The Queen? The queen! No. No. No! How could I title the current wife of the ex-Prince of Wales The Queen?

I am no slavish follower of the UK royal family (although I still stop short at wishing to declare the country a republic) but this nomenclature has really disgusted me. Having been publicly present as a once loyal subject cheering Charles’ royal wedding and then, less than twenty years later grieving at Diana’s funeral I could never succumb to this absurd rewriting of history.

Not even that truly great royal Albert of Saxe-Coburg could be re-titled a king after his marriage to Victoria. No, this marvellous man who contributed so much to Britain’s standing in the world both industrially and commercially and who was himself a fine artist and an excellent composer was despised by so many.. No. Poor Albert. No king. Not even a proper prince! Just a Prince Consort.

And now in despite of the memory I have of a lovely lady who married my contemporary at Cambridge (in both academic year and subject read – social anthropology) I have to hear of one who never even gave the current monarch the means to continue the succession to the throne and who in looks is not a fraction of a wit anywhere near the radiant beauty of a true English rose but instead continues a well-worn tradition of the dowdy unspectacularity of the typical little-england female…

No, no, no.This will not do at all. But then why should I get so worked up about a member of a Brexitanian-positioned family who, after the dignified, indeed noble reign of a lady who in her own salad days was of equal beauty and grace and well beyond the faint praise of detractors and whose then-prescribed successor was the true embodiment of a classic English rose.

Anyway all I know is that I don’t have a real royal family. Should have known that years ago! Now let me listen to a song from a real Queen: Freddie Mercury!