The Lower Strangling Chronicles
At 18:30 on the 8th of September 2022, just under eighteen months after her husband and just over a week after former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth realms died at 96.
Robert was the first person in Lower Strangling to find out that the end was nigh. He was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone when he discovered that pretty much everyone at the BBC had changed into black clothing amid concerns for Her Majesty’s health, and that her family had traveled to Balmoral to see her.
Robert knew exactly what this meant; Operation London Bridge was in motion.
He immediately texted Simon; London Bridge is falling, get the TV on.
A little while later, everyone in Lower Strangling had gathered in the Hangman’s Noose, watching footage of the entrance gate to Balmoral on the news. They were all clutching glasses of Champagne, ready to toast the potentially soon-to-be-deceased monarch, when Huw Edwards announced the inevitable dreadful news.
It was a very British scene.
“She may not actually die.” Paul said. “You know how these old ladies are like? You think they’re going to die one minute, the next they’re completely fine, and it was a false alarm.”
“I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have put Operation London Bridge in motion if they weren’t certain she was dying.” Robert said. “In fact, I believe she may have already died. They just haven’t told us yet.”
“If you say so,” Paul said.
An hour and half had passed, and there was still no definite news whether the Queen had died.
“How long is this going to go on for?” Eleanor asked her dad.
“Until she either snuffs it or does a jig on the balcony.” Dave said.
John had bounced to the bathroom and come back when the BBC made the announcement.
“They’ve just announced her death.” Simon said to John.
John paused for a moment. “Drat, I missed it. I wanted to be present when it happened.” He said, walking back to the rest of the group.
“Oh well, you can’t have it all.” Said Simon, who had missed the death of his own grandmother because of similar circumstances.
After a while, the residents of Lower Strangling raised their Champagne glasses.
“To Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, the second of the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth Realms, may she rest in peace in the Kingdom of He whom she served alongside her country for over 70 years.” Simon said.
The others repeated him, then they all drank their Champagne glasses in unison. Eleanor and Will choked on theirs, having never tasted Champagne before.
The others laughed, then put their Champagne flutes away and left the pub, reminiscing about the woman that was Queen Elizabeth II.
An hour later, the Village Council held an impromptu meeting, as they had planned in the early 1960s, when then vicar Paul Starr was first briefed on Operation London Bridge.
“So, the time has come. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has died.” Simon said.
“I always thought she would at least live to be a hundred,” Robert said. “Her mother lived to 101 after all.”
“To be honest, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d lived forever.” John said. “But oh well, no one’s immortal.”
“And she’s now in a better place, the Kingdom of God.” Simon said.
“Yeah, I guess.” John said.
“But anyway, now that she has died, the one thing we need to decide now is what do we do during the National Mourning Period?” Simon said.
“I’m planning on closing the pub until her funeral.” John said. “I know the pub is rarely closed and I may lose a significant amount of income, but I believe it’s the right thing to do. Besides, at least we’ll avoid a similar sort of fracas that occurred when Philip died*.”
“Yes, of course.” Simon said. “The sooner we forget about what happened when Philip died, the better.”
Simon clears his throat.
“Now then, what else are we going to do?”
“I haven’t heard from Jo as she’s still in Yorkshire with Janet, but I assume she’ll close the Botanic Garden during the National Period of Mourning.” John said.
“Very well. As for where the church is concerned, I’m planning to hold all services as original planned. I believe holding a harvest festival service where we give away food to those who need it is exactly how Her Majesty would like us to remember her.” Simon said.
The others agreed.
“I’ll say a few words this Sunday, and welcome in His Majesty King Charles III and swear our allegiance to him.” Simon said.
“It’s going to take me a while to get used to that.” Dave said. “It always seemed like a long way off. Sometimes it seemed like he would never be King.”
“Yes. Well, it’s happening, and we’ve got to get used to it eventually.” Simon said. “Anyway, I’ll hold a more formal memorial service closer to the time of Her Majesty’s funeral once the government announces it.”
The others agreed, then continued to plan what they were going to do during the National Mourning Period.
After a while, and they had shared whatever memories they had of the Queen, the Village Council closed the meeting and left the village hall.
And so the sun set on the second Elizabethan era and rose again on the third Carolean era.
*See The Alfresco Fiasco
The Robinsonverse 