Part 18 (2/2)

As Duke of York, Andrew received a pay raise from the Civil List to $100,000 a year in addition to his annual naval salary of $20,000. He also received income from a $1 million trust fund his mother had set up for him. But Fergie kept her $35,000-a-year job as a publis.h.i.+ng a.s.sistant. The Queen paid for the $350,000 wedding and presented the bride with a diamond tiara, a diamond bracelet, and a diamond necklace. Her Majesty also gave the royal couple five acres of land and paid for the $7 million construction of Sunninghill Park, their forty-six-room mansion, which was five miles from Windsor Castle. ”I did it for Anne,” said the Queen. ”So of course I'll do it for Andrew.” The rambling ranch-style house that Sarah and Andrew designed for themselves had twelve bedrooms, plus a swimming pool, a bomb shelter, and a medieval minstrel's gallery. There were two master bedrooms and a master bath with musical toilet rolls that played ”G.o.d Save the Queen.” The circular tub set in the middle of a white marble floor was so big that the builders called it HMS Fergie. Fergie. Prince Philip said, ”It looks like a tart's boudoir.” The imposing residence was ridiculed as ”a fifty-room pizza palace” and called ”Southyork,” after the Southfork ranch in the 1980s television show Prince Philip said, ”It looks like a tart's boudoir.” The imposing residence was ridiculed as ”a fifty-room pizza palace” and called ”Southyork,” after the Southfork ranch in the 1980s television show Dallas. Dallas.

On the morning of the wedding, crowds began a.s.sembling early to watch the royal procession of coaches and celebrities. Major Ferguson marveled at the ma.s.ses of people, who were standing ten deep in some places along the streets. ”Just look at all these people,” he said, ”come to see my smelly little daughter.”

America's First Lady, Nancy Reagan, had been preceded into Westminster Abbey by twenty-two U.S. Secret Service agents. Cosmetics tyc.o.o.n Estee Lauder walked in behind movie star Michael Caine. Pop singer Elton John, in purple gla.s.ses and a ponytail, waved to the crowds, as did Prince Albert of Monaco. Minutes later Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher arrived, but she was booed for having sent in mounted police to settle a miners' strike.

The crowds erupted and cheered loudly when they saw the t.i.tian-haired bride, looking slim and lovely in her Victorian ivory gown. Royal trumpeters heralded her arrival as she stepped out of the gla.s.s coach. Trailed by 17 feet of flowing satin beaded with anchors and the initial A, A, she proceeded up the steps of the Abbey. She halted at the top, unable to move. She turned around and yanked at her gown. she proceeded up the steps of the Abbey. She halted at the top, unable to move. She turned around and yanked at her gown.

”Who the h.e.l.l is standing on my train?” she yelled. The wedding dress designer dropped to her knees and quickly rearranged the folds of the gown. The bride then moved forward and grabbed her father's arm.

”C'mon, Dads,” she said, ”let's show 'em how it's done.”

Major Ferguson nervously began the long walk down the aisle of the eleventh-century Abbey with his daughter, who smiled nonstop. She made faces at one guest, gave a thumbs-up to another, and cracked jokes about the outlandish outfits she spotted among the 1,800 guests.

Major Ferguson was unnerved. ”When we reached the archway leading to the chancel with the Queen and Prince Andrew gazing down expectantly,” he recalled, ”I had to say, 'Come on. You've got to be serious now.' ”

Fergie tried to rein herself in, but the effort showed. At the altar, Prince Andrew stepped forward with his Falklands medals pinned to the breast of his naval lieutenant's uniform. ”You look wonderful,” he said.

”Thank you, darling,” she said, smiling. ”I forgot to pack my toothbrush.”

”Never mind,” said the beaming duke.

The Queen, who occasionally took deep breaths to control her emotions during the service, could not take her eyes off her son.

Princess Michael of Kent, who was married to the Queen's cousin, could not stop looking at the bride. ”All that ghastly winking as she came down the aisle,” she said. ”So common.”

The Princess of Wales seemed not to notice. Sitting with the royal family on pink-and-gold chairs, apart from the rest of the congregation, she looked sad and distracted, staring into s.p.a.ce. She brightened up only when she saw her son, William, one of the four little pages. Dressed in a sailor suit, the four-year-old Prince tugged on his cap, wound the string around his nose, chewed it like taffy, and then pulled out his ceremonial dagger to bedevil the six-year-old bridesmaid next to him.

Having brought Sarah and Andrew together, Diana had looked forward to having a friend as a sister-in-law and to sharing what she called ”the royal load.” But she was unprepared for sharing the spotlight. The sudden media attention directed at Fergie jolted Diana, who was accustomed to being the focus of press interest. She slipped into second place temporarily. She tried to make light of her reduced status by joking to reporters. ”You won't need me now,” she teased. ”You've got Fergie.”

Sarah and Andrew's royal wedding was characterized most amusingly by an Italian newspaper, Milan's Il Giorno Il Giorno: ”And so to conclude, if it is true, as Flaubert a.s.serted, that to be happy, it is necessary not to be too intelligent, to be a little bit arrogant, and above all, to have good health, then there is no doubt that the future of Andrew and Sarah will be among the best.” And it was. Sublime. For a time.

SIXTEEN.

The Prince of Wales was convinced that his wife was having an affair with her bodyguard. Barry Mannakee, a gregarious police sergeant, had been a.s.signed to protect the Princess in 1985 when the Waleses' marriage started falling apart. He accompanied her wherever she went, and as Charles spent more time away from his wife, she turned to her personal detective for company.

”He was like all the protection officers for royalty,”* said the former head of Scotland Yard, who received a t.i.tle when he retired. ”They are selected for sensitivity and diplomacy. They're highly skilled at security and armed at all times, but they must also blend into any circ.u.mstance. This requires a range of social skills-skiing, sailing, horseback riding, hunting, even carriage riding. The royalty protection boys have expensive haircuts and wear Turnbull and a.s.ser s.h.i.+rts. They're handsome, charming, and seductive.” said the former head of Scotland Yard, who received a t.i.tle when he retired. ”They are selected for sensitivity and diplomacy. They're highly skilled at security and armed at all times, but they must also blend into any circ.u.mstance. This requires a range of social skills-skiing, sailing, horseback riding, hunting, even carriage riding. The royalty protection boys have expensive haircuts and wear Turnbull and a.s.ser s.h.i.+rts. They're handsome, charming, and seductive.”

The thirty-nine-year-old protection officer for the Princess of Wales was a married man with two children, so he got along well with three-year-old Prince William. ”Barry was such a colorful and easygoing character,” recalled the Highgrove housekeeper. ”He was fun and everyone adored him. He was an ideal personal security officer for the Princess.... She hung on to his every word, flirted with him outrageously, and pulled his leg in a way that suggested the two of them were very close. There have been many rumors about them having an affair, but I am sure that is completely untrue. For Diana, Barry was simply a friend, someone she could rely on and trust.”

The Princess's detective escorted her on her endless rounds of shopping and took her for long drives through the hills of Balmoral when her husband went fis.h.i.+ng alone and she wanted to get away from the rest of the royal family. She turned to Mannakee when she was upset, which was often in those days, and he offered consolation and a strong shoulder to cry on. He comforted her when she became unstrung before public engagements.

”On one occasion, she kept saying she couldn't go ahead with it, and just collapsed into my arms,” said Mannakee. ”I hugged her and stopped her crying. What else would you have done?”

The policeman became the repository of Diana's secrets, including her suspicions about her husband and Camilla Parker Bowles. Diana told Mannakee she was convinced that despite Charles's promises to her before they married, he had gone back to his mistress. Diana said she confirmed her suspicions one weekend when she arrived at Highgrove and Charles was not there. His aide said he had left minutes before she arrived, roaring off by himself in his sports car. He did not say where he was going and didn't leave a number where he could be reached in case of emergency.

Diana went into his study and pushed the recall b.u.t.ton on his mobile phone, which rang the Parker Bowles estate. When the butler answered, she hung up. She checked Charles's private calendar and saw a ”C” marked on that date. She searched his desk drawers and told her bodyguard that she had found a cache of letters from Camilla. Some were chatty and some extremely intimate, addressed to ”My Beloved.”

After that, Mannakee felt even more protective toward the Princess, who tearfully asked him why her husband had turned away from her. ”He's a fool,” said Mannakee, shaking his head. ”A b.l.o.o.d.y fool.” Diana was touched by her detective's loyalty, and his working-cla.s.s London accent made her smile. He became her close friend, her confidant, even her fas.h.i.+on consultant. She turned to him the way a wife turns to a husband, looking for approval. Servants recall many occasions when the Princess dressed for a public engagement and came out of her room to ask her bodyguard for his opinion.

”Barry, how do I look? Do you think these are the right earrings?”

”Perfect,” he said. She twirled in front of him, smoothed down her evening dress, and applied more lip gloss.

”Are you sure?” she asked, looking in the mirror. ”Do I look all right?”

”Sensational, as you know you do,” he said with a laugh. ”I could quite fancy you myself.”

”But you do already, don't you?” she said flirtatiously.

Their easy banter disturbed Charles, who lived by a double standard: he confided in his gardener at Highgrove about the woeful state of his marriage, but he could not stand Diana confiding in her bodyguard. Charles accused her of lacking decorum and said her behavior with the staff was deplorable.

He was embarra.s.sed that their marital fights, which had gone on behind closed doors, were now being waged in front of the servants. He blamed Diana for the open warfare because she had started to talk back. In the beginning of their marriage, she had been too insecure to speak up. But she gradually overcame her shrinking deference, and as her confidence grew with her popularity, she was no longer willing to defer.

Usually restrained in public, the Princess let loose in private. She railed about her husband's ”toadying” friends, his preoccupation with polo, his dinner parties with ”boring old men who smell of cigars,” and his solitary trips to fish and paint and ski. She said his excursions were simply excuses to get away from her.

The Prince responded that he needed the trips to restore his peace of mind after enduring her neurotic behavior. He taunted her about her eating disorder, which caused fainting spells in public. ”You're always sick,” Charles said with disgust. ”Why can't you be more like Fergie?” During meals, he chided her. ”Is that going to reappear later? What a waste.”

Diana struck back by accusing him of being selfish and stingy, and he yelled at her for being extravagant. ”The meaner he got, the more she would spend,” said interior designer Nicholas Haslam, a close friend of the royal family. ”That meanness of his drove her crazy... but the royals love to play at being poor. Camilla is the same way; she can't abide spending money, and Charles adores that quality in her. They turn each other on with their stinginess. When Camilla comes in bristling about how much the cleaner costs, Charles becomes aroused and leaps in to exclaim about how much he had to pay for the same thing. Back and forth they go, banging on about the cost of having their clothes commercially cleaned. The two of them nearly expire with exasperation about having to spend their money on such a necessity....”

The Princess carped that his penny-pinching deprived her of a tennis court at Highgrove.

”You know it's the only thing I have ever wanted here,” she told him.

Charles said he could not afford the $20,000 to build a tennis court.

”You cannot be serious,” Diana shouted. ”What about the thousands you pour into your precious b.l.o.o.d.y garden and anything else which takes your fancy? I don't think you realize quite the efforts I make to go along with what you want to do all the time. What about my wants?”

He shrugged and walked out of the room. Diana yelled at him through the closed door. That evening she did not show up for dinner. While he sat in the dining room waiting for her, she ate alone in the nursery, where she said she did not have to beg for love.

During their most heated arguments, they flung curses and objects. After one blistering row, Charles stormed out the door, jumped into his car, and roared out of Highgrove. Diana opened an upstairs window and screamed at the top of her lungs, ”You're a s.h.i.+t, Charles, an absolute s.h.i.+t!” During another quarrel, she threw a teapot at him, stomped out of the room, and slammed the door, nearly knocking over a footman. She yelled over her shoulder, ”You're a f.u.c.king animal, Charles, and I hate you!”

Soon Nigel Dempster, the Daily Mail Daily Mail gossip columnist, who said he socialized with royalty, denounced Diana in print. He called her a spoiled, fiendish monster who was making the Prince of Wales ”desperately unhappy.” gossip columnist, who said he socialized with royalty, denounced Diana in print. He called her a spoiled, fiendish monster who was making the Prince of Wales ”desperately unhappy.”

Her growing distrust of Charles and her jealousy over Camilla Parker Bowles marked Diana-in her husband's eyes-as irrational. Charles expected to do as he pleased-without objection from his wife. Her tearful outbursts about his long absences only convinced him of her instability. Worse, he was bored with her. He dismissed her interests-clothes, dancing, rock and roll-as trivial. He said her hospital visits were self-serving, and her humor, which he once found so delightful, grated on him.

A university graduate with intellectual pretensions, Charles was embarra.s.sed to be married to a high school dropout who he said did not know the difference between Sakharov and Solzhenitsyn. During the taping of a television interview at Highgrove in 1986, she poked fun at herself for failing the college entrance exams. ”Brain the size of a pea I've got,” she chirped. Charles insisted her comment be edited out. Diana said he should have edited out his own comment about talking to the plants in his garden at Highgrove. ”It's very important to talk to them,” he had told viewers. She had told him, ”People will think you're barking [mad].” That was the last television interview the couple did together.

But Diana was right. Charles's remark made him look slightly eccentric, if not ridiculous. ”He's really not the nut-chomping loony you read about in the papers,” insisted his brother Andrew.

”Charles sometimes complained to friends about what he considered Diana's coa.r.s.e, even vulgar, sense of humor,” reported journalist Nicholas Davies. ”Once the couple were lunching with Charles's old friend, the South African philosopher Sir Laurens Van der Post. The two men were enjoying a weighty conversation about the problem of blacks and whites living together in South Africa when Diana suddenly put in, 'What's the definition of ma.s.s confusion?' ”

The two men looked perplexed.

”Father's Day in Brixton [a predominantly black area of London],” Diana told them merrily.

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