WHAT, one wonders, is going through the mind of the Queen as she and Prince Philip celebrate his 99th birthday in lockdown?
Unencumbered by a relentless schedule of pressing the flesh around the country, she’s having the first extended break of her admirably dutiful life.
A rare sighting of her on horseback shows her deep in thought, perhaps reflecting, as we all do in moments of quiet contemplation, on the well- being of her loved ones. In her case, it’s not pretty.
Where to start? How about son number two who, thanks to his friendship with billionaire paedophile Jeffrey Epstein is now embroiled in an ugly, cross-Atlantic ding dong with an American legal system that kowtows to no one.
Clearly, Andrew hoped his royal status might ensure discretion. But the US Department of Justice has other ideas and has now publicly accused him of lying when he says he has offered to co-operate with their inquiries into Epstein’s questionable activities.
It’s uncertain whether The Queen and Prince Philip have Netflix in their lockdown lair at Windsor Castle, but if they have watched the documentary Jeffrey Epstein: Filthy Rich — in which their reportedly favourite son is mentioned many times — they will have spat out their popcorn.
Aside from the well- documented claim by Virginia Roberts that she was trafficked to London at the age of 17 to have sex with Prince Andrew (which he denies), one of the most damning accusations is the alleged sighting of him at Epstein’s private island where airport staff now say that the billionaire, who allegedly killed himself last year, frequently arrived with “underage girls”.
Ordinary people staying schtum at the time for fear of losing their jobs is one thing; but the silence of the many powerful men who enjoyed Epstein’s hospitality is quite another.
Prince Andrew is undoubtedly one of them and, at the very least, he owes it to Epstein’s survivors to sit down with the US Department of Justice and reveal what he does, or doesn’t, know.
And as if that’s not enough to give his mother sleepless nights, he and his ex-wife Sarah Ferguson are also being sued for a £6.7million unpaid debt on a Swiss ski chalet.
Meanwhile, son number one (aka Charles) is happy enough in his second marriage, but reportedly harbouring a deep sadness that one of his sons has chosen to leg it to the US, along with the baby grandson he can no longer hug.
On top of that, he faces forking out millions to help Harry and Meghan pay for personal protection because not only have they chosen to settle down in paparazzi central, but in a country where the gun culture means any nutter can wander into a store and arm up as easily as buying a microwave.
Son number three (Edward) has just announced that his children won’t use royal titles and will work for a living.
But one wonders whether, given the pressure to streamline the monarchy, they jumped before they were pushed.
Daughter Anne is a reliable stalwart, but grandson Peter recently announced his marriage to wife Autumn is over, and as for grandsons William and Harry, it’s fair to say that the reported fall-out of those two young brothers who walked so stoically behind their mother’s coffin must be causing The Queen great sadness.
So, with all that going on with her nearest and dearest, how will she feel when lockdown finally lifts and she’s expected to put on a brave face to the world again?
Will she think, “I’ve had enough” and, as was rumoured prior to the pandemic, abdicate on her 95th birthday next year?
Doubtful, given that she pledged she would be of service “my whole life” and that, traditionally, British monarchs occupy the throne until death.
But, given her family ructions, who could blame her if she did decide to call it a day?
Prince Andrew is to keep his £300,000-a-year, taxpayer-funded bodyguards after complaining to the Queen. Interesting.
If he had bodyguards with him on his various visits to Epstein, then perhaps they could enlighten the US authorities on Andrew’s movements at the time?
And if he didn’t, then why the hell does he need them now?
As if the new, 14-day quarantine rule wasn’t daft enough, it’s emerged that police have been told to take “no immediate action” if a passenger gives a false address on arrival in the UK.
Right. So the only travellers affected by this ludicrous policy will be the law-abiding and public figures who risk being spotted on holiday then named and shamed if they don’t self-isolate upon return.
Everyone else can just give their details as Mickey Mouse of Taking The Mickey Street, and go about their life with impunity.
Meanwhile, the airline industry is teetering on the verge of bankruptcy because it sends out the message that Britain is closed.
Well. Done. Everyone.
Prince Albert of Monaco has a problem – his subjects are getting too old.
According to the BBC2 documentary Inside Monaco, it’s the most elderly country on Earth.
So the principality has launched an “influencer” award aimed at attracting a younger “YouTube” generation who, if the footage of their garish supercars is anything to go by, have money but zero taste.
The awards are the brainchild of the prince’s friend . . . (takes deep breath) . . . Princess Camilla of Bourbon Two Sicilies, Duchess of Castro (stop laughing at the back.)
If Little Britain ever does return to our screens, she’s a shoo-in.
Dancing On Ice is reportedly considering filming the show with two-metre social-distancing measures in place.
If the rumours of their big fallout are true, last series contestant Caprice and her dance partner Hamish Gaman would have had no trouble with implementing it.
Pixar’s animated movie Coco has been voted the most tear-jerking film of all time, with Marley & Me in second place and Schindler’s List in third.
It was the result of a Twitter survey by US film critic Kevin Lee, who asked followers to tell him “the hardest you’ve ever cried in a movie/TV show”.
I haven’t seen Coco, but my weepiest, cinematic experience didn’t make the top ten.
It’s Mask – starring Cher and Eric Stolz – a film that rendered me so inconsolable that the man in front of me asked if I could “shut the hell up”.
And Goodbye Mr Chips wasn’t far behind either – but at least I was home on the sofa for that one.
Other than Leonardo DiCaprio browsing for a new girlfriend, who actually shops at underwear store Victoria’s Secret any more?
Not many Brits, it seems – its 25 UK stores have just gone in to administration.
Back in the day, VS underwear was tasteful and good quality, but somewhere along the way it lost sight of its core customer.
The owners clearly forgot that, while men lusted after the scantily-clad “Angels” such as Alessandra Ambrosio at its catwalk shows (now cancelled after being criticised as “outdated”), it’s primarily women who buy lingerie.
And the majority want “tastefully boudoir” not “garishly bordello”.
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