Now the day approaches, and Maurice eagerly awaits her return. Two significant problems threaten to upset his plans, however: nobody believes him, and – perhaps more significantly – he is desperately ill and may not survive long enough to see the day itself.

Nichola McAuliffe features as a palliative nurse in her own script, which allows her the opportunity to get some decent one-liners (particularly in her final scene), and while performance plaudits deservedly go to Julian Glover, Maurice’s Jubilee is arguably really all about Helena, Maurice’s wife, played with fizzy energy by Shelia Reid.

It is a portrayal of a woman who has quietly shifted and accommodated to the whims of the two men in her life. This is a play that is largely about self-deception and delusion.

Each of the characters speak about the way that they perceive the world (and how the world apparently perceives them), as well as the idea that The Queen might actually be a real person under the weight of her diamonds. We’re allowed to see a reflection of The Queen herself, as each waiting party guest has their own idea of exactly what’s going on in her magisterial head. It seems that Elizabeth II may often feel subjected to her subjects.

Helena is convinced that Maurice will be disappointed by The Queen’s absence, but at the same time, she attempts to disguise her own disappointment that The Queen has always been very much present in their marriage.

For a narrative that discusses sentimentality and romance at great length, this is a remarkably clear-headed piece. Maurice is given a grim sense of humour by Glover’s no-nonsense tones, and he speaks about the tumours that are rudely stealing his life with a blunt, disparaging air.

Maurice is able to declare a deep, abiding love for his wife (‘Queen of my heart’) whilst at the same time yearning over a romantic memory of a long ago princess without ever seeing that the declaration of one might ever dilute the importance of the other. In that, he’s a believably blinkered, even mildly selfish man, but like many blinkered and selfish men, is blessed with people who love him, like Helena, who attempts to accommodate her husband’s dogged insistence that The Queen will be coming to tea.

Despite her voiced claims that Maurice is perfectly healthy, it’s clear that she is only too aware that their time together is short. That doesn’t stop her snapping, and voicing her exasperation at every turn, however, giving a little steel to a story that largely has the same fluffiness (and indeed, set design) of many a post-war drawing room play.

Performed on Tuesday 26 February 2013 at Theatre Royal in Brighton.

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