The first time I met the Duke of Edinburgh he said: “Oh, yes, I think I’ve seen you singing at the rugby.”

Then, as I smiled nervously, he added: “How are your vocal cords?”

“Oh, fine, thank you,” I said breathlessly.

“No boils or warts on them yet?”

I was absolutely horrified and said: “I hope not.”

“Jolly good,” the Duke said, sauntering away.

The first time I went to Buckingham Palace was on St David’s Day.

When I arrived, my eyes as big as saucers, I was directed to the cloakrooms and told: “When you are ready, please come back upstairs and we will tell you where to go.” [...]

Suddenly aware that time was passing, I went back upstairs. “I’m Katherine Jenkins,” I said to the nearest official. His eyebrows shot up.

“We are going to have to rush,” he said, a note of panic in his voice.

“You are the last to arrive and the Queen is literally about to walk into the room.”

Somewhat flushed and out of breath, I joined everybody else in the line-up just in time. I was next to the opera singer Bryn Terfel.

When the Queen entered, I heard her ask him: “Did you enjoy the opening of the New Millennium Centre in Wales?”

“Very much, Ma’am,” Bryn replied. “Did you?”

“I thought it was lovely,” the Queen answered, “but it did go on a bit. My train was waiting for me for over an hour.”

I have become involved with the Duke of Edinburgh Awards and, on their 50th anniversary, I was invited to lunch with the Queen and the Duke.

The eight guests were getting to know each other when the corgis came padding into the room. I love dogs, so I just fell on to the floor and was playing and rolling around with them when the Queen walked in, giving me a close-up view of her feet.

“Oh, my God!” I said, scrambling up, covered in confusion. She just smiled gently and said: “Hello Katherine, how are you?”

“Very excited to be here,” I burbled, “and I love your dogs.”

“Are they pure bred?” the lady next to me asked.

“Well, actually, no,” the Queen said.

“They’re a cross between a corgi and dachshund. I call them the Dawgis.”

When we had finished the three courses of lunch, a plate with some gauze on top of it and a glass bowl full of water were placed in front of me. I was so embarrassed: I hadn’t a clue what they were for.

A waiter came round with a choice of grapes or peaches, so I chose a peach and just sat there holding it.

The Queen had sensed my panic. With an expression in her eyes that said, “Watch me”, she very discreetly showed me what to do: wash the fruit in the bowl, then dry it with the gauze. Bless her.

As I gratefully copied her, I couldn’t help thinking, surely the fruit has already been washed?

I met the Duchess of Cornwall at the 2007 Classical Brit Awards. She was absolutely delightful and asked me if I spoke Welsh, which I do.

“My husband speaks a little Welsh,” she added, obviously proud of Charles, “and I’m always very impressed when he sings the Welsh national anthem in Welsh. I’d love to learn the words of that.”

“Well,” I said, “if you ever need some lessons I will gladly teach you.”