Storylines
aren’t always made up from imaginary situations. A lot of my books contain
cameos from my own life, embroidered into the pattern of the story –
factionalised. Here are two cameos that I would love to include in a book someday,
if only I could think of a storyline to go with them.
Meeting VIPs - from famous footballers to royalty - was a
part of my life that has left me with many a memory that is still great to
share with guests at the dinner table. Back in the UK my husband was the
director of Sir Peter Scott’s Wildfowl and Wetlands Park at Washington
[north-east England, rather than the USA]. Sir Peter was the son of the famous
Scott of the Antarctic. HRH Prince Charles is the President of the charity and
I had the pleasure of meeting him twice. On both occasions, he came to my
rescue.
One incident
was when Prince Charles came to open a new wing at the Washington centre. It
was a freezing January morning and a group of us who were chosen to be
introduced to the prince were lined up by the official photographer. I was to
be the first to be introduced [don’t ask why, but I was rather pleased about
that]. We stood there waiting for about an hour, frozen stiff, with the
photographer constantly rearranging the group – mostly my position. It was a
case of: “Mrs. Gadsby could you move back just a little please?” After the
third time of asking, I suddenly realised that I was balanced at the very top
of a flight of stairs, the heels of my shoes nearly hanging over. I felt very
unsteady – more so when Prince Charles arrived and signed the visitor’s book
right next to me, saying: “I can’t join up my letters this morning.” Then I was
introduced and had to curtsy as we shook hands. I teetered on that top step,
bending my knee and having visions of falling backwards with HRH on top of me.
But he tightened his grip and I was saved the embarrassment of appearing on the
front pages of Britain’s newspapers. He then made an apology to the group for
having a bad cold, which he claimed he had caught from his son. William was
then only a year old.
Another
saving experience took place when we attended the AGM at Slimbridge, the
headquarters of the Trust. Lady Philippa Scott asked us if we would like to be
introduced to Prince Charles, and of course we would. We were the last in line and Lady Scott
apologised profusely, saying that there wasn’t time for us to meet the prince
after all as lunch was about to be served.
We were left standing only a few yards behind Prince Charles, who was
conversing with Sir Somebody on one side of him and Lord somebody else on the
other. They ended their conversation and the two men departed in different
directions, leaving Prince Charles standing alone, everyone having disappeared
into the dining hall. HRH spun around and saw us standing there, strode up to
us, hand outstretched. Brian introduced
himself as the Director of the Washington branch of the Trust, then turned to
me – we weren’t married at the time – and simply said: “And this is June.” The
Prince shook my hand with a broad smile and said: “Hello, June.” He and Brian
exchanged a few words, then HRH looked pointedly at me and asked what I thought
was needed to improve the north-east of England. Well, that was unexpected, but
I managed to pull out, hopefully, the right answer: “We need more culture,” I
told him. “More art and music.” He just nodded and smiled and I hoped that he
agreed and might do something about it.
The dinner
bell sounded again and Brian reminded the prince that lunch was being served.
We walked hesitantly with him, completely unaware of the required etiquette.
And he knew it, for he placed a hand on my back, leaned down to me and
whispered: “You go first and I’ll follow.” All I could say was a simple “Thank
you” and led the way into the dining hall, with Brian bringing up the royal
rear. I was immediately pounced on by all the women there who were desperate to
know what we had been talking about. I
smiled and shook my head, leaving them to wonder.
Today, the
north-east of England [Newcastle and Gateshead in particular] has become a real
cultural region. It’s taken over thirty years, but I like to kid myself that my
few words to Prince Charles on that memorable occasion had helped in some small
way.
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