Wednesday 13th March 2024
Before a recent response we’ve never have been wracked that a cough could wipe out an event. But since the authorities took the path of State Terror, those of us with bad nerves will crouch all our days in fear.
Only Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother gave a precedent for an 100th birthday on any scale. Her condition frankly did not equal the Gay Mother’s, who was nevertheless most unkeen to plan. But two teas were diarised, against the tide as it were.
For six months, every time the functions had to be discussed, I, Adrian Edge, fell over a precipice. Not just the usual styling agonies, the lists, the counting… but would the Gay Mother get a cough. Death would be simpler. That at least would be definite situation. But what about if she were just unwell, or refused at the last minute to attend? People were flying in from Cosa Rica. And Orlando, Florida.
All that styling wiped out. As you know, I can’t bear plans to be disrupted. But now we live forever in trauma’s vale.
So nerves were dreadful. But I had to go on. We also had house parties. Once launched in that sea, though, there was no going back. I was like the poor little Gypsy Moth rounding the Horn.
Also speechifying had to be faced.
The first function was at our family ancestral home – so flowers and styling. Caterers were engaged but I drew the line at caterers’ porcelain. So teapots and teacups to be packed. But the great silver teapots are too precious to be used. Granny deployed them every day. Anything other than a silver teapot, even in the study, was unthinkable.
We are at least a family that can produce 60 tea cups. And banquets of flowers from our gardens. But bouquets started pouring in anyway, from cousins, the accountants, neighbours, friends and the conservation department of the water board.
The Royal card arrived a day in advance. You could tell that it was from Buckingham Palace because the postmark said Buckingham Palace.
Anthony Mottram announced that cups and saucers are a waste of time. He arrived by train with Robert Nevil and the Maharajah, whose scarf was lost on board. He had the Great Western Railway turned upside down. But it was never found.
The great worry was the Tarte Tatin. I got it ready the day before for the pre-birthday dinner for the house party. The Maharajah is not only vegetarian but very particular and vocal if the food isn’t right. It was a potato and tomato tarte tatin but still with the caramelised element. Except it didn’t caramelise, it turned to lumps of toffee. So all through the night I was tormented: what would happen when it was cooked? If only I’d paid more attention in science lessons at school… would the entire tart go up in flames, or develop hard burnt lumps?
Great miracle or miracles – it was all right… when the tart was turned out for service it was normal – the toffee had melted away.
So that was a good start. The actual day dawned. The Gay Mother gained a 100 years. Such an event. From 9am, while we were still at breakfast, people came to pay court. The attendance! Soon the drawing room was a floral parlour; only a funeral would provoke more bouquets.
The Royal Card – how we curtsied. They’d actually written their names in their own hands. The gold tassle is the masterstroke. How well everything is done at Buckingham Palace.
After luncheon (the Maharajah liked the chutney), we motored over to the ancestral. The family and catering staff poured out of the front door. Nobody has ever seen anyone of a 100. As Cousin Smidge said to the Gay Mother, ‘I’ve never met anyone of 100 before.’ To which the Gay Mother replied, ‘Neither have I.’
Cousin Monica made a speech. She said the Gay Mother will live another ten years. There seemed to be little doubt about it. My own speech was supposed to have as its centrepiece that persons of fame often peak after only ten or twelve years. Then they’ve had their time and become dull…. So after a hundred years of the same person, you’d think everybody would have had more than enough… but no! The Gay Mother is in her prime, how she sparkles and campaigns for Palestine ..
If you count modern history as starting with 1066, then the Gay Mother has been alive for one tenth of it. Really time is short.
As the sun set on the ancestral home, the drawing room did glow with gilt. Anthony Mottram, Frankie Doreen and Giles Urquart played their trio by Haydn for a second time. The assumption was that Haydn had visited the house – or at least known of it. The Gay Mother was enchanted with the music. She said, music would have been played in that room in the very early 19th century and hasn’t been much since – really only piano and singing.
So if you can go back 100 years for real, it’s nothing to reach back another hundred years to Haydn’s day.
There was the cutting of the cake, the singing of happy birthday, the departure of the guests or some of them .. only the Gay Mother would not depart. She was there for her own 100th birthday. So few are. It took almost two hours to reach the front door because of the conversations. It was almost 8pm when departure was finally achieived.
It was a great day of days for sure.
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