Sorry. That's the first thing I thought when I saw the golden carriage. I didn't see Camilla as the Queen nor Charles as the King, but having queued to pay respect to the Crown, I was interested in witnessing the coronation and the ceremony.
What took me by surprise was the glorious and humbling beauty of the music, the spirituality of the service, and the majesty of the robes. There was something other worldy about it which tomorrow's Sunday newspapers, though they may deign and strain with their carefully crafted supplements and twenty pages of royal news and fashion and expert insight as to why and who spoke to Harry and who did Andrew sit next to, gossip, will never tap into. Words have not been invented to capture the energy and not even the finest poet or artist will be able to fully encapsulate the magic of those moments. The publishers and editors are the least likely to understand or communicate. It is vibration. Good vibration. Pure, old energy which transcends definition. That is why the presence of politicians was completely out of place. Their energy is out of place in this ceremony and space. I am amazed Truss and Johnson didn't burst into flames and turn to dust as they walked through the archway, vampiric as they are. Truss with her increasingly weird crooked smile, dominatrix necklace and that creepy sleepy husband who must know and acknowledge the affairs at some point. And Johnson trying to emulate Churchill now not only in his oration but in his shape. But they didn't burst into flames because we welcomed them in, didn't we? We voted them in. Not me personally, but I suppose as a nation. Although we didn't vote in Truss.
What else stands out? The startling beauty of those grey horses leading the golden coach. The strained and terrified face of Charles looking every one of his years as the crown, that beacon, was placed on to his head. Until his son kissed him. I felt for him then. I felt for him. The man, the father, the connection. The weight of the responsibility and the crown. And I want him to succeed. I want him succeed as a voice and leader and King and to do good. I want him to succeed at being a strong King and voice and kick those politician and media vampires into touch. And then I saw Camilla in the background and thought of Diana.
What else stood out? The mind blowing history of the ceremony, which is what struck me so profoundly when I first witnessed the crown on top of the coffin, and the ceremony of the guards as they changed position with such precision around it. The tigger like behaviour of the conductor squeezing the best out of each instrument. The voices, those voices, tear jerkingly moving. The military precision, the incredible three cheers.
I pay respect to the crown, to the procession, to the history, to the majesty.
As for Camilla, I don't like her. I listened to one of her ladies in waiting interviewed on Radio Four earlier that morning by chance. She sounded like one of those big bosomed big boned sargeant major types, Low low voice, she sounded like Camilla. Wiltshire, not a bone of feminine in her. I laughed when I saw them walking behind Camilla, the three of them looking like white, craggy chinless versions of The Three Degrees. Which is probably why Charles liked her. I remember he liked the Three Degrees didn't he.
I loved the way the Bible was described by the Archbishop of Westminster as a 'lively oracle of God'. I loved the fact Charles was taken down to the shirt and was as he is - a man. He needs Camilla to lean on, because Camilla has kept him needy so he will need her. Camilla has made him the man he is, petulant, self pitying. She put herself in that place so he would depend on her. As one of my editors told me "I met her. She was in it to win it. She could have walked away from Charles but chose not to. He was weak. She is not. She is also not, as her friends and sycophants politely comment 'lovely'". Strangely, I believe Diana would have made a stronger man of Charles. A better man of Charles. A better King of Charles. He saw her as competition, when she had the potential to be the most incredible asset. He didn't want a wife, he wanted a nanny and a mother which he never had in the Queen. He never viewed Diana as anything other than a liability, something imposed on him. And like a spoilt little boy he threw her away. For he suspected his wife would always outshine him. None more so than on the day of the Coronation. 'Tis a pity he didn't realise, she would have shone the light onto him, just by being at his side. God Saved the King. Pity God's grace didn't manage to save Diana as well.
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