He got her cupcakes for independence day? Isn't that 4th of July? In the middle of summer? Why is it written like summer is a few months away?Second date with Meghan
This time I was already there—waiting. Smiling. Proud of myself. She walked in, wearing a pretty blue sundress with white pinstripes. She was aglow. I stood and said: I bear gifts. A pink box. I held it forward. She shook it. What’s this? No, no, don’t shake it! We both laughed. She opened the box. Cupcakes. Red, white and blue cupcakes, to be exact. In honor of Independence Day. I said something about the Brits having a very different view of Independence Day from the Yanks, but, oh, well. She said they looked amazing. Our waitress from Date One appeared. Mischa. She seemed genuinely happy to see us, to discover that there was a Date Two. She could tell what was happening, she got that she was an eyewitness, that she’d forever be part of our personal mythology. After bringing us a round of drinks she went away and didn’t return for a long time. When she did, we were deep in the middle of a kiss. Not our first.
Meghan, holding my shirt collar, was pulling me towards her, holding me close. When she saw Mischa she released me immediately and we all laughed. Excuse us. No problem. Another round? Again the conversation flowed, crackled. Burgers came and went, uneaten. I felt an overwhelming sense of Overture, Prelude, Kettle Drums, Act I. And yet also a sense of ending. A phase of my life—the first half?—was coming to a close. As the night neared its end we had a very frank discussion. There was no way round it. She put a hand to her cheek and said: What’re we gonna doooo? We have to give this a proper go. What does that even mean? I live in Canada. I’m going back tomorrow! We’ll meet. A long visit. This summer. My summer’s already planned. Mine too. Surely in the whole summer we could find one small spot of time. She shook her head. She was doing the full Eat Pray Love. Eat what now? The book? Ah. Sorry. Not really big on books. I felt intimidated. She was so the opposite of me. She read. She was cultured. Not important, she said with a laugh. The point was, she was going with three girlfriends to Spain, and then with two girlfriends to Italy, and then— She looked at her calendar. I looked at mine. She raised her eyes, smiled. What is it? Tell me. Actually, there’s one small window… Recently, she explained, a castmate had advised her not to be so structured about her summer of eating, praying and loving. Keep one week open, this castmate said, leave room for magic, so she’d been saying no to all kinds of things, reserving one week, even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France… I looked at my calendar and said: I have one week open as well. What if they’re the same week? What if? Is it possible? How crazy would that be? It was the same week.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
No- luckily, we've never seen it or any of the other shit she may have been inAm I the only person in the world who'd never heard of suits or watched it. I think I'm going to drown in my own vomit reading this
The lawyer lady is so two-faced ... when the Oprah interviewed aired people like her screamed racism ... now it's all 'context'. Oh do fuck off. I'll give shouty Shola some credit, at least she's still sticking to her guns and calling it racist, at least the old bag is consistent.Yes. Piers has finally addressed the fact that H talks disrespectfully about almost every single woman in his book other than M or L. I’m so glad this has been raised
I’d always told myself that there were firm rules about relationships, at least when it came to royalty, and the main one was that you absolutely must date a woman for three years before taking the plunge. How else could you know about her? How else could she know about you—and your royal life? How else could both of you be sure that this was what you wanted, that it was a thing you could endure together? It wasn’t for everybody. But Meg seemed the shining exception to this rule. All rules. I knew her straightaway, and she knew me. The true me. Might seem rash, I thought, might seem illogical, but it’s true: For the first time, in fact, I felt myself to be living in truth.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
I won't give the race-baiting cunt any credit whatsoever.The lawyer lady is so two-faced ... when the Oprah interviewed aired people like her screamed racism ... now it's all 'context'. Oh do fuck off. I'll give shouty Shola some credit, at least she's still sticking to her guns and calling it racist, at least the old bag is consistent.
Gullible twat isn't he?I felt pretty sure she hadn’t googled me, because she was always asking questions. She seemed to know almost nothing—so refreshing. It showed that she wasn’t impressed by royalty, which I thought the first step to surviving it. More, since she hadn’t done a deep dive into the literature, the public record, her head wasn’t filled with disinformation.
After Willy and I had laid flowers at Mummy’s grave, we drove together back to London. I phoned Meg, told her I was on my way. I tried to keep my voice nonchalant, not wanting to give myself away to Willy.
There’s a secret way into the hotel, she said. Then a freight lift.
All went according to plan. After I’d met the friend and navigated a sort of maze through the bowels of Soho House, I finally reached Meg’s door. I knocked and suspended breathing while I waited. The door flew open. That smile. Her hair was partly covering her eyes. Her arms were reaching for me. She pulled me inside and thanked her friend in one fluid motion, then slammed the door quickly before anyone saw. I want to say we hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. But I don’t think there was time.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
Wouldn’t it be amazing if one of the many ‘paps’ they say terrorise them had caught her melodrama if this blind was observed!the real TW ...
Can't waitGullible twat isn't he?
When it all comes crashing down and she ditches him or releases his throuple sex tape...karma's a bitch.
I always enjoy your posts. Spot on!! Explains why they didn’t go for a pre-Xmas release dateThe sheer awfulness of the excerpts completely neutralises his attacks on his family. It shows what deranged behaviour they and the staff had to put up with behind the scenes. The best part is that it being a bestseller and fastest selling non-fiction book getting picked up as a win by desperate supporters misses the point that it is only selling because of how cringe the leaks have been that people are wanting to read it all the more.
The only end of writing is to enable readers better to enjoy life or better to endure it as Samuel Johnson said. Spare accomolishes both. It being released during the most depressing month of the year was a masterstroke by Penguin. It has given us all a fantastic laugh at the expense of a celebrated bell to see out the month of January.
Control of the narrative. Yes.Piers is spot on. H claims to hate the press but he's happy to give them his story. He doesn't hate the press he wants to control the press
I wonder will our Mischa ever come out and tell their ‘love story’ through her eyes? We would all love to read that…..bloody hell!!!!that lucky waitress being foever part of their personal mthology
She'd turn down a week with Prince Harry?! Fuckin' ell. She'd take Ashley Cole up the shitter on a kiss and tell if there was money to be made.
Oh Harry. Take it your brains are in your dick... The frozen bit
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?