I was appalled. She had asked Lord John Somerset to ask me to join her, and I rose rather unsteadily to do so. This was during a Jimmy Goldsmith ball, and I was writing the Atticus column in the Sunday Times, as well as High life. A German girlfriend of mine at the time warned me about going over. ‘If you go to her, that’s it,’ she told me. ‘Auf Wiedersehen,’ I answered. The princess signalled for me to sit, and that’s where the appalling part comes in. I missed the chair and ended up under the table. Without missing a beat, she stuck her head underneath and asked me: ‘Do you really think I’m crazy?’ ‘All I know is that I’m nuts about you,’ said I.
That’s how my friendship with Princess Di began, and I think this is the last time I will write about her (it seems that everyone else has, so I might as well put in my two cents).
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