I am completely and utterly devastated by the passing of our wonderful, inspirational Queen, as I’m sure are so many in our fair isles. It is the end of the brilliant Elizabethan era. I was so proud to have been part of her last Jubilee. After being driven along the circuitous pageant route around London, I finished up seated in the Royal Box, waving at Her Majesty in what would prove to be her last appearance on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, where she sparkled in emerald green.
This brought back memories of May 1945, when we were all celebrating the end of the second world war. My father drove his Riley Saloon as close to the gates of Buckingham Palace as was allowed, so that my mother, my sister Jackie and I could wave to the royal family while surrounded by cheering crowds. Princess Elizabeth was in her ATS uniform and seemed to be just as excited as everyone else.
The first time I became aware of the two young princesses was when my mother found an old book about King George VI’s accession, which featured cardboard cut-out figures of the entire royal family. They were impressive in their crowns and ermine robes. Studying and playing with these books was once an extremely popular pastime for British children. There were pages and pages of cut-out outfits to put on the little princesses, so you could change their costumes at will. Every manner of outfit, from dressing gown to riding habit to evening dress, was there and I diligently cut out and kept, in a cigar box, a wardrobe fit for a princess. It provided hours of fun in those pre-TV, pre-smartphone and pre-gaming days.
Then the most glamorous event in postwar austerity-riddled Britain was announced – the engagement of Princess Elizabeth to the dashing blond god Prince Philip.
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