King Charles must tame his temper to earn and keep the respect of the nation

KING Charles is grief-stricken for the loss of his mother, yes.

But his expression of utter desolation throughout the funeral suggests an extra weight on his shoulders, that of expectation and duty.

At the age of 73, when the majority of us are hanging up the tools of our trades and spending more time with our begonias, King Charles is only just starting one of the biggest jobs in the world.

Perhaps worse, he has an incredibly tough act to follow.

Her Majesty the Queen was a comforting constant through times of crisis who never seemed to view life through the prism of herself.

In a modern world blighted by oversharing, she shared little, if any, of her opinions — which, considering she was educated, quick-witted and bright, must have felt deeply frustrating at times.

But from the moment she became monarch at the tender age of 25 she understood that her role was to stay quiet on political matters so she could represent all of her subjects.

The extraordinarily diverse crowd that lined the streets as her coffin passed are proof that she achieved it.

When the time comes, will the passing of King Charles have the same impact? Or by then, will the monarchy be a noticeably diminished force?

May I humbly suggest that it depends on whether he can curb some of his unpalatable excesses and accentuate his obvious strengths.

First, the excesses. Yes he was grief-stricken. Yes he was emotionally and physically exhausted. And yes, he was understandably tetchy.

But Pengate must be a one-off display of petulant irritability.

His mother would never have shown a lack of temper control at such an important moment in front of a global audience.

Also, he is taking the top job just as his subjects enter a cost-of-living crisis that is going to bite deep.

He’s canny enough to know that a slimmed-down monarchy is the way forward and has reportedly been planning for it for some time.

But if he’s to keep the respect of the people, he needs to live in the real world too.

While stories abound of The Queen’s penchant for Tupperware meals and warming herself in front of an old-fashioned two-bar heater, the “pampered prince” as he is reportedly known at Clarence House is seemingly far grander.

According to various sources over the years, he has his pyjamas and sheets ironed daily, he changes his clothes “five times a day” and leaves the cast-offs thrown around for others to pick up, two people dress him each day, and when he stays at friends’ country houses, a truck goes ahead of him carrying his “bed, furniture and even pictures.”

Including his own toilet seat.

Entitled behaviour

It makes life at Downton Abbey look like an inner city sink estate.

On top of all that, unlike Mrs Scroggins of Acacia Avenue, who wants to leave her, say, £500k house to her children, he on everything he has inherited from his mother, and HMRC has long afforded him special tax breaks on the annual £21million plus Duchy of Cornwall earnings.

But now to his strengths. Having met him several times at functions, he is far more personable, warm, and engaging in conversation than his more inscrutable mother was.

That will be valuable if the monarchy is to evolve with these more touchy-feely times.

His personally written note to my Loose Women colleague Brenda Edwards after she lost her son Jamal was sensitive, intuitive and heart-warming.

Actor Richard E Grant was also astonished to receive a four-page, hand-written missive after the death of his wife Joan, so it is clear Charles has a good heart.

Our new monarch also picked up the climate change cudgel long before it became fashionable to do so, is passionate about new architecture being respectful to its surroundings and his superb Prince’s Trust charity has helped countless disadvantaged young people realise their ambitions.

All of this is commendable and, along with his obvious distress at the passing of his mother, contributes to him currently enjoying a groundswell of goodwill across the nation.

But it could easily be lost through any more public petulance or entitled behaviour.

Princess Diana’s former protection officer, Ken Wharfe, wrote in his memoir published this year: “While there’s a lot of good about the Prince of Wales, he is completely disconnected from the real world, or at least he was in the 1980s and 1990s. I can see no reason why it will have changed.”

If so, it needs to change right now if he is to earn, and keep, the same national respect as his mother.

Brit of silence

BRITNEY Spears says she won’t see her two teenage sons until she feels “valued” in their relationship.

Parental respect has to be earned, not demanded.

And a period of silence might now be advised if that it is to be achieved.

Left-hand William's sign of difficulty

WHEN Prince William signed the proclamation document, his awkward left-handedness was there for all to see.

I sympathise, as I write exactly the same way.

My clunky wrist-bend technique was forged as a necessity when, at school, I was required to use a fountain pen and had to avoid smudging what I’d just written.

I’m not sure about William, but I’m a 100 per cent left-hander who kicks with my left foot, has the knife to my left, bought a left-handed guitar for the five minutes I took lessons and have to wilfully concentrate when offering a handshake for fear of putting the wrong mitt forward.

But . . . I scored many a rounder against opposing schools by holding the bat in my right hand, then rapidly switching it to my left to whack the ball to the unfielded side of the pitch.

We left-handers must take our small blessings where we find them.

Ry time to set goals

TV presenter Rylan Clark says his mum Linda sometimes turns up at his house at embarrassing moments – even when told not to.

“So what does she do? I’m in bed like, ‘Ah, lovely night’, then I hear ‘Hello!’

“I’ve never bolted down the stairs quicker. ‘Whose car’s that?’ I’m like, ‘Get out!’

There are many milestones along the path from childhood to being a grown up.

And getting your mother to prearrange a visit or, at the very least, ring the doorbell, is very much one of them.

Chews wisely

SUPPOSEDLY “romantic” clients are spending a small fortune on hiring event planners for extravagant marriage proposals that are professionally filmed by drones and packaged up for “likes” on Instagram.

Ugh. I can’t think of anything less romantic.

Surely, if someone actually wants to be with you, giving them your last Rolo while sitting on a park bench has more meaning than some lavish spectacle organised by strangers?