Nick Curtis: Revealing the magic of a royal family Christmas

 
Britain's Prince William, his wife Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge and their son Prince George poses with Queen Elizabeth and family members after the christening service at St James's Palace in London October 23, 2013 released to Reuters on October 24, 2013. REUTERS/Jason Bell/Handout via Reuters
24 December 2013
WEST END FINAL

Get our award-winning daily news email featuring exclusive stories, opinion and expert analysis

I would like to be emailed about offers, event and updates from Evening Standard. Read our privacy notice.

The scene: Sandringham. Snow is gently falling. The Morecambe and Wise 1977 Christmas Special is playing on a toploader VHS recorder and in front of a roaring fire, four corgis are playfully tearing apart an old Brooks and Coulson dressing gown belonging to Prince Charles. The royal family are opening their presents.

Queen: Oh, Charles, a book. (Peers through glasses.) Preparing for Retirement. How thoughtful. And more Duchy Original celery crackers. I’m sure the local food bank will appreciate these.

Charles: Ah. Izal medicated toilet paper. Again. Thank you, father.

Philip: Good job I bought in bulk in 1945. Make a proper man out of you.

Charles: Where’s Anne, by the way?

Queen: She said she had to change the wheel on her Land Rover before mucking out the stables.

Charles: Your Majesty... Mummy... do you think we could skip the Boxing Day shoot this year? I’ve prepared a rather interesting lecture thingy on the plans for the new Chelsea Barracks development which I could give instead...

Philip: If you do I’m ruddy well checking myself into hospital again this ruddy minute.

Charles: (chagrined) That actress woman Emma Thompson said my lectures were “better then sex”. At least, I think that’s what she said.

Harry: (unwrapping present) Whoa, sick, fam! A platinum 64-gig iPhone 5s!! Thanks blud! (He performs an awkward fist-bump with William — who is wearing a Christmas jumper and carrying Prince George in a sling — and takes a selfie.) Just uploading this to Tinder. (William looks disapproving.) Chillax, blud. Cressy’ll never find out. I’m on it as gingersloanehunter89.

Philip: At least you kept your bloody clothes on this time.

Harry: Now, better change the security settings...

William: (Turns to Kate, who is examining her roots in a diamond-studded Van Cleef and Wallach compact.) Oh, babykins, do thank your sister for the copy of her new book. Pippa’s Tips to Getting Engaged and That. Maybe we can regift it to Uncle Andrew or Aunt Sarah. Anyway, Pips did a corking job planning this party. (Kate smiles lovingly as fairy lights flicker out and tinsel falls from the ceiling. Camilla enters from the garden, bringing a gust of cold air.)

Camilla: Sorry. Was absolutely gasping. Think you ought to know that two rozzers have got Andrew in an armlock face-down in a snowdrift until he produces some ID.

Philip: Ruddy plebs! (Grabs horsewhip and heads for door.)

Queen: Philip, no! You promised you’d help finish my speech. How can I praise our brave armed forces when there’s only about 10 of them, a few of those drone thingies and a laptop left? How can I talk about unity when my government’s ministers won’t debate food poverty? And what am I going to say about Mandelson?

Charles: It’s Mandela, mummy…

Queen: I know, I’ll explain how I’m costing the taxpayer less by putting the family finances into Bitcoins, announce that Zara is going on Strictly Come Dancing next year, open the roof of Buck House as a permanent concert venue and cinema club, and ask everyone to think of those less fortunate than themselves.

Harry: What, Princess Pushy?

(All laugh and toast each other with Vicomte de Soultrait champagne as the Pippa-decorated Christmas tree topples slowly over onto a footman.)

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in