PRINCE ANDREW? GOODBYE AND GOOD RIDDANCE

WHILE I was still doing PR for Amstrad I got a call from the marketing director Malcolm Miller one day with news of a royal assignment.

‘The Palace has been on the phone,’ he said. ‘They want to have a look at our new laptop. Here’s the phone number. Can you handle it pronto? Better take Cliff with you, as you know nothing about technology.’

I rang the number and it was answered by the secretary to the Princess Royal. A date was arranged, and I was given instructions about which door I should enter, to the right of the Buckingham Palace facade.

Come the day, Cliff, the technical guru, and I duly showed up. Eventually a side door opened and in strode Princess Anne, lugging under her arm a heavy piece of marble.

‘We’re on round plugs here and they fall out of their sockets,’ she explained. ‘So we’ve all got a piece of stone to lean on the plugs.’

She was exquisitely dressed in a beautiful green suit and was the most charming, interesting, amusing company.

These were the early days of mobile computing, and she told us she wanted to study this Amstrad model because she was thinking of getting one for her father, Prince Philip.

That was the first, and last, time I met the Princess Royal, but others have confirmed my opinion of her as a good sport.

Less impressive as a royal was Prince Andrew, whom I met at a reception at St James’s Palace.

As far as I can see, he works a room like this: A lackey approaches to say you will shortly be introduced to the Prince and should therefore form a small horseshoe of three or four people and look out for the discreet nod that indicates you are next in line.

We knew immediately that he was homing in on our horseshoe, because we could hear him from 30 yards away — he has a sort of booming, unattractive manner about him.

He huffed and puffed in the middle of our group, was obviously not the slightest bit interested in any of us, and before long was gone, which was fine by us.