When I was 12 years old, sitting in a classroom in a school in which even an ill-advised look could get you thrown into detention (“ARE YOU BEING INSOLENT, BOY?”), a shout suddenly erupted from the window side of the room. “It’s the Queen! It’s the Queen!”. We all leapt out of our seats to watch Her Majesty gliding past in a Rolls or a Bentley, waving a…
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