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The day was not bright and clear. It was a dull gray November morning. He had advised her to keep the day somewhere in April or May, when the weather was lovely. But she denied saying she had already waited so long, and could not wait until the next year. So it was in November. He was feeling nervous from some days, but now, when he woke up, ‘nervousness’ was no longer sufficient to describe all the things he felt. Kings don’t feel sentimental, nor should he, but not even a King can help stop the worry, the nerves that a father feels on the day he is to give away his daughter.
With a groan he got up from his bed, lighted a cigarette and inhaled. He pulled the curtains aside to look outside. It was quite a sight. In a distance he could see hundreds of people outside the palace gates, inside the gates, just below his window; the soldiers and horses were being readied for the procession. He caught a glance of the glass coach; the bride’s coach. The word ‘bride’ felt so foreign. His little Lilibet, when did she grow up?
He could still remember the bright April day of her christening, when she cried so loud that she drowned the voice of the choir and how amused his father had been then, how his brother had laughed until Mama finally calmed her down. 21 years later, today, the same choir will sing for her wedding...
It was just 7 am, the wedding will not take place until 11:30, and he had time enough to get ready, ready in the physical sense of putting on clothes and combing hair, not mentally or emotionally. No, he did not have enough time to ready his heart to sign his daughter away, even years would not be sufficient to get that level of readiness.
He went outside his room and his eyes caught the various toys with whom Lilibet and Margaret played when they were just little girls, those were still there, when they no longer played with them. He recognised the toy horse, and it hit a series of memories. Their life before the crown, when he was a duke, life at royal lodge was carefree and happy, He pushed Lilibet around on that horse in their sweet little home. It was long since she had outgrown them, she rode on real horses now, just as she has now outgrown being a child.
He walked through the corridors, they were full with activity. Preparations for the wedding breakfast were already going on. The whole palace was lively and cheerful, except for the hollow feeling inside him. He knew Lilibet never took a decision until she was completely sure, and he had nothing against Philip – he was a decent fellow, but she was just a very young girl and in love, people often become so blind when in love that sure decisions turn out to be big mistakes. Philip might be a good man, but good men are not always good husbands. And Lilibet not only needs a good husband but a good consort. This was the problem; it was not just Lilibet who was going to wed today, but also a future queen who will walk down the aisle.
Several people passed him in his walk around the palace, they bowed and curtsied. Squeals of ‘your Majesty’ were spoken and they moved on, doing this thing or the other. He felt very out of place, in his own residence. He must be the only one who was doing nothing. Perhaps that was the trick which stopped one from being overwhelmed on ceremonies like these, to do something, help in preparation, do the decoration or something, or get ready himself.
It was half past seven, he returned to his room. His uniform of Admiral of the fleet was well ironed and hanged by the wardrobe. There was some commotion in the door adjoining his room, his wife’s room. He thought of taking a look before going to bathe.
He entered the room to find clothes and hats and jewels crowding the room. Two Ladies in waiting were helping her get ready. The peach gown made her glow beautifully.
He remembered his own wedding day so clearly .The bright April morning started cheerfully; his parents were delighted to have their first daughter in law and he, to have his wife.
He remembered when he saw his bride walking down the aisle towards him in her heavenly wedding dress. He couldn’t believe she was marrying him, that he finally got his love. The exchanging of vows with her is still intact in his memory as if it was yesterday.
He was happy throughout; because he was sure he made the right decision. It was the best decision he had made in all his life. He hoped when Lilibet will look back on this day in future, she will think the same.
“Does this necklace look best or that one?” she asked one of the ladies.
“Both go well with it, Ma’am.” The reply came.
She shook her head. “No, Flora, you are confusing me even more.”
“The first one will suit more, I think.” He called out from the doorway. She turned around.
“Bertie!” she straightened her gown, standing up, “How do I look?”
“beautiful, as always.” He replied. She grinned and asked the lady to put the necklace around her neck. She looked at him through the mirror.
“Had tea?” she asked, he nodded and came further in. Her eyes widened, “Bertie, what is it?”
“What is what?” he was confused.
She turned around at pointed at him up and down. “Why are you not ready yet?”
“Oh, yes, I thought there is still plenty of time-”
“No!” she interjected. “Don’t mistake the time to be plenty, Bertie. Everyone, except the bride and bridesmaids, must be ready before 8:15. Hartnell’s ladies will come by 8 for Lilibet and the bridesmaids; you should be ready before the bride herself!”
He sighed and returned to his room, time was slipping by, and he must get dressed for the big day which lay ahead.
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The next three hours passed in being a host. The king talked with as many guests as he could who were being hosted at the palace, before they all started their journey towards the abbey, and thus the wedding procession started, for which the whole London was waiting outside. People erupted into wild cheers as one after another, the guests, who happened to be royalty from all over the Europe drove in the royal cars.
His heart beat wildly as the time kept coming closer. He inhaled from his cigarette with shaky hands, the palace, all of a sudden appeared empty. All guests had driven out. Now it was the turn of the Bridesmaids and the mother of the bride.
He looked at the stairs, to see if Lilibet would come out to see them off, but she didn’t. He sighed and approached Margaret, who looked delighted. She grinned when she saw him.
“Papa!” He kissed her cheek. “Your uniform looks so good today.”
“N-n-nowhere as beautiful as your lovely dress.” He said. Margaret really shone in those robes. White as a cloud, the dress somehow showed the childhood that was still left in her. It showed that she was not the bride. He felt a pang in his stomach when he thought how Lilibet will look just opposite in her dress. Even though the colour, the theme of design will be same, but there will be a maturity in that dress, a feeling of being a woman, not a girl.
“Ready to go to the A-a-abbey, t-t-then?” he asked Margaret.
She nodded. “As soon as mummy comes.” And began looking in the direction of the crowds outside. “Have you seen Lilibet yet?” she asked after a moment.
“N-n-no. Not even a g-g-glimpse. Isn’t she ready y-y-yet?” he hoped to get some quiet moments with her before the ceremony began.
“She is ready, but there are some last minute things to do. Mummy is in her room, I heard there has been some trouble, again.”
He gaped. “T-t-t-trouble? A-a-again?”
Margaret nodded. “Yep. Firstly her Tiara broke just as the dressers were putting it on. Fortunately, the jeweller was nearby and fixed it. Then she wanted to wear the pearl necklace that you gifted her, it turned out to be in St. James Palace, her secretary brought it from there. And now a footman came to tell Mummy that her bouquet is nowhere to be found.”
He wasn’t sure what was more shocking, the troubles that took place or the fact that no one told him. “W-w-why d-d-d-doesn’t a-a-anyone t-t-t-tell m-m-me a-a-anything?” He was in a total panic mode now and therefore was stammering more than he did usually. What if the bouquet is not found? What about the ceremony? What will Lilibet do? He clenched his shaking fists and started pacing up and down. Margaret tugged him to a stop.
“Calm down, Papa. Why are you worrying so much? Mummy has gone upstairs, she will fix everything.” Margaret was confident. He had no doubt in his wife’s ability to solve things, but his heart couldn’t help but worry.
Margaret jumped. “Look, Mummy’s coming!” He turned towards the stairway, she looked calm as ever. All other Bridesmaids sat in their cars, now that the queen has come they will drive out to the abbey.
“Let’s go, Margaret or we shall be late.” She said when she approached them.
“W-w-what a-a-about the b-b-bouquet?” he asked her.
“Oh, it was nothing. A footman had kept it in a cupboard to keep the flowers fresh.” She kept a soothing hand on his shoulder, “Why are you worrying so much, Bertie. Everything will be fine.” Her soothing voice calmed him to an extent. “Now, see you at the abbey.” She kissed him and left with Margaret.
There was a rumble of the engines and it faded as the cars drove out to the Victoria memorial and the mall. Again, the crowd cheered loudly; however, he felt the palace unusually quiet.
He heard a commotion from the stairway and saw the Hartnell’s dressers coming down. Then came the person he was waiting for; Lilibet. There were a number of emotions that rose within him. The white silk dress looked as though she was covered in a cloud. His mind flashed back to when she had worn a white gown like that in his brother’s wedding when she was a bridesmaid. How little she was then, he had carried her up in his arms at the end of the ceremonious day when she was tired.
And now the same girl was coming down the stairs, bouquet in one hand, holding the train of the gown in another, he watched as she took careful steps down the stairs. This gown told that she was the bride.
However, when she caught sight of him, she grinned her girlish grin, just as she did when she was a girl of 5. Some things never change, he smiled in return. She kissed his cheek delightfully when she came near.
“Ready, Papa?” she asked. If she was nervous, she did not show it. Her confident face made him a little relaxed.
He wanted to tell her so much at that moment, he wanted to tell her how he would never be ready to give her away, he wanted to tell how proud he was of her, he wanted to stop her for a moment and find the glimpse of her childhood in her, he wanted to tell her how she was still the little child for him whom he had held in his arms, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her and what a pain it was to him to see her leaving him, after he had told all this, perhaps he they would drive out. But he said none of it. His throat was too tight to say anything. He nodded.
She took his arm and out they went to the glass coach. As he helped her settle inside, holding her bouquet while the ladies put her veil inside, he wondered how many brides this coach had driven to their weddings, how many fathers like him had had their daughters for the last time to themselves in this coach before handing them out to their future. Lilibet was now going to leave the palace for the last time as his daughter, when she will return after this, she will be someone’s wife. This was overwhelming. He got into the carriage, and it left the palace and went out into the waiting world.
The crowd was the wildest when it greeted them. Even the glass windows could not lower their voice. Lilibet waved happily to them, so did he. The drive to reach Westminster Abbey will take only 15 minutes. The last 15 minutes when he will have her all to himself.
“Ready for your wedding?” he asked her. She nodded. He sighed, “You are completely sure with Philip, aren’t you?”
“More than anything.” She said simply.
“This level of trust scares me.” He confessed after a minute. She took his hand.
“Do not worry, Papa. I know what I am doing. I trust him; he will never let me, or you, down. Never.” She said with eyes full of admiration.
He nodded. “Let’s hope so.” She chuckled and continued waving outside. He also turned towards the crowd to wave.
Soon, He caught the sight of the Big Ben. They had reached the Abbey. Everything became a blur. The crowd cheering out loud, getting out of the carriage, helping Lilibet out, while the national anthem was ringing inside.
The archbishop of Canterbury came out to greet them. The moment had come. The bridesmaids, including Margaret took their positions inside the abbey, behind them. The two young pages, his nephews, took hold of the ends of the veil. Lilibet wound her arm through his, the gesture which was very familiar to him. When she was a child and learning to dance, he used to help her practice. Once, She and Margaret wound their arms through his and threw their legs left and right and he picked both of them like that and twirled them in circular motions. Then the three of them dropped on the floor in a fit of giggles. The memory dampened his eyes, he blinked back rapidly. The bridal procession was to start any minute now, and the king must not be sentimental like that when half the Europe is there. He felt unable to go through the ceremony with a straight face.
The fanfare began to play and the archbishop started walking ahead with sword in his hand, after him, it was their turn. Lilibet looked at him and nodded and then they went down the aisle.
All the men bowed and women dropped into deep curtsies as they passed in front of them. Lilibet’s face was calm, just like her mother’s. He felt proud of her beyond words; he wanted the world to see that this young woman was his daughter, his firstborn, his pride. As if it was yesterday, he remembered Lilibet taking her first steps, he had held her hand and walked her and now in a blink he was walking her down the aisle.
The altar came in sight; he saw Philip standing there, straight, just like a man in navy would do. Lilibet was also looking at him, after all she had been waiting for this moment from so long. He felt the opposite about it. He remembered the day when Philip had proposed to her, she was barely 20, the War was barely over. He felt as though Philip was trying to pluck a flower not yet bloomed, the flower he had cared for since it was a bud. He had never thought that his daughter will go away from him so soon, the War had already destroyed many fun memories they could have made. She was a child when it started and suddenly he noticed she was a woman when the thrice damned war ended. He did everything to delay this moment, but Lilibet was so fiercely determined about Philip, that it took only a year and now the moment was here.
They reached the altar. Lilibet let go of his arm, and he felt like a part of his heart had left him. The archbishop was speaking something, but he only half listened, he looked at Lilibet and then at Philip. In a blink this man will take his daughter away from him, forever.
The archbishop started the vows. Firstly, Philip spoke them with a voice which showed determination as Lilibet’s. She spoke her vows delicately. He remembered when she was just learning to speak and would babble most of the time. He told her new words pointing at things. When he had asked her to say her name, instead of saying Elizabeth, she could only say ‘Lilibet’ and thus they started calling her that. But now she spoke her name very clearly when she said, “...I Elizabeth Alexandra Mary take thee Philip...” he realised with a pang, she was no longer that child.
The archbishop turned to him, after her vow was over, and asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” He felt like he was asking him to cut a piece of his soul and give it away. It was he who will give this woman away, and then she would no longer be his, but that man’s. He blinked back quickly, and thanked god that the giver of bride was required to speak nothing, he couldn’t have done that, there was such a big lump in his throat. He took Lilibet’s hand, the same hand he held when he walked her around the house as a child.
Lilibet looked at him with sad eyes, he inhaled deeply and placed her hand, slowly, into the archbishop’s, who in the next moment placed it into Philip’s. It was done. The moment he dreaded had come and gone. Lilibet was gone. Now he could only hope that Philip would always hold the hand he took today in the sight of god.
He didn’t know when the ceremony had finished, exactly when he had left Elizabeth to Philip and had come to his seat. All he could think of was the hollowness he felt, he stood and mourned the loss of something so precious to him, but only in inside, for the outside world he had to smile and thank people who were congratulating him for the wedding of his daughter.
After the ceremony, he stood at the abbey’s entrance and watched Elizabeth (he no longer felt she was Lilibet, for Lilibet was his daughter, and the newlywed bride was Philip’s wife Elizabeth) and Philip getting inside the Glass Coach in which, just an hour or so ago he had come with his daughter. He realised that the historic coach had witnessed as many newlyweds driving into their future as many as it had witnessed heavy hearted fathers with their daughters.
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All was not over yet. There was a big reception at Buckingham Palace. The quiet palace they had left was no longer so, it was crowded with dignitaries from all over the world. He didn’t feel like eating much, drank just as little and tried to involve himself in conversations with guests.
Elizabeth and Philip cut the wedding cake together, with Philip’s sword and everyone remarked how delicious it was. Then it was time for speeches. He was expected to propose a toast. He was hardly able to speak, the lump was still there. The queen placed her hand upon his and told him to take long breaths, so he did.
“I would like to s-say....” he saw that every eye in the room was at him, he didn’t know what he would like to say. He glanced in the direction of Elizabeth and took another breath and spoke, “I would like to say how very proud I am of my daughter.” Another breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, I propose this toast to my pride, my daughter Elizabeth and her new husband.” Everyone raised the toast. He sat down.
Then there was a long, long photo shoot and similarly long waving to the crowd from Buckingham palace’s historic balcony.
The sun was setting, it was getting icy cold. Everyone was preparing for the bride and groom’s departure to their honeymoon home. The loyal crowd was still outside to catch a last glimpse of their princess and her sailor, before they left London to begin their new life.
The queen was looking sad, too. He went over to her and stood beside her.
“Where is Elizabeth?” he asked.
“Changing her outfit. She is going to wear what Norman named as the ‘Going away outfit’?” she replied grimly. What a hell of a name the outfit had. Going away. Away from him. “Can you believe it? she is actually leaving us.”
He shook his head. “I still cannot believe I handed her away with my own hands.”
She nodded. “I know. Margaret is also looking upset, look over there.” He glanced where she pointed. She was standing with other bridesmaids and the best man. Margaret was looking up at the stairs with a gloomy face.
He then glanced around to catch sight of Philip. He was there just a few feet away from the stairway, in conversation with King Michael of Romania, looking up at the stairs every other moment. He was getting impatient to drive away. Why not, after all, Philip wasn’t the one who had lost something that day, like he had.
“Children grow up and leave us, we should always make the best of it.” She said, making him turn his gaze away from Philip and back to her. “What do you say?”
“Don’t say ‘children’. We still have Margaret and I am not giving her away anytime soon. I hope she doesn’t find someone before she is 30 or something.”
She looked at him with disbelief. “Tell me you are joking.” But before he could tell her that he was actually not joking, Elizabeth came down the stairs, in a blue dress, he couldn’t describe much of it; he did not know ladies’ fashion much, but that it looked beautiful. But somehow it didn’t show her as girl, but a woman. He doubted if she will ever look like a girl again, his girl.
She was smiling down at Philip, who, smiling himself, stood at the end of the stairs with his hand outstretched. As she came down and took it, everyone present inside cheered and clapped, not wildly as the crowd outside though, you cannot expect aristocrats to go wild. He, and everyone present there, could see how happy they both were, it eased his heart a bit. In a blink everyone was outside, the carriage was ready. Everyone beckoned the King and Queen to join them to wave them and they willingly went. In the horse drawn carriage, Elizabeth’s Corgi Susan was hidden, wrapped in blankets to surprise her. The bridesmaids had thought of this idea. He remembered vaguely when Elizabeth had requested him day and night to get a dog and finally on her 10th birthday he had surprised her with it.
Presently, the bride and groom came through the flood of guests and sat inside their carriage, Elizabeth gave a squeal of delight when she found Susan inside, the same squeal she had given all those years ago when he had presented that to her on her birthday. He wiped his eyes.
Everyone showered them with rose petals. The carriage horses started ahead, Elizabeth and Philip waved. He and the queen, with Margaret were in front and ran with the carriage; the guests were very amused when the queen pulled up her silk skirts to run.
Elizabeth’s eyes found his and she yelled over the cheering, “Goodbye, Papa! Goodbye Mummy!” And off they both went, outside the gates of the palace, outside of her childhood forever. His little girl was gone. Away from him.
The palace, although it must be full of a thousand people, was empty. Everything was empty, his heart, and his mind. He took his wife’s hand, and saying farewell to the guests, went quietly in their room, to find sleep. When he had woken up that day, he still had his daughter with him, but now what were left in his palace were her memories, of the little girl she had been, not the woman she had become suddenly. Just like the stories he had read to her years ago, she will live happily ever after. He was not sure about himself. He will meet her again, but everything will not be the same again. He will not find his little girl in her again, that was safe in his memory from now.
And thus, the dull November day came to an end.