Anguish that may reunite brothers

WILLIAM called it “a long lonely walk… one of the hardest things I’ve ever done”. Harry later turned to therapy.

Even aged 12, William understood there was a balance “between me being Prince William and having to do my bit, versus the private William who just wanted to go into a room and cry, who’d lost his mother”.

Harry recalled: “Both of us were in shock. My mother had just died and I had to walk a long way behind her coffin, surrounded by thousands of people watching me while millions more did on television.”

And 25 years on, like being forced to play themselves in a Crimewatch reconstruction of their most painful public ordeal, again they stepped out on the same London streets, behind a beloved matriarch whose absence will be sorely felt for the rest of their days.

To many of us William and Harry are forever frozen in time in that horrific, iconic image. Two broken boys behind their mother’s coffin. Thank goodness they had each other, back then.

It’s hard not to wonder if yesterday’s procession, and the unexpected truce, has reminded William and Harry how much they mean to each other.

Because this is the most relatable part of proceedings so far, isn’t it? When one of our nearest and dearest dies, the world doesn’t stand still, events aren’t cancelled, everyone goes to work. There aren’t processions, and palaces and pomp. But we all have families, and no family is perfect. There will always be differences, disagreements, dysfunction.

Then some life-changing crisis reunites you.

Could last weekend’s joint walkabout, and yesterday’s march, be the first steps toward a reconciliation for William and Harry?

Here’s hoping.