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Presentation Before the Queen

 

Sometimes you hear stories you want to remember. The other day I did. It was a hot breathless evening. The lights had also failed. We were sitting on the verandah and I could hear frogs croaking around Mummy’s old well. But oblivious of the stifling stillness, she was reminiscing. At 86, her memory stretches back almost to the Russian Revolution.

We started with The Queen’s jubilee. It was in June but few in India noticed. In Oxford, whence she had just returned, Mummy had watched every moment on television.

“You know.” She suddenly said. “I was presented at Court. In facts twice. First to King George VI, then to the present Queen.”

I sat back and listened. Her soft voice contrasted with the heavy black night.

The initial occasion was in 1939 just before the war. It was the last of the old style presentations. My father was a captain and one of the first Indian officers to be sent to the senior staff college at Minley Manor. Mummy was 22.

General Paget, the Commandant, who had taken a shine to the Indian captain’s chatty wife, pulled strings to arrange an out-of-turn presentation. It was an unexpected honour. So in a hired car, with Daddy’s batman in front, they drove to Buckingham Palace.

“You can’t imagine how excited I was.” Mummy recalled. “It took me a full hour to tie my sari.”

They were ushered into an ante-room where attendants were straightening the ladies trains. Today the term suggests locomotion. But in the ‘30s, it was an essential part of every debutantes dress.’

Unfortunately, the attendant was not familiar with sari pallus. In his enthusiasm, he assumed it needed a tug to fall properly. And that’s what he did. Mummy’s carefully tied sari fell apart.

“I’m very sorry Madam.” He apologised.

“It’s no use being sorry.” She shot back. “Help me put it on again.”

The deed done, the grand doors were flung open and the assembled guests ushered into the throne room. One by one, they were taken to the King and Queen.

“In those days, he was known as the King Emperor.” Mummy explained. “But Indians did not courtsey. We were told to namaste.”

She walked straight up to them, well past the point where others stopped. Staring the Royal couple straight in the face she folded her hands together.

“What did they say?”

“Charming!” She replied. “I wanted to chat but Daddy whisked me away.”

As she tells the story, my parents found themselves seated beside an elderly ducal couple. Daddy’s sword got stuck in the Duchess’s lace dress.

“Psst.” He hissed. “Look!”

The sharp point of the sword had pinned the dress to the carpeted floor.

“I had to pretend to drop my hanky.” Mummy said. “When I bent to pick it up, I tugged at the sword. The old dear never found out. She continued to smile.”

They moved on as fast as they could. Mummy headed for the champagne which proved to be her undoing.

If I heard correctly, she had had two glasses when Daddy saw her reaching for a third. In seconds, he was beside her. His arrival, however, coincided with the Royal Couple processing through the room. As was the custom at the time, they were preceded by two pages who would not turn their backs.

“Oh look.” Mummy exclaimed. “They’re walking backwards!”

They were, but I suspect my father feared worse indiscretions from his young wife and decided to make a graceful exit. Their evening ended at Van Dyke’s studios and the picture taken there captures her happiness. Her eyes are lit up and she’s smiling.

The second presentation was 17 years later in 1956. India was independent and my parents were taken to the Palace by our High Commissioner, Vijayalakshmi Pandit, and her visiting brother, Jawaharlal Nehru. The only thing was Daddy was back in college. Not Minley Manor but the Imperial Defence College. A fact that sat incongruously with his white hair and evident age.

“How do you like London?” the Queen asked him.

He said he liked it very much when Mummy interrupted.

“It’s all very well for him.” She blurted out. “But when people ask what does your husband do and I reply, he’s at college they always say ‘well, my dear, I’m sure he’ll find a good job soon’!”

The Queen’s eyebrows shot up and stayed there. But Prince Philip roared with laughter.

“I know exactly what you mean.” He said without elaborating.

“And what about Mrs. Pandit?”

“Oh, she was furious.” Mummy replied.“ ‘You silly girl’ she said. But Panditji loved the story. ‘Good for you,’ he told me afterwards. Then, looking straight at Daddy, he added. ‘She deserves another glass of champagne’!”

“And?”

“I had several. What did you think?”