Social climber is not the precise expression to describe me. Alpha-phile, perhaps? In any case I’m also a monarchist, so it was a high point of my life when I saw the Prince of Wales heading for the seat next to mine at a writers’ dinner during a literary festival. “So sorry”, he muttered. “This will be frightfully boring for you. I’ve put you next to me.”
I was on his left, Dame Judi Dench on his right. As we took our seats I saw Giles, my husband, further down the table, mouthing in genuine outrage. “Swap with me. I’ve got much more in common with him!”
Giles has long revered the Green Prince for his ecological vision. I have revered him for his unsung heroism in lifting more than one million no-hopers into productive lives via the Prince’s Trust. I echo Nicholas Coleridge, who observed, when agreeing to serve on the Prince’s Campaign for Wool “I am a fan of HRH. He has been shown to be right in almost all his views and campaigns: on heritage, on architecture, on literacy, on the Prince’s Trust, on the environment, on soil, on plastic bags, on rainforests, on red squirrels, on faith. And he is right about wool.”
But I have mostly revered him for what I see as his saintly qualities in his striving for personal spiritual growth.
As his future subject, I am immensely proud of our well-intentioned representative on the world stage.
I had met him before but this would be a rare opportunity for a decent conversation. During the first course, I remained calm as I talked to Gordon Turnbull, the world expert on James Boswell.
Then came the second course and I readied myself as Gordon Turnbull switched to the writer on his left. But HRH did not turn to me. Oh no – Dame Judi was still dominating him. Clearly she had been unable to turn to the person on her right, I surmised, because Giles had created a domino effect of non-turning in order to sabotage my moment in the Royal spotlight – but I could not see him in order to pull a face.
When a tray-bearer came behind me I whispered “Could you give a message to my husband Giles Wood further down the table? He’s got glasses. Just say the words “Nicky Haslam”. It’s code. He will know what you mean.”
“Nicky Haslam” means “turn” in our code. It originates from a lunch for 20 where Nicky got angry because his guests were not turning between courses, thus leaving some people conversationally unattended and staring into thin air. “Turn!” Nicky had barked, rising to his feet. .
But this time there was no improvement in the turning circle. I waited alone like one of Nicky Haslam’s overlooked.
It was a huge privilege to physically bask in his evolved ambiance.
By the time the Prince did turn – at the third course – I had begun to talk across the narrow table to two other writers. One a best selling thriller writer, the other a distinguished editor, both cynics. “It really is appalling”, HRH almost said as he now addressed the three of us. His theme was that 70% of the world’s population was under the age of thirty. They would all be replaced by robots and so few of them had a spiritual dimension to their lives which could make all the difference.
He described how impressed he had been when, as a young man, he had been taken to Mount Athos by a painter friend and he had witnessed monks living alone in caves, surviving on grubs and berries in order to rid themselves of their own egos. The two opposite looked puzzled, they could not get their heads around the concept of spiritual dimensions.
“So, Sir”, breathed the stunning female writer, flirtatiously. “How would you best go about riding oneself of one’s own ego?”
I longed to hold forth about my own spiritual condition, but it was obviously not the time or the place to trivialise this topic. So rarely does one meet a spiritual role model that it was frustrating. If only we had been talking alone and not in a conversational cluster, I might have been able to project my personality. Never mind, it was a huge privilege to physically bask in his evolved ambiance. Incidentally he didn’t mind at all when I breached etiquette by inelegantly barging in front of him when we left the table.
His latest achievement is that the Prince’s Trust has begun a new partnership with the NHS.
I asked a wise man who knows him well for his view of the Prince. He replied “I think men peak at different times in their lives. The sort of person who is President of Pop at Eton is rarely exuding the same energy at 27. And I think the Prince of Wales began to peak around ten years ago.”
Musing on this, I think he is right. His latest achievement is that the Prince’s Trust has begun a new partnership with the NHS to help 5000 young people get into the NHS through entry level positions with a further 5000 joining through apprenticeships. Roles will include digital and business administration. At this turbulent time in the junior jobs market this project will be invaluable. As his future subject, I am immensely proud of our well-intentioned representative on the world stage.
Back to trivialities. It turned out the waiter had delivered the coded message “Nicky Haslam” to the venerable, then 85-year-old, Scottish Nationalist, Neal Ascherson. Not Giles, Ascherson, of course, was bewildered.
Moreover the “wise man” tells me Royals talk to the person on their right for the first two courses.
Mary Killen is a writer and contributor to Channel 4’s Gogglebox. She is the Spectator’s social dilemmas expert in her column, Dear Mary.
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