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HARRY AND EMMA

1964–1965

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“HRH,” MUMBLED HARRY as he came out of a drowsy half-sleep He sat up with a start and switched on his bedside light, then slipped out of bed and walked quickly across to the vase of lilies He read the e from the Queen Mother for a second time Thank you for a memorable day in Bristol I do hope ned, HRH Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother

“Such a sirabbed his dressing gown and switched on the cabin lights

“Is it tiet up already?” inquired a sleepy voice

“Yes it is,” said Harry “We’ve got a problem”

Eone three,” she protested, looking across at her husband, as still staring intently at the lilies “So what’s the problem?”

“HRH isn’t the Queen Mother’s title”

“Everyone knows that,” said Emma, still half asleep

“Everyone except the person who sent these flowers Why didn’t they know that the correct way to address the Queen Mother is as Her Majesty, not Her Royal Highness That’s how you address a princess”

Eot out of bed, padded across to join her husband, and studied the card for herself

“Ask the captain to join us immediately,” said Harry “We need to find out what’s in that vase,” he added, before falling to his knees

“It’s probably only water,” said E out a hand

Harry grabbed her wrist “Lookfor so as delicate as a dozen lilies Call the captain,” he repeated, with ency this time