Page 40 of The Queen's Corgi

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For a while, she remained in silent contemplation. Then there came a noise from the entrance to the chapel and we looked up to see Michael approaching. In a white cloak that seemed more like monk’s robe than raincoat, he seemed to reflect the warm gold of the altar as he came closer, his bright blue eyes dazzling in the pale light.

As he drew closer he paused, bowing. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, greeting her.

She met his eyes with a grateful smile. ‘I’m pleased to see you,’ she said. ‘Very nice cloak.’

‘The colour of the moon,’ he responded. ‘In Christian mysticism, Jesus can be seen in a robe of this colour. It symbolises resurrection.’

He stepped over where I’d settled at her feet, before sitting on the pew beside her. Gazing in the same direction as she was, he soon observed in a soft voice, ‘In all the world, there are few places of such antiquity and transcendence. You can feel the devotional energy, like milk and honey.’

She nodded. ‘The cross is always a source of deep contemplation about what it means to be human.’

‘Indeed, ma’am. A universal symbol. The horizontal line representing matter. The vertical representing spirit. Man as the intersection of spirit and matter.’

‘Many people today think of themselves as nothing more than matter.’

Michael nodded. ‘It’s unfortunate how many have been so seduced by conventional appearances that they will even deny the possibility of anything beyond their limited senses. But perception is misleading. The material world is not as it seems. Little do many people realise that the matter they believe to be so solid is nothing more than their own imagining.’

The Queen shifted in her seat. ‘Even when one knows this to be true, one still needs to deal with . . . conventional concerns,’ she observed.

‘Of course. The dilemma. But in doing so, we need to recollect that what we are witnessing is merely the dance of appearances, whose only importance is the opportunity it gives us to act in accordance with the divine purpose. To manifest God’s love.’

Her Majesty sat in silence for a long while considering this, before she observed, ‘I suppose I come to this place to be reminded of what you say. Understanding the concepts may be helpful, but it needs to go deeper, doesn’t it? We need to truly realise it.’

‘Indeed, Your Majesty. Knowledge on its own gets us only so far. To be of real benefit, knowledge needs to change our behaviour.’

Although I was resting at Her Majesty’s feet, I was paying close attention to every word that was being spoken. I recognised how very similar it was to what Winston had told me at the summer party.

‘Contemplation can help. Casting a stone into a tranquil lake has a much greater impact than throwing the same stone into a turbulent sea. So, too, the understanding of a settled mind.’

After a while the Queen turned to Michael. ‘I am fortunate to have you to advise me.’ Her voice was warm with appreciation. ‘Both fortunate and very grateful. It seems to me that we are all surrounded by symbols and wisdom which can be transforming. But we need to learn their meaning.’

‘Hidden in plain sight,’ agreed Michael.

As he spoke, I shifted where I was lying on the floor, turned to look at him and pricked up one and a half ears. Again, the exact words Winston had used when stacking his bones beside the flowerpots. Could it be that he had learned his wisdom while sitting at Michael’s feet?

‘Someone seems very interested in what you just said,’ observed the Queen.

‘Oh, he has been listening to it all very carefully,’ said Michael with complete confidence.

I wondered how he could be so sure.

Leaning over to pat me, he asked Her Majesty, ‘How is our little alchemist?’

‘Coming on in leaps and bounds,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Turning base metal into the finest gold.’

‘I had no doubt that would happen.’

Her Majesty recounted the recent visit to Gloucester and the rescue of Cara that had led to my being named Nelson. Michael regarded me closely, warm appreciation showing in his blue eyes.

‘A telling start

to what will be a most auspicious life.’ His words seemed filled with significance.

The Queen regarded him closely. ‘I’m so pleased you said that.’

‘Without question.’ He nodded, ‘I see great things ahead for Nelson. Great purpose.’

Great things were not to unfold that same afternoon, however. On leaving the chapel, Her Majesty decided to take a short stroll near the river. I was more than pleased to join her. With security lurking in the background, we set off on that dullest of afternoons, the pallid winter sunlight unable to break through the heavy clouds, the grey riverbanks and spindly silhouettes of branches as dark as before. But after our time in the chapel, the outside world didn’t seem so gloomy. As Michael had explained, the way that outward things appeared had to do with the way we saw them. And as beings whose true purpose was the manifestation of love, even a solemn, winter afternoon could be an invigorating place for adventure.


Tags: David Michie Fiction