princes drank much alcohol. We left at 4am and made our way back to Casa Tam.

The prince was in a bad mood and I wondered if Jack Daniels made him aggressive. Anyway, as he got out of the car and walked towards the villa he started ranting at me. He was upset over the way I had disposed of the woman he was with. That was enough, I thought, and as he disappeared into the villa, I set about packing my suitcase.

I called Iberia airlines at Malaga airport and booked the first flight out to London. I got the prince’s belongings together, the .38 snub nose revolver I carried, the prince’s passport and what was left of his money, and placed them all into a large envelope. Then I walked round the front of the villa and found Elena, who was ironing the children’s clothes for the day ahead.

“Elena, please give this envelope to the prince as soon as he wakes,” I said.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s his passport and belongings. If he asks where I am, tell him I’m in England.”

“You must be joking,” she said.

“Elena, I’ve never been so serious in my life. The prince was aggressive to me. I won’t put up with it, so I’m off. Take care of yourself and I hope everything turns out all right for you in the end,” I said and then, I left her.

Back at my room, I called a taxi and told the static guy to call me when it arrived. By six o’clock in the morning, I was on the Iberia airbus. A couple of hours after that, I was standing at my front door. As I entered the house, plenty of hugs and kisses from Sue and my boys greeted me.

“What’s happened? Why didn’t you say you were coming home? Why didn’t you call? We would have met you at the airport,” Sue said.

“Let’s sit down and I’ll tell you what’s happened. Prince Mishari was aggressive and I thought enough is enough. So I left and here I am,” I said.

“What happens now?” Sue asked me.

“I’ve no idea, but I’ve a return ticket booked as it was cheaper than a one way ticket. I booked the return for next Friday but I don’t see that I will be using it. In a couple of days, I will call Bill at the office to let him know I’m back and after some work. For now though, I’m going to have a sleep as I’ve been up all night.”

“We’ll come and sit with you,” Sue said.

“Don’t get upset if I fall asleep, will you?”

“No, I won’t.”

Sue held and massaged my hand as I watched the boys playing on the bedroom floor. Shortly afterwards, I dozed off.

About midday, Sue shook my shoulder and woke me.

“Mark, you’re wanted on the phone. I think it’s Prince Mishari.”

“Didn’t you ask who it is?” I queried.

“No, I was surprised they even bothered calling, so I was caught off guard.”

“All right, tell him I will be there in a second.” I got out of bed and went to the phone.

“Hello,” I said.

“Mark, what are you doing there?” Prince Mishari asked.

“Your Royal Highness, when we arrived back to the villa last night you were rude and curt towards me. I will not let anyone speak to me like that, so I left.”

“I want you back. If I were rude, then I apologise. I don’t remember saying anything when we returned last night. So spend some time with your family, take your time and I will see you tomorrow,” he said and then hung up the phone.

I couldn’t go back then even if I wanted to, as I did not have the money for a new ticket. I called back. Mohammed, the prince’s uncle, answered the phone.

“Mohammed, can I speak with Prince Mishari please,” I said.

“Mark, he has gone down to the swimming pool.”

“All right, tell him I will be back on Friday.”

“No Mark, you must come back tomorrow. Prince Mishari says you will be back tomorrow.”

“Mohammed, tell Prince Mishari I will be back on Friday and if that’s not good enough then I won’t be back at all,” I said.

“He won’t like it.”

“If I don’t hear from him, then I will be back on Friday. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mark, I will tell him,” Mohammed replied.

During the next week, I took the time to chill out. I spent as much time with Sue and the boys as I could. We had fun and laughed a lot but knew that time was running out fast. I was surprised the prince had bothered calling me. I believed I’d placed my head on the block one time too many and that he would cut it off. Loss of face is everything to them, and I believed by asking me back he would have felt he had lost face to the people at Casa Tam. For that reason alone I thought he cared about me.

Friday arrived and I left Sue and the boys at Heathrow airport. I questioned whether I had made the right decision. I felt bad leaving my family and apprehensive of what I would find back in Marbella. The taxi stopped outside the gates of Casa Tam and I got out. I paid the driver and got my suitcase. The static guards opened the gates and greeted me warmly. I wondered if they had any idea about our disagreement. I walked over to my quarters and placed my bag on the bed. I did not bother opening it, as I wasn’t sure how long I might be staying. I took a Coke from the fridge and sat on the couch. I never told anyone I had arrived. I knew the guards would have told the prince of my arrival. Sure enough, within ten to fifteen minutes, one of the guards knocked on my door.

“Mark, the prince wants you,” he said.

“Fine, thanks,” I replied and walked over to see the prince. He stood by the driver’s door of the Chevrolet Camaro. As I neared him, he smiled at me and I smiled back. Reaching out his hand to shake mine, he greeted me.

“You English bastard,” he said. I didn’t take offence at his joke and knew then that all was good—for the moment, anyway.

I looked inside the Camaro and saw the princess sitting in the front passenger seat. I climbed into the back seat. As I got in the prince handed me a bag. Looking inside, I found his passport, his revolver and 20,000 pesetas. I found the back seats cramped and hoped we were only going for a short drive.

At the bottom of the hill, the prince turned right and drove along the N-340 main road. Near the Mosque, he turned right and in minutes, we arrived at the front door of La Meridiana, the Moorish styled restaurant. As I followed the principals into the restaurant, a car jockey parked the Camaro.

The maitre d’ showed the prince and princess to their table and I made my way to the bar. After ordering my Coke, I got in to a discreet position where I could keep an eye on them. After they had finished, the prince called me over.

“Mark, please pay the bill for us.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, but I thought the bill was going to come to more than the 20,000 pesetas which I had with me. At the till, I was presented with a bill for 35,000 pesetas. I felt my heart thud as I tried to free myself, and them, out of an embarrassing situation. I asked for the manager and took off my Cartier watch.

“Sir, I’m afraid I’ve left my cash bag back at the villa. His Highness will be so angry. Would you accept my Cartier watch as security for the bill until I return in the morning to settle up?”

Graciously, he declined my watch, “I realise that these things sometimes happen. Do not concern yourself. I will see you in the morning.”

“Thank you so much for your understanding,” I replied, and went back with my tail between my legs to signal the principals that the bill had been settled. As they regally walked down the steps to their waiting Camaro, I followed them with head bowed in embarrassment. Why had I come back? I questioned. How much longer would I have to put up with them tightening the purse strings? I no longer felt like a bodyguard when I worked for them. I had become a glorified babysitter and Mr Fix-It for them. I had made a break from them but then, when they called, I’d let myself down: I went running back to them. I could have kicked myself, and I should have kicked myself. It was with these thoughts in mind that I climbed in to the back of their car and sat quietly as the prince drove us to Puerto Banus.