Beheaded

I return to the village after a few days' absence to find another pub boarded up. I say "boarded up" but like the other pub in the village that went dry overnight, this one has perforated metal sheets nailed to window- and door-frame. Everything bears the signs of hasty departure: a pile of beer kegs in the yard, picnic tables stacked at the far end of the carpark. Hefty concrete blocks dumped inside the security fencing deter any ramraider or passing caravans. They boast the legend "BLOCK AID". Does anyone in this business have a gram of compassion?

It's one of the village's signature buildings: half-timbered with a jetty storey at head-bashing height. In fact, one corner has been bashed by something more substantial than a head, and has remained unrepaired since the tenant before last, along with various scabs of plaster, which have fallen off over the years. The Queen's Head sign looks rather better for her veil of green lichen.

So who is the queen? Anne Boleyn? Lady Jane Grey? Or Mary I? I waste time trying to find out. An entry in Wikipedia asserts (citation needed) that all pubs in the village are owned and run by drug dealers. I wouldn't know, I never go to village pubs.

Update
Of course, if I'd bothered to look up, I'd have seen that whoever secured the pub with its grilles and fencing had also taken a Kärcher to the sign and jetted off the accumulation of moss to reveal the necklace and the wobbly legend Lady Jane Grey.

Update 2 And on the other side of the sign is Mary I. The sign fixed to the gable end is of yet another queen. OH says it should be "Queens' Head" and there ensues an unseemly battle about grammar. I win, but the pub is still shut.