Day 31

5.02: But surely no one who plays the harp could be a criminal. Well, let the scales fall from your eyes: Yesterday, the Prince of Wales’s former harpist was convicted of handling stolen goods while addicted to heroin and crack cocaine.

The Daily Mail has gone for its typical restrained thoughtful approach, teaming up photographs of the mirror-sniffing string twangier Jemima Phillips, pure as the driven snow, and her former lover and partner in crime,  William Davis, looking like he could smash up a betting shop with just the power of his mind and a half decent telephone connection.

“What’s next,” the Mail appears to splutter, “Princess Anne happy slapped by a guardsman? Royal milkman punching corgis? Prince Phillip stages car crash to bump off former daughter-in-law and Muslim love…” ah.

Or not “ah.”

Anyway, whether or not the Duke of Edinburgh’s an ex-Nazi death-mongering predator, or just a foul-mouthed cross between a half-wit and a pair of trousers, the Royals are always surrounding themselves with criminals. You barely need to think back a month to get to the most tragical history of Jane Andrews, the former royal aide who bust out of jail where she was serving 12 years for bludgeoning and stabbing a man who (quite reasonably, I’d have thought) didn’t want to marry her.

Imagine the interview.

“And how would you go about dressing the Duchess of York?”
“I’d dress ‘er with a cosh, an’ a breadknife strapped to a broomstick.”

Classic royal fodder.

Much like Paul Kidd, the former royal butler, now serving burred for having sex with underage boys. Kidd, if The Times is to be believed, actually used the Queen Mother as a prop in his seduction routines. I might stop here before I say something really unpleasant.

6.55: Crikey, I got a bit carried away then, and let my coffee go cold. It’s always a bit disconcerting when that happens: the time flies by and I’m hammering away at the keyboard without really thinking, like some drug-addled mystic on a typewriting bender. I could be writing about anything. Now keying myself up to read back over Day 31’s labours and discover I’ve written in a subplot where Superted gives a dinner party but Michael Buerk ruins it by telling an unseemly anecdote over the scallops.

~ by David Thorley on December 7, 2009.

2 Responses to “Day 31”

  1. Hey, I just came across your blog. I have been looking for fellow bloggers who are blogging about novel writing and such. I am also writing a novel kind of through my blog, but not directly in fear of infringement. Anyway, enjoyed coming across yours and thought i’d leave you a comment.


    • Hi Amanda, It’s great to hear from you. I’d been hoping other people with similar things going on would get in touch. As you can see, mine’s on temporary holiday, while I try to get myself technially retooled. But hopefully I’ll be back in the game come the new year. Let me know how you get on with everything…

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