THE MORNING AFTER
The next day I set off for Windsor Castle again. For the first time in almost a week, it’s open to the public and, hopefully, all the décor will still be up in St George’s Chapel.
When I finally make my way through the mob queuing outside the ancient wooden doors (I’d thought to buy my ticket online, thank goodness!), I’m disappointed.
The beautiful chapel is closed off for a Sunday church service, and the exquisite flower arch that adorned the entrance for the wedding is nowhere to be seen.
Annoyed, I set off along the rest of the tour route – I might as well make the most of my visit. It cost an arm and a leg!
But as I wander through the ornate state rooms, listening to the voice on my audio guide warble on about King Henry VIII and Prince Charles the Something, a murmur bubbles up among the tourists.
I glance out the windows to my right – and my eyes almost fall out of my head.
There’s Queen Elizabeth (92), dressed in a smart yellow dress and coat, greeting the castle security staff outside. And Prince Philip (96) is at her side.
She chats to her staff for several minutes then clambers into a nearby car and heads for the royal family’s private section of the castle.
Chattering excitedly, the crowd disperses, but I stay rooted to the spot. I have a sneaking suspicion I may see more members of the world’s most famous family . . . and, yes, there they are!
Minutes later, another set of doors opens and Prince William (35), Prince George (4) and Princess Charlotte (3) appear. The family are dressed simply and comfortably, ready to retreat to the relative privacy of their Kensington Palace home in London.
The children clutch a nanny’s hand as they walk towards an awaiting Land Rover. Suddenly, Charlotte, in a purple dress, bolts for the car. The nanny tries to rein in the ebullient princess, but gives up.
Charlotte leaps into the back seat and George clambers in behind her while their dad strolls off towards the main entrance to bid farewell to the Windsor staff.
While he does this, Kate (36), dressed in jeans, a blue shirt and white sneakers, appears at the doors the rest of the family exited from, a blue bundle clutched to her chest – one-month-old Prince Louis!
Kate takes him to the back seat, probably strapping him into his car seat, before climbing into the front passenger seat.
William returns and hops into the driver’s seat and, with a final wave out the window, he drives off with his brood.
“They look like . . . a normal family,” a woman with a thick European accent says behind me. “This is the stuff they don’t want you to see,” she adds before ambling off to see the rest of the castle.
But see it we did. I may not have seen where Meghan married Harry but I did see the Cambridges. And that’s a pretty good second prize.