I detected a flash of amusement cross King Charles III’s face when I described the Princess of Wales running uphill in high heels and a big hat. She had been in such a rush to reach the start of a society wedding.

‘Eventually a man on a quad bike rescued her’, I explained, grinning at both the story itself, and at my success in making the solemn King smile (almost).

We were together because the King was training me as a member of his innermost circle. Today I was to practise welcoming dignitaries in a reception line. Then I would be all set for Ascot.

Although I enjoyed my new role, I missed TPR. Unfortunately he had failed to make it through the selection process at Porton Down. Attempting the escape room type tests in a beige suit had not impressed the selectors.