A Right Royal Let Down

I am afraid I cannot stay long today as I am tending to Mrs Pumphrey who is bereft at the announcement that Prince William is to marry Kate Middleton.

Mrs Pumphrey was led to believe she had an 'understanding' with the aforesaid Prince, and that when she came of age (next week) it would be she who would become Gloria, Princess of the Kent and Light Sussex Borderland, and ultimately Queen Gloriana Windsor I.

She was even taken last weekend by a Royal bodyguard to H Samuels to choose an engagement ring; however, on hearing the Royal announcement yesterday, in a fit of understandable pique she climbed onto the roof of the Manor, declared the Prince a love-rat and promptly swallowed the engagement ring.

This facilitated a visit to casualty in order to retrieve the ring which, had Mrs Slocombe not interferred with its descent by tossing an ill-timed swede into a prevailing wind, would most likely have gone down the hatch and out the other end without a problem.

Tango Pete, who has long held a torch for Mrs Pumphrey (especially when she has to go into the cellar to bring up the coal) rescued her from the roof using a fireman's lift and a bungee rope. And since that hour, Mrs Miggins and I have been administering tender care to our beloved and broken-hearted friend. Mrs Slocombe has been less sympathetic, mostly because she is appalled at the waste of a perfectly good swede.

We have suggested that there is another Prince waiting in the wings but Pumphrey will have none of it. Apparently, she couldn't possibly marry someone with ginger hair and pink cheeks who regularly falls out of night clubs wearing dubious fancy dress uniforms and spend his weekends flying helicopters. Something to do with her high standing at the Ladies' Crochet and Croquet Guild.

I shall keep you all posted...