Following all the nonsense about C&C not meeting the parents in private, I was happy to attend the beginning of the little private lunch that they had last week.
I saw the twinkle in Liz’s eye, and knew that we were in for some fun, so I joined in by introducing them to each other. “And what do you do?” Liz asked Camilla, in that silly voice that she adopts for meeting the common folk. Poor Philip has lost all sense of irony in his old age, and is often not privy to the subtle undertones. “You silly bugger, it’s that hideous Camelia person, are you bloody blind? And as to what she does or what good she is, we’d all bloody like to know that, I’m sure.” Charles allowed himself a nervous smile, he is still intimidated by Phil, but is unable to exact any revenge, apart from occasionally taking a sneaky pee in the gin decanter.
“Have you come far?” continued Liz. “I should bloody say so,” interjected Phil, “from ‘thicky of the year’ at school to queen-in-waiting is a bloody long way, in my book”. “Watch it, granddad” said Camilla, “you’re a fine one to talk, you could have been running a kebab shop in Dulwich with your brother, if Liz wasn’t so short-sighted.”
I left the happy party to the echoes of Charles’ sobbing.
A few days to go, and still getting bad publicity. I am trying to arrange for them to appear on Ant and Dec’s television programme the following day, in order to introduce a little dignity.