Who would be in the Queen’s favourite black patent shoes?
A pucklie years ago – when I was a run-ragged working wife and mum – I so envied Her Maj; servants galore, loadsadosh, life of Riley. Today, I feel heart-sorry for her. In her 90s, when she should have been winding down from public duties and enjoying her continuing physical and mental health, she’s plunged into a series of Windsor nightmares – from Andrew’s paedophile connections to the current Harry/Meghan ordeal by TV.
When the rest of us face inevitable family crises, we have blessed privacy. Hers are played out in the ghastly glare of the world stage. It falls to this old woman, whose husband is gravely ill, to make the final decisions on how to put a fractured family back together. To save for what she’s given her life.
Although firmly in Her Majesty’s camp during this week’s bombshell revelations, I’m now more sympathetic to Meghan, whom I’ve long taken to be a dangerous loose cannon. I’ve experienced mental illness in a dearly loved family member, so her claim she was refused help is a damning indictment of what goes on behind closed palace doors.
Yet I also detected a fleeting flash of anger on her face when she accused “The Institution” of stopping her baby from becoming a prince. I suspect she’d be no pushover when attempting to lead her own version of a royal life. As for the appalling accusations of racism – the Queen’s statement said they would be addressed privately. Big mistake, your Majesty. Your citizens want to, and need to, know the whole truth on such a crucial issue in this multiracial nation.
One, possibly minor, thing still strikes me as decidedly odd. I near cowked on my cocoa on Monday evening when Megs revealed they’d actually married three days before the huge wedding ceremony, because they wanted to take their vows in privacy.
Just her, Haz and the Archbishop of Canterbury in their “backyard”. Ooocha. Makes all the religion, pomp and circumstance in Windsor Chapel look a bit of a sham. But what’s this? You need two witnesses for a wedding to be legal. And the site has to be licensed. So three in the garden won’t go. Did Meghan misunderstand the rehearsal for reality? Or is she telling romantic porkies? And why?
My heart also goes out to Harry. He smiles on the outside but his eyes are dead. A bit like those of the Duke of Windsor exiled in his chateau. There’s a huge breach between the prince and his once-adored brother. He’s painfully estranged from his dad. His fury towards the press seems almost suffocating. So sad.
Finally, I found a lot to be desired from interviewer Oprah Winfrey, especially her failure to challenge Meghan over her haemorrhaging of aides.
All we got was Oprah saying the duchess had been described as a “hurricane”. Megs just laughed. And so did the so-called Queen of Confessions!
Any editor of mine would have sacked me on the spot for not probing further.
Ta-ta, Del Boy – So close but yet so far
So, ta-ta to Derek McInnes. Sla’er. When you arrived at Pittodrie, clean-shaven, you were a wee bit of a hunk. But once you grew that groovy beard, you were deffo a knacky-docky. Hopes were high. The new Fergie, who’d bring the Reds back to the honours they’d wanted for so long. But it wasn’t to be, Del Boy.
So close but yet so far. Maybe you just didn’t have the charisma of Alex Ferguson. That’s what Dons fans want in your replacement. But does anybody?
Piers was a breath of outspoken fresh air
Like him or loathe him, infuriating egotist Piers Morgan’s disappearance from Good Morning Britain has left me bereft.
I’m testament to how and why ratings went through the roof during his three weekdays in the main chair. Never watched before he arrived. Never watch Thursdays and Fridays. Now won’t watch at all. What a breath of outspoken, cranky fresh air he was compared to everyone else.
How on earth Susanna Reid still keeps her job defies me. Just a wee craiter noddin’ her heidie with zilch of the remotest interest to bring to the table. Awww, but she was bullied into silence by Piers.
Then they should have got a wifie (there’s plenty o’ them – even just sitting at home!) who could stand up to him.
And while they’re clearin’ oot the GMB stable, they could take just aboot everyone else with them.
Haven’t you had more than enough of happy-clappy, ever-smiley Lorraine Kelly, whose pit-on Scottish accent is thicker now than when she left Dundee decades ago?
And please could someone deliver us from the hysterically unfunny daily hysterics of nails-doon-the-blackboard Philip Schofield and hugely overexposed Holly Willoughby. Alison Hammond and Dermot (if only he’d a suit that fitted) could also ging oot wi’ the rubbish. As for Piers – 40,000 complaints to Ofcom about his reaction to the Meghan/Harry show. That’s why I want to watch him.
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