HRH The Duke of Kent
A month or so ago I was at a fairly posh lawyer-type dinner. This particular evening was fairly special, as instead of being relegated to separate ends of the hall, the Benchers and the students were seated amongst each other. This not only results in a massive amount of brown-nosing (hey, everyone wants to be liked by the Judge) but also a significantly improved menu for us students.

I’d been to one of these events about 6 months before and managed to avoid talking to anyone able to help my career, so I wasn’t too hopeful this time. Lo and behold, I was sat on the furthest edge of the “main” table, completely surrounded by other students equally determined to out-drink the benchers.

Just as the first course was served, the Butler (no, really) comes up, grabs my place card and tells me to follow. “Zeppelin” methinks, “I’m about to be kicked out of the hall for wearing the wrong cut of robes”. I’m taken to the centre of the table, where the Butler swaps my card with that of an empty seat and almost forces me into the chair.

So, as you do, I introduce myself to my immediate neighbours. Opposite: female student from a rival school, right: a professor from Queen Mary Uni, left: an old gent, very polite but didn’t quite catch his name when I introduced myself (by first name, of course).

It’s only some time later that I glance over at this rather sweet old gent’s place-card and spot the tell-tale HRH at the top. Trying to discreetly peep over his shoulder I can just about make out “Prince Edward, Duke of Kent” below.

Obviously, it would have helped a lot if we hadn’t shared the same first name. So…I met the Queen’s cousin, shook hands and greeted him “Hello, Edward”…and managed to avoid calling him “your highness” for the entire evening (wasn’t too sure if I was supposed to…I was).

We had a good chat about the plight of student lawyers these days, the highlight of which was Rival Girl asking his majesty “So, are you a lawyer then?”. The treasurer’s (sat next to HRH) reaction was priceless…pity he couldn’t really swear in the company.
(nancyboy Oooh that tickles, Tue 8 Aug 2006, 23:14, Reply)