Meg gives Jacinda an egg

Oh, you’re there? Oh yes, I can see you! Hi, PM! We finally got broadband here at Frogmore. I said to Harry: ‘‘Nobody fancies pigeons any more. I need Instagram, Snapchat and Tik-Tok. I need my reiki master on FaceTime so he can stare in my third eye.’’ So Harry tells the staff: ‘‘What Meghan wants, Meghan gets,’’ and they went weirdly quiet. But that night, while I was sleeping, somebody came and laid a big cable right here in my yoga studio. I can’t tell you how surprising it was.

This is so cute, you interviewing me for Your Weekend right after we did you for Vogue! I told Edward, Vogue’s editor: ‘‘Oh my gosh, I can’t be on the cover. It would be so boastful.’’ I waited for him to tweet that. Once it went viral, I said: ‘‘No, what I want is ultimate control. I’ll decide every layout and write every article and pick 15 of the world’s most conventionally attractive changemakers for the cover.’’

The beauty of this is the appearance of generosity. The point isn’t whether anything changes, but being seen to care about change. I’m pretty sure you get where I’m coming from, because I believe you and I are literally on the same page. Except in the September issue. Anyway, Edward gets it. He’s a magazine editor of colour finally giving famous black people the chance to appear as boring, materialistic and self-involved as famous white people.

I love that, thanks to me and Vogue, there might be a Sudanese model throwing up in a toilet right now between shoots, while a Swedish model in the next cubicle does the exact same thing. This is all I’m trying

to tell people, that it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

Do you mind me calling you PM? My security detail told me I should give everyone code names when I’m FaceTiming. Oprah is the Big O, my father-in-law is Wingnut and William’s the Bald Beagle. I tried to come up with something for Kate, but she doesn’t really have a brand, you know? She’s kind of just a blank.

Anyway, if you need to reach out to me, I’m Meg-O-La-Maniac.

OK, My Favourite Thing. Let me Salute the Sun while we’re doing this. Yoga helps me to stay grounded, even when life gets crazy. Every time Piers Morgan says mean things about me in the press, I do a Downward-Facing Dog followed by a Fat Cat’s Ass.

Did you get the gift I sent you? It’s an ethical diamond cut into an egg, with Force For Change engraved on it. I added a silver chain to make it practical. I have one to match and it’s truly my favourite thing right now. I hang everything important on it: the keys to my Bentley, my Jag and my Swiss safe deposit box. I guess you could say that at times, I hang off it, too!

That’s because it’s a yoni egg. I modelled it on Gwyneth’s, over at Goop. Everyone went nuts at her, but only because placing one inside your vagina is a change-maker. Women aren’t supposed to want the impossible. By slipping an egg in your cooch you’re telling the world: You know, I’m tired of being a mammal. I want a shot at being a bird.

I mentioned it over dinner at Clarence House, and Wingnut got pretty mad. ‘‘The whole idea is unspeakable,’’ he said, and pushed away his steamed clams.

I replied: ‘‘Actually, Your Highness, the vagina is considered sacred in many countries.’’ Then I sucked back the last oyster, and Camilla fainted.

Oh, so my people worked on your reelection message. Don’t thank me, it’s my thing. 2017 was Let’s Do This. 2018 was This Turned Out to be Quite Hard. 2019 was The Year of Delivery. So, in 2020, we rebrand New Zealand as Deliverance Country.

You’re in a boat without a paddle on the billboards, looking kind of wild. Edward tells me the survivalist look is very next season. I love this campaign. It’s snappy, it’s new, you could write it on a banana.

When Bald Beagle heard about Vogue , he wasn’t exactly supportive. He came marching over here, steam coming off his pink head. I was in the middle of my yoga routine when he barged in, yelling about the cover. I hate to cause a rift, but he mentioned you.

I assumed Xena the Warrior Pose and said: ‘‘Of course I picked her. She’s an international icon for interfaith acceptance with good hair and American teeth.’’ Then I Opened the Lotus Flower before Seeking A Higher Plane.

He said: ‘‘I don’t bloody care if she’s the second coming of Christ, she’s fundamentally antimonarchist and wants Granny off the throne.’’ I did The Coiled Cobra and he shouted: ‘‘And you can stick your Force for Change where the sun doesn’t shine!’’

At that point I Flipped the Bird. ‘‘Believe me,’’ I told him,

‘‘it’s already there.’’