The Reluctant Royalist

The Daily Telegraph: Kiss me Kate

I think I am turning into my Nan; I mean today I was welling up as I watched the Royal Wedding. I really felt as if I was going to cry, I was so moved and this is from me, the person who back in November when the engagement was announced between Kate Middleton and Prince William, could only think: “Well at least I’ll get a day off to do the garden.”

In 1981 I couldn’t have been less interested. At the age of 15 I thought it all a great big bore and I was furious that my riding holiday had been curtailed so that we could all watch the Royal Wedding on the box as a family.

I couldn’t think why everyone so excited about Prince Charles – he isn’t exactly good looking - or why they thought Lady Di was so perfect. He seemed horrendously old I couldn’t for the life of me reason why she would want to marry him. My Mum and Nan however, sat enraptured while I huffed and puffed and flumped about longing for the whole thing to be over so that I could watch some decent telly or else go down the caravan at New Quay and have some fun at the seaside. Anything had to be better than all this gushing flouncy stuff I was being forced to endure. The afternoon seemed never ending.

For my Nan it was the start of a love affair that endured to her death; she adored Princess Di who could never do any wrong. She read everything about her, watched TV programmes and would expound in great details all the wrongs done to that poor beautiful woman; for Nan was a romantic and she decided her loyalty lay with Diana, a saint who could do no wrong. An angel. How she would have loved today.

Nan didn’t have time for the Royals as such, I don’t think she ever would forgive the Queen Mother for being beastly to the Duchess of Windsor, in fact so partisan was she that I seriously think if she had ever met the QM she would have snubbed her in the way only the Welsh no how.

Today would have been meat and drink; and I can see her in my mind’s eye sitting in her green velvet chair, avidly drinking in the sights and sounds from the TV; commenting scathingly on the fashions and how some people really should know better and why on earth did the young wear so many shockingly ugly hats.

Then she would see the bride, she would have been in paroxysms of delight, gurgling with joy and exclaiming how beautiful she was and how elegant and saying look that’s how it should be done you can tell she has style and state and look how graceful. Today she would have taken ownership and started another love affair… and today I found myself understanding exactly why.

For today I was spellbound and I kept thinking of my own wedding and my own vows and I thought of all the hope resting on those young shoulders and I had such admiration and trepidation for their future.

A Royalist me, reluctantly admitted….