Lovely, lovely lady
`NOW I can look the East End in the face,' she had said, all those years ago, after one of her corgis, too, had narrowly missed suffering a not inconsiderable hurt from flying shrapnel, and those cheery, salt-of-the-earth types never forgot it, gor' bless 'em. For they realise, as few people do, quite how tough life has been for this lovely, lovely lady, 88 years young. Early on in life, she received a severe blow when her husband suffered the grave misfortune of acceding to the throne of Britain. Now carrying the burden of Queenship, she had to move her possessions lock, stock and barrel to the agoraphobic conditions of Buckingham Palace, and she is still unable to go anywhere without a full retinue of servants. But this noble lady, never more radiant, has triumphed over all the setbacks life has dealt her, and is always willing to pass on a word of encouragement to the ordinary, common, cheery folk who so idolise her. The wit of the lady is, of course, legendary. Every page of Robert Lacey's superb critical biography, The Queen of All Our Hearts, and its follow-up, God Bless You Ma'am, sparkles with a shining gem. And last week in Rotherhithe that comic tongue was once again on top form. 'Raining isn't it, Wallace?' she said to me as we motored along, adding, as quick as a flash, 'I hope we've brought the umbrella!'
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