Four years ago I went to the opening of a Great War display at Nottingham Castle. I was there as a guest of one of my gardening customers, as I don’t normally move in such circles. There were several people I knew there, including two local historians and someone who works as a volunteer in the regimental museum. One of them said to me that I was looking very much like a King.
“What,” I said, “Henry VIII?”
With my ginger beard and regal looks, I have in the past been likened to Henry VIII, though I would like to point out I have no intention of obtaining a divorce or expelling the Church of Rome from the UK.
“No,” he said, “the other one…the bald one…Edward VII.”
Edward VII, or Edward I if you are Scottish
I had to admit, after a few seconds of thinking, that I do look a lot like Edward VII. Considering his somewhat loose morals there is, I suppose, a distant chance of me being in line to the throne.
This is what Edward VII would look like if he had less ermine and more Cotton Traders shirts. And no comb.
Time is, as they say, a great wrecker.