The night before I went to Buckingham Palace to receive my OBE, I had a dream. Her Majesty, poised to pin the medal on my jacket, asked me about the taxation treatment of furnished holiday lettings.
The next day at the Palace – fully awake – I decided to concentrate on remaining calm. It was just another day after all. Those who were to be honoured were separated from their guests and briefed on the procedure. We would leave the Picture Gallery and would be guided stage by stage into the Ballroom. At each stage we would be told what to do next. The last instruction, on entering the Ballroom, was to walk to a point in front of the Queen, turn to face her and then bow from the neck (‘a single sharp nod’, we were advised). When the conversation was over, HM would shake hands and while doing so push gently and firmly away. We should then take two steps back, bow, turn to the right and leave the Ballroom.
As I turned to face HM, the fact that I really was about to speak to the monarch hit me. She was, of course, utterly charming and made me feel – as over the years she made countless other people feel – that she was genuinely interested in what I did and that we were the only two people in the room. For her, this really was just another day. She put me at ease so effectively that when the conversation was over, I completely forgot my instructions, omitted the two steps back and the second bow and simply turned right and walked away. My wife, sitting in the audience, was aghast. Some weeks later we viewed the DVD of the occasion with my elderly parents. They watched it in total silence and when it had finished, my mother turned to me and made a single observation: ‘you forgot to bow, Paul’. It was the first time she had told me off in four decades.
Last Friday morning, I joined the large subdued crowd in front of the Palace. Someone asked if I was OK. Fearing that I would be unable to speak without my voice breaking, I just nodded. A single, sharp nod. Such a simple gesture. And as I made it, I found myself smiling at the memory it brought back.
I will always cherish that brief conversation with Her Majesty in November 2009. She was one of the most extraordinary figures of the 20th and 21st centuries, the keystone of our national life. To have met her was an enormous privilege.
And while I am a great believer in the importance of convention, I think I am allowed to say that we did not discuss the taxation of furnished holiday lettings.
The night before I went to Buckingham Palace to receive my OBE, I had a dream. Her Majesty, poised to pin the medal on my jacket, asked me about the taxation treatment of furnished holiday lettings.
The next day at the Palace – fully awake – I decided to concentrate on remaining calm. It was just another day after all. Those who were to be honoured were separated from their guests and briefed on the procedure. We would leave the Picture Gallery and would be guided stage by stage into the Ballroom. At each stage we would be told what to do next. The last instruction, on entering the Ballroom, was to walk to a point in front of the Queen, turn to face her and then bow from the neck (‘a single sharp nod’, we were advised). When the conversation was over, HM would shake hands and while doing so push gently and firmly away. We should then take two steps back, bow, turn to the right and leave the Ballroom.
As I turned to face HM, the fact that I really was about to speak to the monarch hit me. She was, of course, utterly charming and made me feel – as over the years she made countless other people feel – that she was genuinely interested in what I did and that we were the only two people in the room. For her, this really was just another day. She put me at ease so effectively that when the conversation was over, I completely forgot my instructions, omitted the two steps back and the second bow and simply turned right and walked away. My wife, sitting in the audience, was aghast. Some weeks later we viewed the DVD of the occasion with my elderly parents. They watched it in total silence and when it had finished, my mother turned to me and made a single observation: ‘you forgot to bow, Paul’. It was the first time she had told me off in four decades.
Last Friday morning, I joined the large subdued crowd in front of the Palace. Someone asked if I was OK. Fearing that I would be unable to speak without my voice breaking, I just nodded. A single, sharp nod. Such a simple gesture. And as I made it, I found myself smiling at the memory it brought back.
I will always cherish that brief conversation with Her Majesty in November 2009. She was one of the most extraordinary figures of the 20th and 21st centuries, the keystone of our national life. To have met her was an enormous privilege.
And while I am a great believer in the importance of convention, I think I am allowed to say that we did not discuss the taxation of furnished holiday lettings.
