Children always suffer in a divorce

HOW sad to hear of the demise of broadcaster Davina McCall’s 17-year marriage to Matthew Robertson. Whatever the whys and wherefores, there’s nothing sadder than a newly broken family just a few short weeks before Christmas.

In their separate ways Davina and Matthew will be grieving, raging, mourning and lamenting – not a great look alongside turkey, chipolatas and tidings of comfort and joy. My thoughts, however, are not with the adults in this sombre scenario but with the children: Holly, 16, Tilly 14 and Chester, 11.

I know only too well how it feels for your divorce to be front page news. Seventeen years ago when Davina and Matthew were tying the knot, my then husband left me for a woman who turned out to be one of a brace of passing fancies.

At the time the Vanessa TV talk show saw me dubbed “Britain’s answer to Oprah” and the collapse of my marriage was deemed news and plastered all over the media.

My anguish was earth-shattering. I had thought we were happily married and had not a suspicion in the world that anything was awry. Of course my utter shock, coupled with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what it would be like to experience a divorce in the full glare of intense publicity meant I was in no position to prepare my two daughters – then aged 10 and 13 – for what was to come.

ICOULDN’T warn them about the paparazzi hidden in our rhododendron bushes leaping out at them, flashbulbs popping, as they were dropped off after school. I had no idea that one of our most prominent DJs would be loudly discussing the split on the radio which blared out aboard my older daughter’s school coach, or that the children jabbering around her would be debating the news like the juiciest morsel of trivial gossip.

I didn’t realise we’d be followed by reporters as we went to the supermarket, waylaid outside a synagogue on the way to a bar mitzvah or that virtual strangers would sell invented stories purporting to know the so-called “secrets” of my shattered I WAS none too keen on last week’s revelation that grandparents are a health hazard to their grandbabies. Apparently we over-feed and under-exercise our descendants leaving them chubbier and more sluggish than they would be under their parents’ care.

I object to such foul calumny marriage. Imagine two children old enough to understand what’s going on, but too young to get in a car and drive away, forced to digest and endure the sorrow of their parent’s divorce while knowing the nation is devouring the details over its breakfast cereal. and suggest that by reading to, chatting to, cooking with, gardening with and playing endless games with our progeny’s progeny we contribute vastly to their mental equilibrium.

True, we may be a little too liberal with the chocolate buttons, and yes, I did once Frankly, even writing these words causes me inexpressible pain – and my children didn’t have to deal with an onslaught on social media.

Having walked uncomfortably in their shoes, I would urge Davina and Matthew to warn their children about what might be to come, to omit to notice that the car seat hadn’t been secured properly, but overall I’m certain we’re a boon not a bane.

This week’s news is much more accurate. Our grandchildren should be inoculated against flu so they don’t seriously damage OUR health. At this moment I am growling

A HEARTY mazeltov to Prince Harry and the gutsy, glitzy and gorgeous Meghan Markle! This feisty, fun-loving couple have every chance of living happily ever after. Harry’s choice of partner breaks the conventional mould in the most spectacular and innovative way.

Meghan is the very opposite of a Home Counties virgin. She’s a worldly career woman with a broken marriage behind her, a track record for championing humanitarian causes and a glamorous sense of style.

Above all, like Prince Harry, Meghan seems to relish life’s opportunities and to have an instinctive flair for charming everyone she encounters. The Queen and Prince Philip are “delighted for the couple”. Meghan’s parents have expressed their approval with considerable grace.

I feel a full-throttled international celebration coming on and not the minutest doubt that Meghan will prove to be a breath of fresh air, a force for good and a pleasure to behold. The very best of British luck to them both. surround them with a warm and supportive circle to insulate them against the tittle-tattle and hurt and to engage the services of qualified counsellors in case Holly, Tilly and Chester are too concerned about their parents’ feelings to be able to express their own.

FLU’S A SMALL PRICE TO PAY FOR MY GRANDBABIES’ CUDDLES AND KISSES

two octaves lower than normal, not to mention coughing for Britain. The dreaded lurgy was definitely passed on by one or both my grandchildren.

Guess what though: a minor bronchial infection is worth enduring for the kisses and cuddless that are harbingers of germs but also sheer joy.