William and Harry (6 page)

He resented being part of what he knew was a sham, and there was more drama the following summer when the family went on a Mediterranean cruise with Charles’s friends Lord and Lady Romsey aboard the
Alexander
. When Diana discovered that Charles was telephoning Camilla she threatened to go home, and when they did eventually return to the UK after much upset, the situation worsened. On 24 August 1992 taped conversations of Diana speaking intimately to her friend James Gilbey found their way into the newspapers in an embarrassing episode dubbed ‘Squidgygate’ in the press.

Nevertheless the Queen was determined that Charles and Diana should give their marriage one final chance. Andrew and Sarah had separated in January after the Duchess of York was photo -graphed in a compromising situation with the Texan financier John Bryan, and in the sovereign’s eyes, enough embarrassment had been caused. Diana agreed to accompany Charles to Korea in November 1992, but their final official tour as husband and
wife was a disaster. They could hardly stand to be in one another’s company, and the newspapers focused on nothing else other than the state of their marriage. It was a disaster for the British monarchy, which was still recovering from the shock of Andrew Morton’s book about the princess, published that June.

Diana – Her True Story
had shaken the House of Windsor to its foundations and ensured the princess’s exclusion from the circle of the royal family for good. Across 174 pages the fairytale myth of Diana’s marriage to Charles was shattered, while the monarchy was portrayed as a cruel and outdated institution. ‘Friends’ revealed that Diana had suffered from bulimia ever since she and Charles were engaged and that she had tried to commit suicide five times during their marriage. For the first time Camilla Parker Bowles’s name emerged as the catalyst for the Waleses’ failed marriage. Charles read the pages of the
Sunday Times
, which serialised the book, with horror. Diana denied ever speaking to the author, but the truth was she had secretly collaborated on the explosive biography via her friend Dr James Coldhurst – she would never be forgiven for doing so.

The Queen, who would later refer to 1992 as her ‘
annus horribilis
’, was furious at the embarrassment and damage the book caused. That November Windsor Castle caught fire, adding to the Queen’s woes, and by Christmas she had given her per mission for Charles and Diana to separate. As ‘Defender of the Faith’, the Queen had been staunchly against separation – the ghost of Wallis Simpson, the American divorcee at the heart of King Edward’s abdication in 1936, still cast a cloud over the House of Windsor – but she recognised there was no alternative. The marriage was over and the situation was as dangerous as it was untenable.

On 9 December 1992 Prime Minister John Major announced the news in the House of Commons. William and Harry already knew. Diana had driven to see them several weeks earlier, and as her red Mercedes crunched up the gravel drive, they surely knew her visit was not good news. In the comfort of Mr Barber’s living room Diana sat William and Harry down and explained that she still loved Papa, but they couldn’t live under the same roof. Harry burst into tears but William put his bravest face on and told his mother, ‘I hope you will both be happier now.’ In the corridors of Buckingham Palace the news was also met with relief. ‘It didn’t come as any great shock. It was obvious that a separation was going to happen after Charles and Diana’s trip to Korea,’ recalled Dickie Arbiter.

Although the initial shock of their parents’ separation hit the boys hard, their lives changed very little. For several years they
had divided their weekends between Highgrove and London, and if anything their holidays were even more fun now that their parents had separated. Diana and Charles competed to give them the best vacations, and because they were not together, there were no more arguments. Diana treated the boys to magical holidays at Disney World in Florida and on the island of Nevis in the Caribbean, and twice they were guests on Sir Richard Branson’s private island of Necker; with their father, the boys whiled away long summers at Balmoral with their grandparents. In keeping with royal tradition, Christmases were spent at Sandringham, although Diana refused to go. ‘They’re always out killing things,’ she complained to her friends, but the boys were in their element and loved following the guns on the traditional Boxing Day shoot. They also had a new nanny, the thirty-year-old Tiggy Legge-Bourke, who Charles had employed to help look after them during their half-terms and holidays. Young, energetic and attractive, Tiggy, who had grown up in Wales and was a close friend of Charles, loved shooting, hunting and fishing, more than enough to secure the affection and trust of the young princes.

William had just finished unpacking his ottoman at Eton College and his room was beginning to look less like a cell and more like the home it would be for the next five years. Above his desk, the thirteen-year-old prince straightened the picture of Cindy Crawford which took pride of place on the wall. It was not so long ago that he had met the American supermodel when his mother invited her for tea at the palace. William had blushed with embarrassment but he still couldn’t decide who was more beautiful, Cindy or Claudia Schiffer, so he decided to hang them both above his study desk to brighten up his room.

As he sat down on his fold-up metal bed and looked around, he was pleased with the transformation. His mother and father had helped settle him in, and while Charles chatted with William’s housemaster Dr Andrew Gailey downstairs, Diana helped him put up a new set of curtains. Like his housemates, he been allowed to bring his own duvet and covers to make him feel at home, but this time he had chosen to leave his cuddly wombat behind. Like his mother he loved pop music, and he had also brought his CD player and video games to play once he had finished his
evening study period. He also kept a framed photograph of his parents by his bedside, which was the last thing he looked at before lights out at 9.30 p.m.

His uncle Earl Spencer, who had once been a pupil at the famous British boarding school tucked away in the shadow of Windsor Castle, had told William what to expect. The uniform was actually rather comfortable once you got used to it, and the trickiest thing was getting to grips with the timetable, which changed from week to week. On top of finding his way around the different buildings and departments dotted around the small town, which overlooks the River Thames, William also had centuries-old traditions to master and a new vocabulary to get used to. At Eton teachers are known as ‘beaks’, lessons are ‘divs’, food is ‘sock’ and William, like his other first-year housemates, was known as an ‘F-tit’. He was delighted to get into Manor House, his top choice. It is the elite of the school’s twenty-five houses and situated on a busy lane next to the library and opposite the chapel. The school, which dates back to 1440 when it was founded by King Henry VI, has produced eighteen British prime ministers and educated members of royal families the world over, so William was only the latest in a long list of illustrious names to arrive at the college. As his uncle had warned, there would be initiation rites to pass, and William’s title would not prevent him being picked on.

It could not have been easy for the prince when his parents dropped him off on 6 September 1995. While Ludgrove had been protected from the main road by acres of lush countryside, William’s new boarding house was so exposed he could see the bright green Windsor Hopalong sightseeing bus pass from his bedroom window. It was not uncommon for him to wake up and
find a gaggle of American tourists standing on the street pointing up at the building, trying to discern which bedroom was that of the future king. When he played sport, which he often did, William would have to ignore the crowds which gathered on the public road for a glimpse of him. Of course, the necessary security arrangements were in place, and William’s bedroom windows had been refitted with bulletproof glass ahead of his arrival. The turquoise lacquered door to his study was also reinforced, and should there be any problem his protection officers Trevor Bettles and Graham Cracker were just down the corridor.

Both Charles and Diana had been delighted when William passed his Common Entrance. No concessions were made for the royal applicant, who had had a further series of tests and exams to pass before he was granted a place at the prestigious school. Charles, who had been miserable at Gordonstoun, the boarding school in Scotland to which he (and subsequently his brothers Andrew and Edward) had been packed off when he was thirteen, was particularly pleased. While the Duke of Edinburgh had been keen for William to follow in his father’s footsteps, Charles and Diana were adamant that both William and later Harry would be educated at Eton.

They had momentarily forgotten their marriage woes that morning and posed as a family in front of the wooden gate that led up to Manor House’s imposing black door. Charles, his hand in his pocket, was on one side of William and Harry; Diana, resplendent in a cobalt-blue jacket, on the other. It had not been the low-key arrival William had hoped for. Dressed in a smart checked blazer, grey trousers and shiny black shoes, he managed a smile for the 300-strong press pack which flooded
onto the street and held up the traffic leaving Windsor. As they jostled on the pavement behind a police barrier it looked as though they were enjoying their very own version of Eton’s famous wall game. William was nervous, signed his name in the wrong place in the entrance book and had to be reminded by his father which religion he should enter.

Inevitably his arrival had sparked a flurry of gossip among pupils including rumours that a nuclear bunker had been built ahead of his arrival. ‘The morning that William arrived we were all a-buzz with the news that a bomb shelter had been built at Manor House,’ recalled a boarder. ‘Of course it was probably just a wild tale, but it was all very exciting and a lot more security was installed when William started. Every corner of the school, especially Manor House, was fitted with a CCTV camera.’ Eton did indeed have a nuclear shelter, but it was constructed beneath the college in 1959 to house the college’s provost and fellows and is now used for storage. At Manor House little fanfare was made about the royal arrival at William’s request. He was deeply embarrassed by the attention and wanted nothing more than to slip seamlessly into the background.

Sadly it was not to be the case. Despite the Press Complaints Commission warning that William was a private individual who should be left alone at school, he was rarely out of the newspapers. After his high-profile arrival at Eton, Sky Television aired two documentaries,
The Making of a King
and
Inside Eton
. William was mortified and begged his new schoolfriends not to watch the programmes. He had grown increasingly resentful of public interest in his life and the cameras that seemed to follow him everywhere. He also had to suffer the indignity of having
every aspect of his parents’ lives played out in the press. Within weeks of William enrolling at the school it was reported that his mother was having an affair with the married England rugby player Will Carling. Before long Diana was linked with another man, Oliver Hoare, a London-based art dealer.

Unlike at Ludgrove, where the Barbers had banned newspapers, Eton’s library was well stocked, and William was exposed to the front-page stories and cruel playground taunts that inevitably followed. Fortunately he had a small group of dependable allies to protect him. His father’s godson, Lord and Lady Romsey’s son Nicholas Knatchbull, promised the Prince of Wales he would keep an eye on William. Meanwhile, his cousin Freddie Windsor, who was just down the road in Aitkinson’s House, would often pop into see William. Dr Gailey, an amiable Irishman and a respected historian who loved music, was also to become a confidant. Appreciating that many of his charges were away from home for the first time, the door that linked his own house to the pupils’ living quarters was always open. The boys would all breakfast and take lunch and dinner in the wooden-floored dining room which smelt of furniture polish, and William was often invited to sit with Dr Gailey at the head table, which looked onto the well-manicured lawn and colourful flower beds.

Having always had his clothes laundered and ironed for him at home, William had to get used to getting himself ready in the mornings. He was required to wear a pressed uniform including a tailed morning coat, a waistcoat and white shirt. Fortunately he struck up a warm rapport with Elizabeth Heathcote, matron of the house, who taught him how to iron his shirts. He also had his own personal tutor, Christopher Stuart-Clark, who
spent two hours a week with the prince and made sure he was keeping up in class. It took William several months before he could confidently navigate the school and its maze of corridors, but he managed to cope academically. He was also popular with his peers, according to one of his housemates. ‘At first he alienated himself by spending time with some of the older boys who were his protectors, but William did come out of his shell and he definitely had a presence at Eton. When you got to know him he was a great guy and utterly normal. He wasn’t at all arrogant and he was an outstanding sportsman. One person you always wanted batting for your team was William Wales.’