One day Elizabeth woke up and decided to go shopping. She dressed in trousers and an anorak and wrapped a paisley scarf around her hair. After breakfast she ducked through the kitchen, out the gates and was on the No. 32 bus before anyone had noticed she was gone.
First stop, Boots the Chemist for Polident and aspirin. Next, Sainsbury’s for those home brand raspberry buns she was partial to. Then Topshop for a new pair of casual slacks.
She was window shopping on Regent Street, sucking on a sherbet lemon, when she heard heavy footsteps running towards her and the inevitable voice of a policeman.
“Your Majesty. Time to go back to the Palace now. Your husband has been so worried about you.”
Typical, thought the Queen. Men hate it when their wives go shopping. “Can One just pop into Marks and Spencer?” she asked. “One needs some new knickers.”