Thursday 8th September 2022

I had to take immediately to the airwaves, of course… Only last week, Royston was saying, as we toured Frogmore by Gracious Permission of Her Majesty, Will she ever come here again?

I said, Of course, she will.

We passed the place where she used to feed the dogs. One time, in a previous year, there were bowls there, I’m sure. None last week. Royston thought the garden suffering, even neglected, because her spirit had left already in advance. Her prolonged absence (she can’t have been there for months) had caused the gardeners to lose heart. She used to drive down every day to Frogmore. It’s a major garden. Her trees and Edinburgh’s. So much activity… there were 170 years of Frogmore or so, then 70 years of them. Their trees… but recent plantings of banks had not been watered. All the little plants were dead. Why had nobody watered?

I thought on Tuesday she didn’t look too bad. Joshua Baring thought otherwise: ‘The poor poor Queen,’ he texted. All the same, I don’t see how she could be standing and receiving Prime Ministers on Tuesday and dead on Thursday.

Cousin Barley phoned this afternoon. She needed to draft an Instagram post for the leading London department store where she is Head of Marketing. This was before the deadly announcement had been made. ‘What to do in the social media age?’ she asked. I said, ‘What people like about the monarchy is continuity and tradition.’  Her final text was: ‘…… is deeply saddened by the death of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 11 and grateful for her long life of service and dedication.’ I had wanted to add ‘Long live the King and Queen Consort’ but that part was dropped.

Only the Gay Mother has both feet planted firmly on the ground: ‘From her point of view,’ she pronounced, ‘it was the perfect ending.’

Another funny thing: on Wednesday after Frogmore last week we took the Dream of Gerontius at the Royal Hall. It’s all about someone dying.  Royston’s sister had been re-admitted to hospital. But now she’s out. Her Majesty did not get out. But lives on. As the King.

Never to Come Again: Her Beloved Dog-Feeding Station at Frogmore

Where is She? On this Bench she Would Have Sat to Feed the Dogs

Her Sanctuary of Frogmore, one third of Whose History was Hers