One thought one's own father was a problem.


I spent the morning in the garden talking to a potato. They're very good listeners, the humble spud. Plus they know their place. On the balance of things, I'd rather have a tuber than an Uber.


I said, "This business with Harry's father-in- law to be – it's a bit rum, isn't it. I mean, you know, for heaven's sake, what a way to behave."

The potato didn't say anything. It obviously wanted me to continue.

I said, "I think the word I'm looking for, and correct me if I'm wrong, is vulgar."

The potato held its tongue.

"I see you agree with me, then," I said. "I tried talking to Harry about it. But he doesn't listen. Neither does William. Or Camilla. Or mother. As for father…"

I started talking about the horrors of childhood, but the potato got up and ran away. Damnedest thing I've ever seen.


I came down to breakfast, and sat next to the Queen. I always enjoy my little chats with the ancient royal monarch, who is a wonderfully evolved human being, so very, very wise and understanding.


I said to her, "The thing people don't understand about my father is that he's got so many layers. He's actually multi-layered. So many layers, I've lost count. And all of these layers have been so important to me and have helped me grow into the person I am today."

"Bollocks," said the old dragon.


"Bollocks," I said to the silly girl, and drained my gin.


"Bollocks to the lot of you," I yelled.


'Now, now," I told the old man. "Not in front of the children."

He gave me a wolfish smile, and raised a thumbs-up. I don't know how much he understands but he seems happy to lie in the little bed that his nurse wheels from room to room, and sometimes outside for fresh air.

Meghan left the table and sat in a corner of the room. I went over to her. She was weeping, and eating from a box of chocolates.

"Have one," she sniffled.

"But they're all gone," I said.

"Oh that's just the top layer," she said. "There's more underneath."

"Oh yes," I said. "It's actually multi-layered."

She looked at me, and began to howl.


I found Harry out by the pool. It was a bright, sunny morning.

"The big day," I said, and smiled at him.

"Yes," he said.

The nurse wheeled grandfather along the other side of the pool. He turned his head on the pillow, and saw us.

"Bollocks to the lot of you," he yelled.

We waved at him as he went past.

A little while later we saw father walking towards the glasshouse. He seemed to be talking to something he held in his gardening gloves.

The sun started to feel warmer.

I said to Harry, "You know what?"


"It's going to be a great wedding."

"Yes," he said, and smiled. "I think you're right."