Mrs Queen Takes the Train: A Novel
William Kuhn
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 0062208292
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
An absolute delight of a debut novel by William Kuhn—author of Reading Jackie: Her Autobiography in Books—Mrs Queen Takes the Train wittily imagines the kerfuffle that transpires when a bored Queen Elizabeth strolls out of the palace in search of a little fun, leaving behind a desperate team of courtiers who must find the missing Windsor before a national scandal erupts. Reminiscent of Alan Bennett’s The Uncommon Reader, this lively, wonderfully inventive romp takes readers into the mind of the grand matriarch of Britain’s Royal Family, bringing us an endearing runaway Queen Elizabeth on the town—and leading us behind the Buckingham Palace walls and into the upstairs/downstairs spaces of England’s monarchy.
undercover in the royal kitchens would not be a bad thing. He might see what they were doing. If there was anything interesting, he’d photograph it. The day arrived and Rajiv turned up at the side entrance of Buckingham Palace, wearing some checked trousers and a chef’s jacket he’d found in the window of a kitchen supply shop in Soho. He was met by an under chef, also smuggled in by the rogue Royal Protection officer, with a muttered message that he should try to make himself look busy as
about not missing the moment when the table would turn, and they must shift to the person on the left. It was a complex, choreographed performance. They were onstage. As far as they were concerned, William merely set the scenery and kept the lights on. William had noticed Luke when he arrived, a young man in a worn but form-fitting wool suit, remarkable for his lack of confidence. He was polished enough with The Queen and her guests at luncheon, but there was something rather silent, even
vibrating on her phone and then pressed a button to send the call to her answerphone. Rajiv came back to the table. “I’m afraid I’ve got to go,” she said. “Now? We only just got here.” “Something unusual’s come up.” She knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t stop herself. Rajiv could see from her face that she was rattled. “Want some help?” “No, thank you.” “Why not?” “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” “Okay,” said Rajiv evenly, trying to hit
boring. Memorizing names and dates. Who cares when Agincourt was?” This was the first the man with the piercings had said to the table. “1415, wasn’t it?” said the blind man to The Queen, attempting to be courtly to this stranger who might allow him to display his knowledge. “Why, yes, I think it was,” said The Queen, who wasn’t entirely sure of the date herself. She liked Victorian history and Victorian medievalism, yes, loved all the imitation battlements at Balmoral. The real Middle
what she had done wrong. [Anwar Hussein/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images] The Queen was unaware that she had drifted off into this reverie. The blind man, kindly thinking this elderly woman was embarrassed that she didn’t know what he was speaking of and needed a little instruction, put in helpfully, “The allegory of the cave, from Plato’s Republic, of course.” “Of course,” said The Queen vaguely. What did Plato have to do with anything? But she also saw that if she didn’t