It had to happen one day. Charlie had coerced me, once again, into taking a run along the Downs. Then on down and along the beach for the walking part, before attempting at least some sort of run up the other side. I was half way up, when, without intending to, I found myself just giving up. I had a chance to recover a bit before she realised and came back down to investigate.
‘I’m exhausted, I’m for the knacker’s.’
‘No!’
‘I’ve got to face it; I can’t get any fitter than I am now. This is it. Self-care and all that. You go on. Leave me, save yourself.’
‘I can’t, if you’re not chasing my arse, how can I get to the top?’
As we strolled back to the house, Charlie’s work phone pinged; ‘A text from the laird, sir.’
‘Knock-it off.’
‘It reads; “We’re back for long weekend stop. Job done for now stop. God save the King stop.” What’s he talking about?’
‘The court of Lord Lyon has to talk to Garter King at Arms; he makes it happen. The stone of destiny, Scone Palace, as was. How to get it to England without it ever leaving the soil of Scotland, all that stuff.’
‘Did you have some kind of a stroke back there on the hill?’
‘Didn’t it strike you as a bit odd how quickly it was arranged for the King to hand over Cat’s castle after his father’s death?’
‘No.’
‘Now, I can’t pretend to understand, but one of Cat’s official duties now is to collect the stone of Scone at the Scottish border and transport it to the Abbey without it ever touching the ground, or whilst it’s still sitting on a bed of Scottish soil, or something - whatever.’
‘You’re mad, the whole lot of you.’
‘I thought we’d established that some years ago.’
We got home with just enough time to settle in the media room, before turning on live, to the event of the century. I must confess my heart sank when the carriage emerged through the gates of the Palace. Two aging figures squashed into the back of something that looked no bigger than a hansom cab, built for the previous more diminutive monarch no doubt. ‘It all looks terribly eighteenth century to me, characters out of a satirical cartoon.’ I opined.
‘Cinderella.’
‘My god, yes. “You shall go to the ball, Cinders”.’
‘Worse than that.’
‘How come?’
‘You’re too old! You think of the royals as an institution. Think celebrity. There is only one Prince Charming. And Cinders has already got her man. These are the ugly sisters! The ball has already been going for some time. They, are the late arrivals.’
‘Holy smoke! This could all go horribly wrong.’ And after a pause for thought I found myself saying; ‘Have you done any treats? I feel the urge for comfort food.’
‘Later, Kenneth is coming over for a late Coronation lunch, slash early tea on the patio.’
Cut to the Abbey.
‘Here comes Red Beard!’ She declared.
‘Dressed for a wedding. “Oh look, I’m the last to arrive.” He really should lose the beard; I suppose he thinks it makes him look more serious.’
‘Now you’re getting it.’
‘But this must all be awfully embarrassing for Canterbury though, lots of pre-reformation ritual, then the swearing of undying allegiance to the King as head of our peculiar form of Protestantism. He’s going to blatantly contradict himself later on, bringing in all the multi-faith stuff, that’s if the Lambeth Palace lackeys are to be believed, they sounded positively orgasmic about their new innovations earlier in the week.’
‘Father may be suffering an attack of apoplexy as we speak.’
‘Perhaps you should phone your mother.’
‘I’m staying well out of it.’
What with the quality of the cameras, and each one of the principals being mic-ed up, it was a very different experience to watching the film of the late Queen from seventy years ago. But in a way that just highlighted the changes between church and state. The grim determination of the archbishop was in itself a kind of intolerance, you will be tolerant of everyone and everything or else - if you know what I mean!
‘Blimey the Head Boy is reading a lesson, he’s a Hindu surely?’
‘They do these things rather well at Marlborough.’
‘What?’
‘Drawing boys into traditional ways of doing things. Finding inoffensive parts of the Bible is all part and parcel of it.’
‘How would you know?’
‘I made the cricket team one year, so you know, did the rounds of away matches. How long does this show go on?’
‘Concert tomorrow, street parties Monday...’
‘Less than the funeral then?’
‘Well, it can’t all go on for that long. The opening rounds of hosting Eurovision are next week.’
‘Oh, good lord. It’s the Summer of Camp.’
Not for the first time I watched Kenneth’s slow arrival from our first-floor bedroom window. He was still insisting on walking from his place, but had taken of late to sitting on the patio a while before starting work. A thought struck. I descended from on high.
‘How do you do it Kenneth?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Preserve one’s resilience with age I mean. I must confess, I just gave up this morning, towards the end of our run on the Downs. Charlie was not best pleased.’
‘By realising that however much you have to slow down, it’s better to keep moving than stop altogether. Besides the slower you move, the more you notice.’
‘Ah! The small things, the detail, the stuff one never noticed before.’
‘Rather makes you realise how unobservant or inconsiderate one may have been in the past! Perhaps that’s what the fishing does for Charlotte.’
‘I’d never thought of that. Aye, aye, talk of the devil.’
‘Alright old timers, shift yourselves. I need to lay out the table. I want to see at least fifteen minutes gardening activity out of you two before your Coronation Special.’
Whilst we were making ourselves look busy in the environs of the garden shed, Kenneth asked; ‘So, who exactly are all the people involved in your railway project?’
‘Well, there’s the Arlington Trust obviously, Gerald the owner of the railway hotel in town, Jack who owns the hotel at Morestead, the famous farmer’s retail co-op who operate all around the junction station on the Morestead line, the school trust who have the railway at the bottom of their cricket pitch, the Fell Mining Corporation who have all the extra land at the old naval port, and Brian, he’s our main man within the existing preserved railway.’
‘And who have you got on the inside, in government and the Department of Transport?’
‘Oh! Come, come, a gentleman doesn’t ask such questions.’
‘So, you do have people. You certainly wouldn’t get far if you didn’t.’
‘Who wants to know Ken?’
‘Merely idle curiosity.’
‘Your curiosity is never idle.’
‘Is this all your own work my dear?’ Asked Kenneth.
‘No, Chef at the club made it, he had a bulk order, he put one aside for me.’
‘Well don’t look at me!’ I asserted; ‘It was demanded by all the committee members, strict instructions to follow the official recipe too.’
‘That’s why Chef looked so miserable then.’
There was a pause as the three of us tucked-in.
‘Oh, no.’
‘Won’t do at all.’
‘Tasteless, and all, limp.’
‘Real men don’t eat quiche.’
‘Not much of the real man in our King it would seem.’
‘And he wanted his first overseas trip to be France!’
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