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The Repair Shop: A Royal Visit
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A slight breach of etiquette, Your Majesty – it’s customary on The Repair Shop, when discovering a treasured heirloom restored to its former glory, for the owner to burst into tears.
Charles didn’t weep. He didn’t even get dewy-eyed. But as he inspected the paint and glaze on a fragile goblet cast to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897, he couldn’t stop beaming.
‘I’m thrilled,’ he murmured, on The Repair Shop: A Royal Visit (BBC1), and he sounded like he meant it.
Oops: Presenter Jay Blades’ ignorance of royal etiquette was diabolical. He knew just about enough to address his regal guest as Your Royal Highness
But if his grasp of telly tradition was slightly shaky, presenter Jay Blades’ ignorance of royal etiquette was diabolical. He knew just about enough to address his regal guest as Your Royal Highness – because when they met at Dumfries House in Scotland last year, Charles was still Prince of Wales.
But after that, Jay chatted away with a studied lack of deference. He’s often polite to the point of obsequiousness when he meets the public. With royalty, though, he seemed to make a point of being a cheeky Cockney chappie.
His first remark was, ‘Hold on a minute, are you carrying tools? What you got there?’ – pointing to the secateurs that the prince had brought. Slightly nonplussed, Charles explained that he’d been doing some pruning around the Ayrshire estate.
Candid: Jay chatted away with a studied lack of deference. With royalty, though, he seemed to make a point of being a cheeky Cockney chappie.
For the rest of the morning, Jay didn’t once say ‘Sir’ – the expected form of address. Perhaps he thought he was being matey, but it simply sounded insolent.
His overfamiliarity was worse when he welcomed Charles to the workshop in Sussex, a few weeks later. Greeting him on the driveway, he handed over a mug of tea, with the letters HRH stencilled on the outside and the teabag apparently still in it.
‘Just what I needed,’ said the prince through gritted teeth, though he didn’t need it enough to actually drink any, before looking for somewhere to get rid of it. ‘Didn’t take long to go cold,’ he said, with an apologetic grimace.
But the worst faux pas was Jay’s insistence on manhandling his visitor. He laid a chummy hand on his shoulder, he slapped his back, he steered him around like he was pushing a supermarket trolley. A masseur couldn’t be more hands-on.
At the end, when Jay grabbed him by the elbow and squeezed, I was worried he might be about to go for a playful half-nelson with a headlock.
Charles kept his composure but it was noticeable that, whenever he had a chance, he turned away from Jay and spoke to the repairers instead.
Charming: Charles didn’t weep but as he inspected the paint and glaze on a fragile goblet cast to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897, he couldn’t stop beaming
Clock expert Steve Fletcher made a point of adding a respectful ‘Sir’ to every sentence, as if he was trying to drop a hint to Jay. On a show with such an emphasis on the ‘old ways’, you might expect a little decorum from the host.
Dumfries House is home to an apprentice scheme for stonemasons, thatchers, blacksmiths and other dying crafts, and much was made of the need to nurture traditional skills.
‘I still think,’ Charles explained, ‘the great tragedy is the lack of vocational education in schools. Actually, not everybody is designed to be academic.’
The restorers all agreed. Blacksmith Jeremy put it best, as he waxed lyrical about his passion for the forge: ‘It’s 4,000 years of knowledge and I love it.’
Two royal items were sent for restoration: an early 18th century bracket clock with woodworm, and the Wemyss-ware goblet, like an egg-cup for an ostrich.
The painted pottery was in a bad way, with no base and lumps chipped out of the pattern. The prince explained it fell off a windowsill when, ‘someone opened a window. They never owned up, I don’t know what happened.’
Jay teased him that he’d broken it himself, which drew a disapproving stare worthy of Paddington Bear. My own guess is that, if Charles were responsible, he’d admit it and make a self-deprecating joke about his clumsiness.
Restoration: Two royal items were sent for restoration: an early 18th century bracket clock with woodworm, and the Wemyss-ware goblet, like an egg-cup for an ostrich
Much more likely that he knows perfectly well what happened but would never dream of betraying the culprit.
Charles did comment, as he handed over the clock, that the Queen Mum had a habit of pottering round the palace, trying to synchronise the clocks so they all chimed together.
On the hour, she would command a hush so she could hear the bells being struck in every room.
‘I just love the sound of a tick-tock,’ he added, ‘and the chime. It’s rather reassuring in a funny way. They become a really special part of a house, the beating heart.’
Jay invited him to come and collect both clock and goblet when they were fixed up, at the Repair Shop barn.
At that, Charles’s eyes twinkled. ‘You’ve got a barn, I’ve got a barn,’ he said. ‘We could have a barn dance.’
Two can play at the cheeky chappie game.
Out and about: Jay invited him to come and collect both clock and goblet when they were fixed up, at the Repair Shop barn
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