Chapter Ten

Something’s up! thought Titus. Or rather, something’s down! He began to bark. The Royal eyes opened smartly, to see what could only now be called a waterfall. Leaping from her chair, the Queen ran for the door with Titus at her heels.

Prince Philip’s bath was not the usual sort. It had belonged to his wife’s great-great-grandmother, Queen Victoria. She had been very short, so her bath was very short too, which suited the Duke of Edinburgh well, for even though he was tall, he liked to sit up in the tub. Which was just as well, for if, on that particular evening, he had been lying down in it as most people do, then the Queen would very probably have soon been referred to – as her great-great-grandmother had been – as the Widow of Windsor.

As it was, the Duke sat up in his bathwater, a large glass of whisky in the soap dish by his side, and reflected upon the events of the day. Madge and her wretched corgis, he thought. Lazy, fat, spoiled little brutes. All the same, there was one of them with a bit of character, that one that had caught the burgling footman. What was the dog’s name? Ah yes, Titus, that was it.

After a while the bathwater grew a little cool, and the Duke turned on the taps again. But then, lulled by the warm water and the whisky, he began to feel rather sleepy. His chin dropped upon his chest, and the sound of his snores mingled with the splashing of water from the two still-running bath taps.

Gradually the level in Queen Victoria’s bath rose, till it reached the overflow. Then, because the overflow couldn’t cope with the volume of water, it rose higher, to the rim of the bath, over the rim of the bath, and began to spill on to the floor. Through it all Prince Philip slept peacefully, till he was suddenly woken by a volley of barking coming from the room directly below. Not for nothing had the Prince served his time in the Royal Navy.

Open the seacock! he thought, and he yanked the plug out, and then with a loud shout of ‘Abandon ship!’ he leaped out of the bath.

Hastily wrapping himself in a large towel, he paddled across the sodden floor. As he reached the bathroom door, it was flung open, and there stood the figure of the Queen, at her heels a single corgi.

‘Sorry, Madge,’ the Duke said damply. ‘I dropped off to sleep in the tub. Some dog barking woke me up.’

‘This dog woke you up,’ replied the Queen. ‘This dog, my Titus. If it hadn’t been for his watchfulness, the ceiling would probably have come down on top of us. Frankly, Philip, I have to say that we are not amused.’

Then she looked again at the tall figure of her Consort, standing barefooted on the squelchy floor, clutching his damp bath towel around him, and dripping.

She began to hoot with laughter.