Stuart Wolfendale

It is not for this site to go wandering in the cow patted fields of gossip and slander over British royalty. That is the beat of the unusually rancid and resentful tabloid journalist. He went to a provincial grammar school, took against the upper middle classes at university and finds respect, let alone deference, as embarrassing as the Sermon on the Mount and standing up for a lady.However, I have certain insights into the end of the relationship between Prince William and Kate Middleton which he clearly does not. One contact of mine is a boyfriend of Prince William’s. See what I mean? He is a cadet officer –or ‘cornet’ as they are called - with William in the Blues and Royals. He is known to his fellows as ‘Ice Cream’.

Ice Cream tells me that the press is not entirely wrong about the royal family’s having objections to Miss Middleton. Of course they did not want another Diana, as the Queen is supposed to have said. Who does? On the other hand, they were not exactly sure if they wanted the daughter of an air hostess and a pilot (I do not know what the older royal mind understands by a ‘lay-over’) who had made a mint out of selling party accessories by mail (and I would be with the older royal mind in not knowing what those are, either). The mother is glossy and pushy and the self-made forthrightness of the father gives him ‘more front than Harrods’ as the saying goes.Apparently, it would not have mattered that Kate had taken a job as an assistant buyer for a dress shop. Normally an instant beheading of  aspirations to royalty, that could have been erased from the record leaving her move from St Andrew’s University to the position of princess-consort seamless, so to speak. The problem, according to Ice Cream, was that the raspberry ripple had gone out of the shag.  The prince, the future Defender of the Faith and Kate lived together at St. Andrew’s it is confidently reported. Anyone who has been to university, and in Blair’s Britain practically everyone even tabloid journalists have, will know that nothing kills off the prospect of love in a grown up world more certainly than having shacked up together as undergraduates.It’s a playtime with no working hours or appointments, filled with chums, fuelled by cheap cabernets or coke with hours off at a time for bonking. Nothing can follow that. It is called peaking early, which is what the king-to-be and the daughter of fresh money did. Then the prince moved out into his kingdom and the flashier sort of totty that hangs around the blues and Royals. “So William decided to move on from Middleton, not that turning down the Queen for Christmas in a fit of pique was exactly wise, the silly cow.” says Ice Cream. ‘And there’s so much fun to be had in this outfit!’ he said, jangling his cavalry sword and smacking his lipstick. 

Posted in All, Peculiars