Perks of the Job 2. In the Presence of Greatness.
So there I was, sitting quietly working in my office in Dakar when the phone rings and I find myself talking to the wife of the British Ambassador. “Ah, Robert,” says Madame Ambassador “I’m glad I caught you. We are giving a small dinner party for the Princess Royal next Friday. I wondered if you and Linda might be available.”
We knew that Princess Anne was due to visit Senegal on her way to an official visit to the Gambia in her capacity as patron of the Save the Children Fund. Indeed we had already been invited to the official ‘Garden Party’ on the Thursday of her visit.
Linda and I were introduced to the Princess at the reception in the embassy garden before the royal personage went off to shake the hands of the assembled dignitaries and other members of the small British community.
But dinner at the Embassy was quite another matter. So, the following evening, in best bib and tucker, and uncomfortable new shoes that I had had to buy in Dakar market that afternoon, we turned up at the Embassy, clutching our rather grand and exclusive invitation.
Monsieur l’Ambassadeur and Madame Macrae had invited sixteen guests, arranged around one table. The table plan represented the cream of British and Senegalese society… and us!
Linda had pride of place at the foot of the table with, on her right, General Seck, the head of Senegal’s Armed Forces, his chest dripping with medals and, on her left, Princess Anne’s Lady-in-Waiting, the Honourable Dame Shan Legge-Bourke, the mother of ‘Tiggy’ Legge-Bourke, who was later to become the nanny of Princes William and Harry and, later still, personal assistant to Prince Charles.
I found myself at the other end of the table, seated next to Mme Abdou Diouf, the wife of the President of Senegal, and opposite Mme Mochtar Kebe, who was the wife of the Senegalese Finance Minister and worked for Citibank in Dakar. Mme Kebe, ably aided and abetted by Mme Diouf, spent most of the evening trying to convince me to move OXFAM’s bank account from our existing bank to Citibank, a suggestion that I steadfastly, and. as it turns out, very unwisely resisted. But that’s another story….!)
Princess Anne was seated next to the President and opposite the Ambassador. She was in fine form! She had spent the day in St Louis, the former capital of Senegal, four hours north of Dakar, visiting a fishing community (for reasons that now escape me). She had had a wonderful time and seemed to have spent most of the afternoon gossiping with a group of fisherwomen who, it would seem, had no real idea who she was, other than a random visitor and a woman. From what I was able to glean from the other side of the table, the conversation between the Princess and the fishwives had been raucous, ribald and rude and certainly not suitable for the delicate ears of any of the gentlemen in the room!
Each place-setting at dinner had four fine glasses, one for water, one for red wine, one for white wine and the fourth for champagne. Now I have never been a Royalist and have always questioned whether the eye-watering cost of the British monarchy and its sprawling and ever growing royal family was a justifiable use of the British public’s hard-earned money. However, by the time I had progressed through the red wine (that had been patiently waiting for me in its bottle since 1978), and the white Gewuerztraminer and was nursing my second glass of champagne, I could feel my staunch Republican sentiments receding gently into the comfortable alcoholic haze that was gradually engulfing me.
Two other snippets of conversation from the evening remain in my befuddled memory.
The first was during the cheese course. A full, perfectly ripe Stilton had been flown in specially on the Queen’s Flight, along with the Princess. (Well, you have to amortise the cost somehow!) It made its way anticlockwise around the table. It was, of course, in perfect condition and was presented on a wooden board with a knife, a fork and a spoon.
Linda had already had to struggle to contain herself when Mme Legge-Bourke actually voiced her despair about how difficult it was to get good staff these days to work on her extensive country estate in mid-Wales. The expression, “You just can’t get the staff, you know!” entered our family lexicon that evening and has been used at moments of frustration ever since.
Then the cheese board arrived in front of the Honourable Lady-in-Waiting. One horrified, honourable eyebrow was raised and the princess’s companion was heard to utter the immortal words “Oh, my God! Someone has been spooning the Stilton!”
It is to Linda’s eternal credit that she kept a straight face as she used the cheese-knife to help herself to a modest piece of ‘safe’ cheddar and passed the cheeseboard on to the humourless General Seck and his medals.
The second memorable exchange was between Madame Ambassador and Abdou Diouf, the President of the country.
At the end of the cheese course, the President announced that the time had come for him to take his leave.
“But Monsieur le President,” objected Madame Macrae, “You haven’t yet tasted the marmalade ice cream with ginger sauce. I prepared it myself.” President Abdou Diouf, with great grace and good humour simply replied, “Dans ce cas, il faut que je reste.” The bodyguard was sent away and the President stayed for dessert!
He knew better than to get on the wrong side of Madame Macrae!
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