The Queen's Corgi

‘That’s why diets never work!’ offered the portly Armstrong to general merriment. ‘I speak from experience!’

‘There is great truth in that,’ concurred Cameron. ‘It is also said that order is contagious. If we live and work in an orderly way, it becomes easier to take control of more and more elements of our life. The opposite is also true. Chaos, stress and having demands constantly made on us cloud our focus and make impulse control much less likely.’

‘The constant ringing of mobile phones,’ said Ross.

There were groans of recognition from around the table. Once again, Her Majesty looked over in my direction; yes, we both knew about the impact of a mobile phone ringing at the wrong moment.

‘It’s troubling how much time people spend on them,’ observed the Queen. ‘Especially the young ones.’

‘They are degrading people’s attention spans,’ agreed Armstrong, emphatically. ‘Heavy users are less able to recall things and are more easily distracted.’

There was a discussion about the stress created by mobile devices; how the boundary between work and leisure time had become blurred and how people’s peace of mind was directly affected.

‘Technology is supposed to be for our benefit, not the other way around,’ observed Cameron. ‘If there was ever a case of the tail wagging the dog, this has to be it.’

‘Better the dog had no tail,’ agreed Her Majesty, as her lunch guests joined her in turning to look at me. Leaping up, I hurried over to where she was sitting, my stump twitching with vigour.

The lunch guests had departed and the Queen was returning upstairs when she heard a muffled sob echo down the corridor. I followed on her heels as she headed in the direction of the noise. Around a corner, we discovered Detective Lewis standing forlornly outside Huchens’ office.

As soon as Her Majesty came into view, the policewoman snapped to a more upright posture, hurriedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked the Queen.

‘I’m to be interviewed about this morning’s security lapse, ma’am. I was told . . .’ her voice cracked, ‘it was the worst breach in years. I don’t know how I can begin to apologise.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ the Queen said briskly. ‘I’m still alive and well. Your bleeping phone distracted you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘An important message?’

‘No, ma’am. Not at all. Just an alert.’

‘Alert?’

‘For my next Scrabble move.’

Her Majesty frowned, ‘As in the game?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘On your phone?’

Detective Lewis removed the phone from her pocket. ‘I am playing someone in Rio de Janeiro.’

‘Gracious!’ The Queen was intrigued. ‘Do show me.’

Little did Detective Lewis appreciate that Her Majesty was keen on Scrabble. Indeed, she was not only an enthusiast, but a seasoned player. Opening the app on her device, Detective Lewis began showing the Queen the online version of the game that had proved such a distraction that morning. She pointed out the arrangement on the board so far and the tiles from which she had to create her next word. How moves were indicated to one’s remote partner by a signal, such as the one that had caused all the fuss earlier on.

She was still answering the Queen’s questions when Huchens’ door opened. ‘Your Majesty,’ he greeted her, his large and solid form filling the entrance.

‘Detective Lewis here has been explaining why her phone went off. Most interesting.’

Huchens glanced from the Queen to the plain-clothes policewoman with a poker face.

Her Majesty nodded briefly. ‘I won’t detain you,’ she said and headed towards a staircase. ‘Try equation,’ she instructed Detective Lewis.

‘Ma’am?’