A Regal Colour Coordination Crisis

Bed has always been - in my opinion - a fine, fine place.

Even as a sick child, sipping my mother’s lucosade, I was able to lie there and watch the trains passing behind the trees outside the bedroom window. At that time The Golden Arrow still hurtled southwards towards coast, continent and impossibly exotic destinations.

Later, waiting for sleep to come, I would imagine that my bed itself could travel; flying like the magic carpets of my dreams.

Today I am sharing it with two cats – mother and daughter – my laptop, where I write and a box of Physalis fruit; it is early morn; the sun is strong, the birds singing, the bed is going nowhere – nor me.

I have a few minutes before I have to rise, phone the British Embassy and try to cajole Her Majesty’s Administration to process my daughters passport with utmost speed so that we may hasten on our way to a Sussex churchyard to say goodbye to Beryl.

Passports.

Shouldn’t they be free?

Aren’t they a fundamental human right?

The Queen should issue them in return for obliging me to wave a flag whenever she passes.

I went to see her pass, twice – I use the past, as I have no intention of doing so again (not ‘till she stops charging me for my passport).

The first time was in Aberdeen where I lived and read that her route from Royal Yacht to Balmoral Castle took her past the end of my street. I had to get some vegetables from the greengrocer across the road so I lingered - I saw her car. Later I poached some salmon from her royal river – it seemed fair exchange for the public money that was spent painting the lamposts that she drove past.

As she has aged my royal rage has lessened – I see her more as a doddery dear than a suppressive force – so when I read she was visiting Toulouse I decided to surprise Minnie – my daughter.

Minnie was born in France and had some weird fairytale idea of “The Queen” so I thought it would blow her tiny mind to see her; so without saying why i took her to town for the day.

We wandered around, did some shopping, fed the ducks on the canal and ate crepes in our favourite restaurant – Le Sherpa – and then strolled along to the main square; she didn’t notice the bells of the church that were chiming “God Save the Queen”.

I had done the necessary homework; ma lady was visiting Airbus then tucking into lunch with the Mayor so I was pretty certain where she would arrive. We walked into the square and I selected a central point in front of the Capitol (where the Mayor’s nosh-up would be), there was even a convenient municipal flowerpot for Minnie to stand on so she could get a good view.

The location was perfect, I could see a group of carefully selected school children shepherded behind a security barrier, each one issued with a flag where clearly the Queen would wander spontaneously and shake a few hands. Then she would drift over to the stall displaying foie-gras and violets before marching off for her croissant with the Mayor, obviously the car would stop next to us and we would be close enough to grab her handbag.

We settled down to watch the crowd and the attendant paraphernalia.

Minnie asked what we were doing, I told her, she got as excited as a 7 year old can, we watched the marksmen taking position on the roof tops, we ate some ice cream which excited her even more and the late comers crammed in around us and our flowerpot.

The cavalcade arrived, gendarmes on motorbikes, support cars and then her limousine. It stopped RIGHT in front of us.

The mayor got out.
On our side.
He went round and opened the door on the OTHER side.

Somebody in a big purple hat got out and was surrounded by bodyguards.

The car was big, the bodyguards were bigger. The Queen is a titch - but her hat was HUGE.

They ushered her Purple Hat over to the selected (clean) children behind the security barrier.

They coerced the Purple Hat over to the foie-gras and violets (risking a regal colour coordination crisis) and then led the Purple Hat away into the safety of the military complex formerly known as the Mayor’s.

We watched purple fade to dark.

“Did you like her hat?”
“Let’s get some more ice-cream?”
“Good idea.”