It’s been a sheltered, altogether uneventful life, I suppose. I’ve never been privileged enough to savour the gastronomic delights of a cucumber, a mayonnaised finger, at a Holyrood garden party. So tell me, Charles, how was it for you?
Charlie Miller was there on Tuesday to collect his gong from Her Majesty, an OBE recognising his services to hairdressing and to a cancer charity. Toiled all his working life from humble beginnings. Destined never to have to scrimp for a sarnie.
Can’t be denied that he has worked for it. For his formidable family and for himself. So I put it to you again. How was it for you mingling with those toffs and, of course, with Her Majesty? Was she chatty? She had no problems with me in the past when we met here in the office.
“John, she was a delight. So warm and friendly. My first time in the palace and the atmosphere exceeded my expectations.
“We were painstakingly looked after, from the moment we stepped over the door. No, they didn’t do the cucumber sandwich. They don’t feed you. Drinks, yes, but nothing alcoholic. I don’t drink anyway, as you know.”
All right, then, Charlie. You’ll feel perfectly at home when you go back for the knighthood.
Afterwords . .
. . . Like me, you’re a know-all. Here’s something you didn’t know, though. Gannets will devour 25,000 loaves at the Olympic Games. How about the fishes? Don’t ask me, ask your local fishmonger. If you can find one.