Daily Mirror (Northern Ireland)
Not the scand THE SATURDA
SIX decades on, the Profumo Affair still captivates with its heady mix of sex, power and espionage.
Tomorrow a new TV drama, The Trial of Christine Keeler, retells the tale, this time very much from the perspective of the title character.
The ex-topless dancer was just 19 when she was befriended by social-climbing osteopath Stephen Ward, who she would later claim was a Soviet spy.
Her simultaneous affairs with War Minister John Profumo and Soviet spy Yevgeny Ivanov led to the fall of a government. Christine died at 75 in 2017.
As the BBC prepares to give her a long-awaited voice, here, in an emotional extract from her memoir Secrets and Lies, she tells what really happened.
It was not John Profumo who was the victim of a set-up at Cliveden on the weekend of Saturday, 8 July 1961. It was me.
Stephen Ward has been portrayed as an immoral rascal; in reality he was a Soviet spymaster who befriended hosts of powerful people in the government, aristocracy and even members of the Royal Family.
He had been my mentor, my Svengali, from the time I arrived in London as a teenager. I loved him but we were never lovers.
He wanted to know all about America’s intentions for nuclear weapons. He had talked about it openly in front of me in the house we shared in Wimpole Mews.
Fortunately for Stephen, Profumo was a man with wandering eyes and hands to match. And I was a mixed-up, lovesick young girl in that long, hot summer when the temperatures soared.
That night we first met, Lord Astor – Stephen’s patient – was entertaining nearly 40 people including the President of Pakistan and Profumo and his wife, leading actress Valerie Hobson.
Stephen and I were allowed to use the grand, walled swimming pool. I’d forgotten my swimsuit but there were always spare ones in the pool house. I put on a black one-piece but it was old fashioned and tight around my bottom. I liked to swim with lots of energy and just couldn’t get going in that suit. Stephen told me to take it off as it was only us.
Nude, I felt a lot better and happily swam around – until Bill Astor strolled in with Jack Profumo. I had no idea who Profumo was.
Iwas stuck naked in the pool but there was a small towel at the deep end and I quickly splashed over there and grabbed it. The men were all watching my mermaid act, a fish out of water. It was impossible to be dignified: I could either cover my breasts or my backside but not both. I attempted to walk out at the shallow end without giving them the full Monty.
They had obviously had a few drinks and with
Stephen’s encouragement started trying to whip the tiny towel away from me.
I ran around the pool with Lord Astor, head of a legendary family, and
John Profumo, one of
Supermac’s most important ministers, chasing me. I had been drinking too and accepted this as great fun. I was giggling and enjoying the game.
The towel would slip or I would let it slip a bit and there were schoolboy shrieks from the two of them. Then more of Bill’s guests arrived, including Jack’s wife.
The women were in evening gowns and jewellery. All I had on was this sad square of towelling. With dripping hair, I smiled and hoped the ground would swallow me up.
But I was rather taken with Jack, impressed with him. Once dressed and back in the main house, he invited me to look round with him.
He showed me Bill’s office and the study. When no one was looking, he chased me round a table or desk. It became a little game for the two of us: what was behind the next door?
Jack suggested: “A kiss?”
It got a little naughtier with him stroking my back as we walked. I hadn’t noticed but Stephen was suddenly there and was watching
Jack’s eyes on me. He knew what had happened and what could happen – it was part of his tradecraft. The next morning Stephen woke me early. This is when the Profumo Affair, the espionage aspect, not the sex, began. He said he must get back to London fast but had to make a stop at Cliveden as Bill Astor had left something for him to pick up. I was still sleepy and happy to sit in the car while Stephen went inside. He’d seen Jack’s briefcase in Bill’s office. When he returned, Stephen had a small bundle of envelopes and papers. They were about the Skybolt missiles which were to be Britain’s nuclear weaponry.
Jack Profumo never revealed that letters were stolen – whether out of incompetence or sheer arrogance to conceal his negligence, I don’t know. The next day Stephen invited Eugene Ivanov, a big bear of a Russian naval attaché and Moscow spy, to Cliveden.
Soon after we arrived at the pool some of the men decided to have a race. I said we should have a girls’ race but Jack wanted it to be a mixed doubles. The same men were in the race and we girls climbed on to their shoulders. I was on Jack’s and he ho arou the w afloa fallin
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