Visiting the Far Side of Windsor

A cache of photos and mementoes of a loyal Royal servant are up for auction tomorrow. Stephen McGinty thinks they are priceless

WHY is it that whenever the Royal Family, perhaps in the interests of benevolent patronage, decide to cast off the ermine robes and attempt to get down with their subjects, they become, quite literally, terrifying? The case for the prosecution of this particular hypothesis is Exhibit A, the above photograph, taken at an informal staff party prior to the Queen Mother's 100th birthday. It's as if Gary Larson, the Far Side cartoonist, had drawn the picture but forgot to append the caption.

Let's start with the sinister dark-haired woman in white playing God only knows what from of Satanic hymn on the most infernal musical instrument this side of the theremin or accordion, the portable electric Hammond organ. Her glazed expression, window-frame glasses and head tilted towards what, for all we know, may be a hobgoblin holding up the musical manuscript to a dark Mass, exudes an atmosphere of unease.

Then there is Prince Charles. The Highland dress, red kilt, sporran, crushed velvet jacket and bow-tie are all quite respectable, comforting even, but look at the expression on his face, like a hawk sighting a mouse. And yet the object of his delight is his grandmother, decked in a robe of garish rose red, and holding the hands of a commoner in a manner that can best be described as "gingerly".

The man in black is not, of course, Johnny Cash, but "backstairs" Billy Tallon, the Queen Mother's most trusted servant, whose collection of 644 personal photographs and royal mementoes, including notes and instructions from his boss, will be auctioned on Saturday and expected to raise £250,000. The collection's insight into the Royal Family is priceless. The above photograph, which was taken at Birkhall, the Queen Mother's Scottish retreat on the Balmoral Estate, mirrors a photograph, Exhibit B, taken in Castlemilk of the Queen taking tea with a local resident in her newly refurbished home. (The Queen, I should add, was in the resident's house, just in case anyone was under the impression that Her Majesty was now examining the red boxes of office from a Glasgow housing estate.) Both pictures have an unreal quality, as if staged by Stanley Kubrick.

Yet the curious thing is that even the casual photographs of the Royals at ease reveal a family who appear stiff and uncomfortable. Among the collection are a couple of pictures of the Queen Mother's birthday lunch at Clarence House on 4 August 1995. As an accompanying note explains, the Queen Mother had particularly requested that her party dine outdoors. "If it is a beautiful day, could we have lunch under the tree – one could have 14 at the table & 4 at the small table – ER. All depending on the weather." Yet the two photographs, taken from both ends of the table, reveal a curious mixture of individuals in stiff suits, starched shirts and ugly floral print dresses. Prince William, then 13, appears to be in conversation with a Sir Ralph Anstruther, the Queen Mother's treasurer. You can almost imagine the dialogue:

William: "Does great-granny have a lot of money?"

Sir Ralph Anstruther: "Did, my boy, Did. She's sunk it all in vintage gin."

While, across the elaborate floral display, at the other side of the polished table sit Prince Andrew and Princess Margaret.

Princess Margaret: "What is it you do?"

Prince Andrew: "Funny – I was going to ask you the same thing."

Sadly, despite spending 51 years in devotion to queens, princes and princesses, the last few years of Billy Tallon's life were no fairytale. Devastated by the death of his partner, Reginald Wilcock, and by the Queen Mother's months later, Tallon retired into the bottle and was once found, hopelessly drunk, literally lying in the gutter. He died last year, at the age of 72. He may have hoped the photographs would reveal a lighter side to the family he adored, but on the evidence it all appears rather chilling.