“No, that’s just an excuse for us to meet without suspicion. I think it might be helpful for you both to know that Her Majesty has a highly sensitive question to put to us.”
Simon and Andrew listened as Raymond revealed the substance of his discussion with the Prime Minister.
Charles waited in the entrance of the courtyard of the Speaker’s House to welcome the Queen.
It was only a few minutes before he spotted two police outriders entering the gates of New Palace Yard followed by the familiar maroon Rolls-Royce, which displayed no number-plate. A tiny white light on the center of the roof blinked in the evening dusk. As soon as the car had come to a halt a footman leaped down and opened the back door.
The Queen stepped out, to be greeted by the commoner history had judged to be the monarch’s man. She was dressed in a simple cocktail dress. The only jewelry she wore was a string of pearls and a small diamond brooch. Charles bowed before shaking hands and taking his guest up the carpeted staircase to his private apartments. Her three party leaders stood in line waiting to greet her. She shook hands first with the new leader of the Labour party and congratulated him on his election that afternoon before inquiring how the Prime Minister was faring. Then she shook hands with her leader of the Opposition and asked how his wife was coping at Pucklebridge General Hospital after the new National Health cutbacks. Simon was always amazed by how much the Queen could recall from her past conversations, few of which could ever last more than a few moments. She then moved on to Andrew whom she teased about his father’s recent speech in Edinburgh on the Social Democrats’ greatest weakness being their lack of leadership.
“He’s very old, ma’am,” insisted Andrew.
“Not as old as Gladstone when he formed his last administration,” she replied.
She removed the gin and tonic offered to her on a silver tray and looked around the magnificent room. “My husband and I are great admirers of the Gothic revival in architecture, though being infrequent visitors to Westminster we are, however, usually forced to view the better examples from the outside of railway stations or from the inside of cathedrals.”
The four men smiled and a few minutes later Charles suggested they adjourn to the State dining room where five places were set out round an oval table covered with silver which glittered in the candlelight. The four men waited until the Queen was seated at the head of the table.
Charles .had placed Raymond on the Queen’s right and Simon on her left while he and Andrew filled the other two places.
When the champagne was served Charles and his colleagues rose and toasted the Queen’s health. She reminded them that her birthday was not for another two weeks and remarked that she had twenty-four official birthday engagements during the month, which didn’t include the family’s private celebrations. “I would happily weaken but the Queen Mother attended more functions for her ninetieth birthday last year than I have planned for my sixty-fifth. I can’t imagine where she gets the energy.”
“Perhaps she would like to take my place in the election campaign,” said Raymond.
“Don’t suggest it,” the Queen replied. “She would leap at the opportunity without a second thought.”
The chef had prepared a simple dinner of smoked salmon followed by lamb in red wine and aspic. His only flamboyant gesture was a birthday cake in the shape of a crown resting on a portcullis of sponge. No candles were evident.
After the meal had been cleared away and the cognac served the servants left them alone. The four men remained in a light mood until the Queen without warning put to them a delicate question that surprised only Charles. She waited for an answer.
No one spoke.
“Perhaps I should ask you first,” said the Queen, turning to Raymond, “as you are standing in for the Prime Minister.”
Raymond didn’t hesitate. “I am in favor, ma’am,” he said quietly.
She next turned to Simon.
“I would also support such a decision, Your Majesty,” he replied.
“Thank you,” said the Queen, and turned to Andrew.
“At heart I am a traditionalist, Your Majesty, but I confess to having given the subject a great deal of thought over the last few years and I have come round to supporting what I think is described as the ‘modern approach.’”
“Thank you,” she repeated, her eyes finally resting on Charles Seymour.
“Against, ma’am,” he said without hesitation, “but then I have never been a modern man.”
“Mat is no bad thing in Mr. Speaker,” she said, and paused before adding: “Some years ago I asked a former Lord Chancellor to draw up the necessary papers. He assured me then that if none of my parliamentary leaders was against the principle the legislation could be carried through while both Houses were still in session.”
“That is correct, ma’am,” said Charles. “It would require two or three days at most if all the preparations have already been completed. It’s only a matter of proclamation to both Houses of Parliament: your decision requires no vote.”
“Excellent, Mr. Speaker. Then the matter is settled.”
BOOK SIX
1991 PRIME MINISTER
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE