(4 of 4)
11:45 a.m. The last of Blore's rooms leads into bright August light on the bright green lawn where, in more intimate moments, royal corgis romp and snarl. It must be a relief for them to get out too. A shortish crunch down a gravel walk leads to the palace exit, with the souvenir shop off to one side. Its catalog promises all manner of delights: not, it is true, replicas of the lemon knife with which Princess Di allegedly lacerated herself or of the Tampax that Prince Charles supposedly wanted to become, but of other household objects, no less useful in their way. There is a cardboard desk-tidy in the form of the east front of Buckingham Palace (45 pounds); a smallish crystal bowl with a foot, whose wispy swag decoration "echoes a detail from the ceiling of the State Dining Room" (75 pounds). A rosette from the same ceiling, much reduced and done in silver gilt, has become a brooch (50 pounds); half the same rosette, with chain and a small fake pearl, is a necklace (55 pounds). A bit pallid; more shopping channel than Faberge.
But for three quid there are the Buckingham Palace Fine Mint Chocolates, the design taken, the label says, "from a gilded wood pedestal in the White Drawing Room." Yummy. And the white china mug with BUCKINGHAM PALACE written on it in gold script (10 pounds) looks promising. I decide to get one for a relative who is deeply involved with the Republican Movement in Australia. He can stick his toothbrush in it.
"Two mugs and a couple of mints," I say to the saleswoman.
"Sorry, we're all out of mugs."
"Then I'll take two pillboxes."
"The pillboxes are out too."
"Oh well, just the mints."
She puts the mints in a small white shopping bag, which has BUCKINGHAM PALACE printed on it in gold.
"You'll have to write in for the mugs."
"Can you tell me the shipping cost to America?"
"Oh, I wouldn't really be sure. I'd have to ask the supervisor."
The supervisor? Black Rod? The Garter Whatsit of Arms? The Yeoman of the Gold and Silver Pantry?
"Never mind," I say, and leave with my mints. Will they taste as good as M&M's? Better, even, than Fergie's toe? Who can say?