The day the Queen Mother smiled at me (From Times Series)

The day the Queen Mother smiled at me

1:18pm Wednesday 9th September 2009

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A Spitfire and a Hurricane will fly past as RAF Bentley Priory, the home of Fighter Command in the second world war, opens its doors in Stanmore to the public this weekend.

It brings back memories of the day I won a car at the priory and nearly had to give it back. The Queen Mother came to my rescue.

I will be in Macclesfield on Saturday with the Barnet FC official WAGS party - Wobbly and Geriatric Seniors that is! - otherwise I would have volunteered to drive past in a baby Fiat recalling a historic connection I have with the Priory.

Let it be told. It began with an invitation to the editor of the Times group to an event at which the Queen Mother and Vera Lynn would be VIP guests.

I brandished the invite in front of Mrs S when I got home. "Sorry you're not invited", I said. "Normally I wouldn't go without you, but Vera Lynn was the Forces Sweetheart from my days in the Services and I'll just nip along and hear her sing and come straight back home".

On the way into the marquee where the event was being held I passed an on-display baby Fiat. And, when I was installed at a Press table in the far, distant corner of the marquee from the action, I was confronted by a formidable lady selling raffle tickets with the car the big prize.

I invested £2 and then, under my breath, cursed the editor of the Harrow Observer who bought £1 worth of tickets and obviously intended to claim £2.

The jollity continued awhile until, in the distance, I heard someone announcing ticket 232 as the raffle winner. "232" was the repeat message ... and cries from around of "Draw again".

"It must be at this table", said another editor and I looked down and saw ---- ticket 232.

As I got to my feet, the voice in the distance called yet again for ticket 232. "I'm here, I'm here", I shouted as I stumbled my way through myriad tables containing leering faces all screeching "Draw again".

After a seeming eternity I found himself in an enclosed area with the Queen Mother and wartime hero Group Captain Douglas Bader on one side and the MC and two ladies on the other.

I pressed my ticket into the hand of one of the ladies, who I later identified as a lady with a capital L and the wife of an RAF bigwig. She handed it to the MC, who announced: "It's ticket 232". The Lady on my right asked my name - and she turned and passed it on to the MC. "Dennis Signy ... winning ticket 232", he boomed. I'm sure that the Queen Mother inclined her head to the right at the announcement and beamed her pleasure in my direction at my success.

At that moment Lady X leant towards me and muttered in my right ear: "Would you give it back?" I was, to coin a phrase, gobsmacked. I had a quick vision of returning home and saying to Mrs S: "Guess what? I won a car tonight ... then I gave it back". We'd never have reached 43 years of bliss!

I stood there, mouth ajar and literally unable to speak. Lady X then leant across behind me and said to the second lady - wife of the bigwig who had donated the car - "This kind gentleman has agreed to donate the car back".

I was about to ask who had a Service revolver so that I could end it all, when the Queen Mother and Bader stood up to open the dancing. "You're too late", hissed the second lady.

"Well done", said the editor of the Harrow Observer. "It was worth the extra investment", I told him.

Vera Lynn was singing "There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover", as I left. It was years before I realised there weren't any bluebirds in the Dover area.I didn't care that night.

I had to go to Berkeley Square to collect the Fiat. All three of the elder children learned to drive in the car, which did a splendid 57 miles to the gallon and ran for years. I really should be driving past Bentley Priory this weekend in memory ... it wouldn't be the same in a Toyota though.

PS. Joe Beckett, the accountant, warned me that the £2 on my expenses for raffle tickets would mean that the car was the property of the newspaper. I quickly changed it to £2 for entertaining newspaper executives from Harrow.