There have been so many wonderful and moving tributes today, it has been a real pleasure to be in the Chamber to listen to them all. With your permission, Mr Deputy Speaker, I will make my tribute through the eyes of the schoolchildren of Tatton.
So many MPs have mentioned the curiosity children have about the late Queen Elizabeth II. The question they ask, particularly in primary and junior schools, is, “Have you met the Queen?” When I say yes there are literally squeals of delight and gasps of disbelief. Uncontainable excitement ripples through the class. Such was the impact that this lady had on people of all ages and in all parts of the country. She loved children and children loved her. And the clatter of questions that followed! “Were you nervous when you met her?” “How was she?” “What’s she like?” “Where did you meet her?” So I try to describe the Queen to them as they sit and listen, eyes wide open.
“Well,” I say, “she was diminutive, yet she was imposing. She was gentle, yet steely. With that powderpuff grey hair, she was radiant and she shone, but it was her eyes that were remarkable and memorable. They were penetrating and bottomless, the knowledge behind them limitless. You could almost feel what she had seen and experienced. You were in the presence of wisdom—and they were kind, too. She was a curious blend, quite disarming and yet incredibly caring. And was I nervous? Without doubt. You’re in the presence of greatness, whose life has spanned war and peace, and that nervousness is amplified by the royal protocol that she lived through and by.
“When you are made a Privy Counsellor and you have steps to take and kneels to bow, there is meticulous choreography—the timing, quick steps, kneels, the precision of words and taking oaths—and the seal of office at Sandringham. It was magical; it was a whirl of rooms and doors opening. It was brevity, but intensity, and as we left we were all handed a packed lunch.” All I can say is that it was thoughtful but simple, no frills—I think it was nutritionally balanced, but there was no fuss whatsoever; there was no bother or nonsense. As deputy Chief Whip, I was also Treasurer of Her Majesty’s Household.
What the Queen loved, and where I met her and spent more time with her, was Windsor Castle, with her horses in her stables, which she absolutely loved. She confided that one of her best memories was the day that Estimate, trained by Sir Michael Stoute, won the Gold Cup at Royal Ascot. She spoke to her trainers, Nicky Henderson and John Gosden, every week without fail. That was what she loved. I am delighted that the St Leger is going ahead this weekend, not least because the Queen won it in her silver jubilee year with Dunfermline, ridden by Willie Carson, one of her favourite jockeys.
She was kind and, finally, thoughtful. In my final conversation with her, she questioned social media and its impact, and said, “Could anybody these days keep a secret?” She talked about Operation Mincemeat, the deception that fooled Hitler and helped us to win the war, and she said, “Can people keep things to themselves, or do they feel that they’d sooner tell everybody, and maybe spoil what should be done?”
When I leave children, I say, “Have you got discretion? Can you keep a secret? Are you selfless? Can you think of the greater good more than you can think of yourself? And if you can, then the Queen has done her job and her spirit and her qualities will live on in all of us.” God bless the Queen. God save the King.
4.32 pm