Sometimes I feel as though I’m starring in my own romcom, complete with fairy-tale castle and royal history. People are amazed when I tell them I live at the Tower of London, and that my soldier boyfriend works there – and they assume it’s where we met. But I actually met George on Tinder.
It was such an amazing coincidence. When he told me he was based at the Tower of London, I was like, “I don’t believe it! Guess where my dad lives?” That’s right. The Tower of London. And now I live there, too.
George is a King’s Guard, while my dad, Chris, is a Beefeater – a Yeoman Warder. Luckily, he’d said of George before he knew we were dating, “That’s what a guardsman should look like.”
George was wearing a kilt in his Tinder photo, which is a big green flag for me, so I messaged first after we’d both swiped right in 2018. Almost instantly we began speaking to each other on the phone for hours. Not particularly romantic, perhaps, but it’s our story and we love it.
At the time, I was living in university halls in London while studying English and film. I wanted to be independent, having moved from a small village in the Lancashire countryside, but I spent a lot of my free time hanging out at my dad’s house. He lives in a castle, so why wouldn’t I?
In the summer of 2020, I permanently moved in with him after feeling lonely in the first lockdown. I also wanted to save money on rent.
Now, when I tell people about me and George at the Tower, they assume we steal glances and mouth flirtatious comments at each other while he’s standing guard. But on guard duty, he isn’t allowed to move a muscle or look at me.
There was one day recently when I didn’t bother popping across to say goodbye before leaving the grounds because it would be too awkward for us both. I was dragging my suitcase along the cobbles, which I find just as annoying as the day I moved in three years ago. But I sent a text, “I love you, and I’ll see you when I get back from my mum’s.”
Suddenly, in the distance, I saw a man in uniform running towards me. It was George. He was on a break and had seen me from one of the Tower windows. “I couldn’t not say goodbye,” he told me, planting a kiss on my lips and giving me a huge hug.
It’d be lovely if the early days of our relationship were as romantic as this, but that’s really not the case.
I’d often take a bag of laundry with me when I was visiting my dad. One day I was putting my clothes out to dry in the garden behind the house when a minibus filled with guardsmen pulled up. It was George and his fellow guards, who at this point didn’t know we were dating. He later told me they joked about the girl displaying all her underwear on a washing line for the world to see.
Now I live here, it’s pretty obvious I’m not a tourist. When I’m walking my dog along the moat or carrying groceries through the crowds of visitors I end up talking to so many people. Young girls sweetly ask me if I’m a princess and adults often wonder if I’m a royal, saying, “Are you someone I should know about?”
The answer is no. I’m a normal girl with a slightly abnormal living arrangement. My home isn’t a damp dungeon, it’s just your average three-bedroom house across four floors. The only difference is it’s set along a castle’s outer wall and has far too many stairs – along with arrow slits instead of windows. It’s also quite narrow, but despite being built in the 13th century it’s surprisingly modern-looking.
There’s no chance of ever forgetting where you are, though, as my dad has filled our home with Beefeater memorabilia, from paintings to swords on the staircase.
Dad served in the military for more than 22 years, meaning he was eligible to become a Beefeater and live at the Tower of London. It’s just the two of us here, as his wife works in Bath. Well, maybe three – I’m pretty certain we have a ghost dog living with us. Sometimes my dog Ethel’s toys start squeaking and rolling around the rooms when she’s nowhere to be seen. I don’t mind. If I have
to be haunted by a ghost then I’m glad it’s a pet.
There’s so much gory history related to this place. I get shivers when I’m walking into my home late at night. It’s an amazing place, but the Tower of London was once a prison, so it can feel like the walls are closing in, which can have an effect on your mental health.
I can feel a real sense of loneliness, but I’m lucky to have my dad around to combat that.
Ceremony of the keys
It’s the perfect living arrangement as we both like to be around people but enjoy our own space – we know when to leave each other alone. My dad appreciates me being here. Not only has it strengthened my bond with him, but I’ve become very close to all his friends.
We have a pub called The Keys in the grounds – you can only visit if you live here, or if you’ve been invited by someone who does. I’ll often be sat with all these older Beefeaters, having a few drinks and a lot of laughs. We’re one close-knit family, which means there are no secrets among us.
The first time I showed my boyfriend around my dad’s home, he received a flurry of texts from his Beefeater colleagues letting him know I had company. Like most gossip, the story became exaggerated and the rumour was that I was entertaining a whole regiment inside the house – quite impossible. The houses are too tiny. Luckily, I’d already told him that George was popping round.
Now, they all know George. They give him career advice, and occasionally tease him about how far he has to go to reach their ranking. They can be quite critical, as they are about the highest you can go in army rankings, so they’re the first to spot when the guards are being too fidgety at their posts.
Gossiping isn’t the only thing I’ve had to get used to. Between 9.30pm and 10pm they have the “ceremony of the keys”. It’s taken place every single night for 700 years, and has only been delayed once, by seven minutes, when the Tower was bombed during the Blitz in 1940. During those 30 minutes nobody is allowed to arrive or leave. I learnt the hard way how strict the rule is when my takeaway arrival clashed with the ritual.
You’re also not allowed to leave or arrive back at the Tower after midnight without getting permission first. That can be tricky if I’m out and don’t notice the time, but luckily my dad will go and sign a document that allows my lateness – and I’m not a big party person.
I regularly post about my life at the Tower on social media and have over 300,000 followers on TikTok fascinated by my videos. I’ve also written a fictional love story set at the Tower.
Lively presence
We all know the gruesome history of the Tower, such as Anne Boleyn’s beheading and Traitors’ Gate, where prisoners of the Tudors were admitted. But what is less known is what a vibrant place it is now.
I wanted to celebrate the Beefeaters that live in this kind and welcoming “village” – my lovely dad, who’ll stay up late helping me formulate the perfect sentence for my debut novel, the single mother raising a son and dating, the children who live here – and me, of course.
The Tower is an important part of British history, but it’s also got a lively presence. The novelty of it hasn’t worn off. Recently I thought, “I can’t believe I’m eating crisps in my pyjamas in the Tower of London.”
I’ll always be grateful for the years I’ve lived here, and you never know, maybe George and I will set up our home here, too, one day.
Falling Hard For The Royal Guard by Megan Clawson (HarperCollins, £8.99) is out on Thursday
