In her own soul-bar­ing words, what she RE­ALLY thought about Charles, Camilla and the roy­als

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IN 1991, few peo­ple knew the truth about Princess Diana’s mar­riage: that it was fall­ing apart... and that Charles had rekin­dled his re­la­tion­ship with Camilla Parker Bowles. Dev­as­tated, she de­cided to make her side of the story pub­lic by record­ing her thoughts for au­thor Andrew Mor­ton via a go-between. Her one con­di­tion: that her in­volve­ment be kept a strict se­cret. The book he wrote — Diana: Her True Story — caused a sen­sa­tion.

Now, 20 years after her death, it is be­ing re­pub­lished, with tran­scripts of those tapes. Our first ex­tract be­gins with her meet­ing Charles at her home, Althorp House in Northamp­ton­shire, in Novem­ber 1977, when she was just 16. He was 29 — and at the time dat­ing her sis­ter Sarah, 22 . . .

CHARLES came to Althorp to stay, and the first im­pact was: ‘God, what a sad man.’ He came with his labrador. My sis­ter Sarah was all over him like a bad rash, and I thought: ‘God, he must re­ally hate that.’ I kept out of the way. I re­mem­ber be­ing a fat, podgy, no make-up, un­smart lady but I made a lot of noise, and he liked that. And he came up to me after din­ner and we had a big dance, and he said: ‘Will you show me the gallery?’ (The 115ft-long Pic­ture Gallery con­tained Van Dyck’s War And Peace, among other paint­ings).

And I was just about to show him the gallery and Sarah comes up and tells me to push off. I said: ‘At least let me tell you where the switches are to the gallery, be­cause you won’t know where they are,’ and I dis­ap­peared.

And he was charm him­self. And when I stood next to him the next day, a 16-year-old, for some­one like that to show you any at­ten­tion — I was just so sort of amazed. ‘Why would any­one like him be in­ter­ested in me?’ And it was in­ter­est.

That was it for about two years. I saw him off and on with Sarah (whose re­la­tion­ship with Charles ended after nine months). When he had his 30th birth­day dance (at which The Three De­grees per­formed, in Novem­ber 1978 at Buck­ing­ham Palace) I was asked, too.

‘Why is Diana com­ing as well?’ my sis­ter asked. I said: ‘Well, I don’t know, but I’d like to come.’ I had a very nice time at the dance — fas­ci­nat­ing. I wasn’t at all in­tim­i­dated by the sur­round­ings. I thought: amaz­ing place. Then I was asked to stay at the de Passes (friends of Prince Philip) in July 1980 by Philip de Pass, who is the son.

‘Would you like to come and stay for a cou­ple of nights down at Pet­worth (in West Sus­sex), be­cause we’ve got the Prince of Wales stay­ing. You’re a young blood — you might amuse him.’ So I said: ‘OK.’ Charles came in. He was all over me again, and it was very strange.

I thought: ‘Well, this isn’t very cool.’ I thought men were sup­posed not to be so ob­vi­ous; I thought this was very odd.

The first night, we sat down on a hay bale at the bar­be­cue at this house, and he’d just fin­ished with Anna Wal­lace (the daugh­ter of a Scot­tish landowner, known — on ac­count of her fiery tem­per — as Whiplash Wal­lace, with whom he had a stormy, six-month re­la­tion­ship).

I said: ‘You looked so sad when you walked up the aisle at Lord Mount­bat­ten’s funeral (Charles’s beloved great-un­cle had been killed in County Sligo, Ire­land, the year be­fore, in Au­gust 1979, by an IRA bomb on his boat).

‘It was the most tragic thing I’ve ever seen. My heart bled for you when I watched. I thought: “It’s wrong, you’re lonely — you should be with some­body to look after you.” ’

The next minute, he leapt on me prac­ti­cally, and I thought this was very strange, too, and I wasn’t quite sure how to cope with all this. Frigid wasn’t the word. Big F, when it comes to that.

We talked about lots of things, and any­way that was it. He said: ‘You must come to Lon­don with me to­mor­row. I’ve got to work at Buck­ing­ham Palace — you must come to work with me.’ I thought this was too much. I said: ‘No, I can’t.’

I thought: ‘How will I ex­plain my pres­ence at Buck­ing­ham Palace when I’m sup­posed to be stay­ing with Philip (de Pass)?’ Then (two weeks later, in early Au­gust) he asked me to Cowes on Bri­tan­nia (the royal yacht), and he had lots of older friends there and I was very in­tim­i­dated.

But they were all over me like a bad rash. I felt very strange about the whole thing.

Then I went to stay with my sis­ter Jane at Bal­moral (for the week­end of the Brae­mar Games in early Septem­ber) where Robert (Fel­lowes, sis­ter Jane’s hus­band) was as­sis­tant pri­vate sec­re­tary (to the Queen).

I was ter­ri­fied, be­cause I had never stayed at Bal­moral and I wanted to get it right. The an­tic­i­pa­tion was worse than ac­tu­ally be­ing there. You’re all right once you get in through the front door. I had a nor­mal sin­gle bed! I’m just telling you.

I have al­ways done my own pack­ing and un­pack­ing. Now, ob­vi­ously, I don’t — I haven’t got the time. But I was al­ways ap­palled that Charles takes 22 pieces of hand lug­gage with him. That’s be­fore all the other stuff. I al­ways have four or five. I felt rather em­bar­rassed.

Mr and Mrs Parker Bowles were there at all my vis­its. I was the youngest there by a long way. Charles used to ring me up and say: ‘Would you like to come for a walk, come for a bar­be­cue?’ So I said: ‘Yes, please.’ I thought this was all won­der­ful.


When Diana turned 18, her par­ents bought her a three-bed­room flat in South Kens­ing­ton as a lav­ish com­ing-of-age present. She shared it with three girl­friends — Vir­ginia Pitman, Carolyn Bartholome­w and Ann Bolton. On her bed­room door were em­bla­zoned the words Chief Chick. She also worked as a nanny and in a kinder­garten. IT WAS nice be­ing in a flat with the girls. I loved that — it was great. I laughed my head off there. I kept my­self to my­self. I wasn’t in­ter­ested in hav­ing a full di­ary. I loved be­ing on my own, as I do now — a great treat.

They (her nan­ny­ing jobs) were of­ten pretty grim em­ploy­ers — vel­vet hair­bands. I was sent out to all sorts of peo­ple from my sis­ters — their friends were pro­duc­ing rapidly. They sent me out the whole time — it was bliss.

Solve Your Prob­lems (em­ploy­ment agency) sent me on clean­ing mis­sions, but no­body ever thanked me for it. But that was just a fill-in on Tues­days and Thurs­days, be­cause Mon­days, Wed­nes­days and Fri­days I worked in a kinder­garten. So I had two jobs, which was great.

I did a cook­ery course in Wim­ble­don with Mrs Rus­sell. She’s French. I quite

liked it, but more vel­vet hair­bands. i got ter­ri­bly fat be­cause my fin­gers were al­ways in the saucepans, for which i got fined.

it wasn’t my idea of fun, but my par­ents wanted me to do it.

at the time it seemed a bet­ter alternativ­e than be­ing be­hind a type­writer — and i got a di­ploma!


CHARLES said he wanted to be in the duchy of Corn­wall vicin­ity, but it’s only 11 miles from Camilla’s house. He chose the house and i came along af­ter­wards.

i first went there after he bought it. He had painted all the walls white. He wanted me to do it up, even though we were not en­gaged. i thought it was very im­proper, but he liked my taste.

(in­te­rior de­signer) dud­ley Po­plak did up my mother’s house ten years pre­vi­ously and had al­ways been a friend of my mother’s, so i said to her: ‘What do you think?’ She said: ‘Well, use him — he’s been mar­vel­lous, very loyal.’

i chose the dec­o­ra­tions and had a free hand to do that.


ON FE­BRU­ARY 3, 1981, Prince Charles, then 32, pro­posed to Diana in the nurs­ery at wind­sor Cas­tle. She was 19. their en­gage­ment was an­nounced three weeks later, on Fe­bru­ary 24. that same day, in a BBC in­ter­view, Charles, when asked if they were in love, fa­mously re­sponded: ‘what­ever in love means.’ Be­fore night­fall, Diana had moved out of Cole­herne Court, her South Kens­ing­ton flat, and into the Queen Mother’s res­i­dence, Clarence house, on the Mall. that wasn’t the only rad­i­cal change in her life. in the six months lead­ing to the en­gage­ment, she — and her flat­mates — had come in­creas­ingly un­der Press scru­tiny. OUR re­la­tion­ship sort of built up from there (the Brae­mar games week­end). Then the Press seized upon it.

Then that be­came sim­ply un­bear­able in our flat, but my three girls were won­der­ful — star per­form­ers, loy­alty beyond be­lief. The feel­ing (in San­dring­ham) was: i wish Prince Charles would hurry up and get on with it. The Queen was fed up.

He wrote to me from Klosters (the Swiss ski­ing re­sort) and then he rang me up and said: ‘i’ve got some­thing very im­por­tant to ask you.’

an instinct in a fe­male tells you what it is. i sat up all night with my girls, say­ing: ‘Christ, what am i go­ing to do?’ DIANA had reg­u­larly asked her flat­mates for ad­vice on how to con­duct her ro­mance. Carolyn Bartholome­w re­called: ‘it was pretty nor­mal pro­ce­dure that goes on between girls. Some of it i can’t dis­close, some of it would have been on the lines of: “Make sure you do this or that.” it was a bit of a game.’ BY THAT time, i’d re­alised there was some­body else around. i’d been stay­ing at Bole­hyde (Manor, home of Camilla and her hus­band andrew) with the Parker Bowle­ses an aw­ful lot, and i couldn’t un­der­stand why she kept say­ing to me: ‘don’t push him into do­ing this, don’t do that.’

She knew so much about what he was do­ing pri­vately and about what we were do­ing pri­vately . . . like if we were go­ing to stay at Broad­lands (the Mount­bat­ten fam­ily seat in Hamp­shire).

i couldn’t un­der­stand it. even­tu­ally, i worked it all out and found the proof of the pud­ding, and peo­ple were will­ing to talk to me.

any­way, next day i went to Wind­sor and i ar­rived about 5 o’clock and he sat me down and said: ‘i’ve missed you so much.’ But there was never any­thing tac­tile about him. it was ex­tra­or­di­nary, but i didn’t have any­thing to go by be­cause i had never had a boyfriend. i’d al­ways kept them away, thought they were all trou­ble — and i couldn’t han­dle it emo­tion­ally. i was very screwed up, i thought. any­way, so he said: ‘Will you marry me?’ and i laughed. i re­mem­ber think­ing: ‘This is a joke’, and i said: ‘Yeah, OK’, and laughed.

He was deadly se­ri­ous. He said: ‘You do re­alise that one day you will be Queen?’

and a voice said to me in­side: ‘You won’t be Queen, but you’ll have a tough role.’

i thought: ‘OK’, so i said: ‘Yes.’ i said: ‘i love you so much, i love you so much.’ He said: ‘What­ever love means.’ He said it then. i thought that was great! i thought he meant that! and so he ran up­stairs and rang his mother.

in my im­ma­tu­rity, which was enor­mous, i thought that he was very much in love with me, which he was. He al­ways had a sort of be­sot­ted look about him, look­ing back at it, but it wasn’t the gen­uine sort. Who was this girl who was so dif­fer­ent? But he couldn’t un­der­stand (me) be­cause his im­ma­tu­rity was quite big in that de­part­ment, too. (LATER) a brief­case comes along on the pre­text that (Prince) andrew is get­ting a signet ring for his 21st birth­day and along come th­ese sap­phires. i mean nuggets! i sup­pose i chose it, we all chipped in. The Queen paid for it.


IT WAS only after they were en­gaged that Diana was al­lowed to call Prince Charles by his first name; un­til then she had called him Sir. this was

We sat on a hay bale. Charles was all over me – he leapt on me prac­ti­cally I was a fat, podgy, no make-up, un­smart lady — but I made a lot of noise and he liked that

con­sid­ered nor­mal by his cir­cle at the time — in­deed, her el­der sis­ter Sarah had also called him Sir when she’d gone out with him. For me, it was like a call of duty, re­ally — to go and work with the peo­ple.

I came back to the flat and sat on my bed. ‘Girls, guess what?’

They said: ‘He asked you. What did you say?’ ‘Yes, please.’ They screamed and howled and we went for a drive around Lon­don with our se­cret.

I rang my par­ents the next morn­ing. Daddy was thrilled: ‘How won­der­ful.’ And Mummy was thrilled.

I then went away two days later to Aus­tralia for three weeks to sort of set­tle down and to or­gan­ise lists and things with my mother. That was a com­plete dis­as­ter be­cause I pined for him, but he never rang me up.

I thought that was very strange, and when­ever I rang him, he was out and he never rang me back. I thought: ‘OK’ — I was just be­ing gen­er­ous — ‘He is be­ing very busy, this, that and the other.’

I come back from Aus­tralia, some­one knocks on my door — some­one from his of­fice with a bunch of flow­ers, and I knew that they hadn’t come from Charles be­cause there was no note. It was just some­body be­ing very tact­ful in the of­fice.

Then it all started to build up, sort of like the Press were be­ing un­bear­able, fol­low­ing my every move.

I un­der­stood they had a job, but peo­ple did not un­der­stand they had binoc­u­lars on me the whole time. They hired the op­po­site flat in old Bromp­ton road, which looked into my bed­room, and it wasn’t fair on the girls.

I had to get out once to go to stay with Charles at Broad­lands. So we took my sheets off the bed and I got out of the kitchen win­dow, which is on the side street, with a suit­case. I did it that way round.

I was con­stantly po­lite, con­stantly civil. I was never rude. I never shouted. But I cried like a baby to the four walls. I just couldn’t cope with it. I cried be­cause I got no sup­port from Charles and no sup­port from the Palace press of­fice. They just said: ‘You’re on your own’, so I thought: ‘Fine.’

Charles wasn’t at all sup­port­ive. When­ever he rang me up, he said: ‘Poor Camilla Parker Bowles. I’ve had her on the tele­phone tonight and she says there’s lots of press at Bole­hyde. She’s hav­ing a very rough time.’

I asked him: ‘How many press are out there?’ He said: ‘At least four.’

I thought: ‘My God, there’s 34 here!’ and I never told him. I never com­plained about the Press to him be­cause I didn’t think it was my po­si­tion to do so.

I was able to recog­nise an in­ner de­ter­mi­na­tion to sur­vive. Any­way, thank God, the en­gage­ment got an­nounced and be­fore I knew what hap­pened, I was in Clarence House.

No­body there to wel­come me. It was like go­ing into a ho­tel. Ev­ery­one said: ‘Why are you at Clarence House?’ and I said I was told that I was ex­pected to be at Clarence House. I re­mem­ber be­ing wo­ken in the morn­ing by a very sweet el­derly lady who brought in all the pa­pers about the en­gage­ment and put them on my bed.

I’d left my flat for the last time and sud­denly I had a po­lice­man. And my po­lice­man the night be­fore the en­gage­ment said to me: ‘I just want you to know that this is your last night of free­dom ever, in the rest of your life, so make the most of it.’

It was like a sword went in my heart. I thought: ‘God’, then I sort of gig­gled like an im­ma­ture girl.


I MET her very early on. I was in­tro­duced to the cir­cle — but I was a threat. I was a very young girl, but I was a threat.

When I ar­rived at Clarence House, there was a let­ter on my bed from Camilla, dated two days pre­vi­ously, say­ing: ‘Such ex­cit­ing news about the en­gage­ment. Do let’s have lunch soon when the Prince of Wales goes to Aus­tralia and New Zealand. He’s go­ing to be away for three weeks. I’d love to see the ring. Lots of love, Camilla.’

And that was: ‘Wow!’ So I or­gan­ised lunch. Bear­ing in mind that I was so im­ma­ture, I didn’t know about jeal­ousy or de­pres­sions or any­thing like that.

I had such a won­der­ful ex­is­tence be­ing a kinder­garten teacher — you didn’t suf­fer from any­thing like that. You got tired, but that was it. There was no one around to give you grief.

So we had lunch. Very tricky in­deed. She said: ‘You are not go­ing to hunt, are you?’ I said: ‘on what?’ She said: ‘Horse. You are not go­ing to hunt when you go and live at High­grove, are you?’ I said: ‘No.’ She said: ‘I just wanted to know.’ And I thought as far as she was con­cerned, that was her com­mu­ni­ca­tion route. Still too im­ma­ture to un­der­stand all the mes­sages com­ing my way.


After a few days, Diana moved from Clarence House to Buck­ing­ham Palace. It was a place of ‘dead energy’, she said, and she felt lonely there. She reg­u­larly wan­dered from her sec­ond-floor apart­ment to the kitchens to chat to the staff — and on one oc­ca­sion, bare­foot and in jeans, but­tered toast for an as­ton­ished foot­man. I COULDN’T be­lieve how cold ev­ery­one was; how I thought one thing but ac­tu­ally an­other thing was go­ing on.

The lies and the de­ceit! The first thing that hit me was my (fu­ture) hus­band send­ing Camilla Parker Bowles flow­ers when she had menin­gi­tis: ‘To Gla­dys from Fred’ (their nick­names for each other).

I never dealt with that side of things. I just said to him: ‘You must al­ways be hon­est with me.’

I was the only one here (when plan­ning the wed­ding) be­cause (Charles) had pushed off to Aus­tralia and New Zealand on tour, and you may re­call, of course, the pic­ture of me sob­bing in a red coat when he went off in the aero­plane.

It had noth­ing to do with him go­ing. The most aw­ful thing had hap­pened be­fore he went. I was in his study talk­ing to him, when the tele­phone rang. It was Camilla.

I thought: ‘Shall I be nice (and leave him alone so he can talk to her in pri­vate) or shall I just sit here?’ So I thought I’d be nice, so I left them to it. It just broke my heart, that.

We al­ways had dis­cus­sions about Camilla, though. I once heard him on the tele­phone in his bath on his hand-held set, say­ing: ‘What­ever hap­pens, I will al­ways love you.’

I told him af­ter­wards that I had lis­tened at the door, and we had a filthy row.

Some­body in his of­fice told me that my hus­band had had a bracelet made for her, which she wears to this day. It’s a gold chain bracelet with a blue enamel disc. It’s got ‘G and F’ en­twined in it, ‘Gla­dys’ and ‘Fred’.

I walked into this man’s of­fice one day and said: ‘oh, what’s in that par­cel?’ He said: ‘oh, you shouldn’t look at that.’ I said: ‘Well, I’m go­ing to look at it.’ I opened it, and there was (the) bracelet, and I said: ‘I know where this is go­ing.’ I was dev­as­tated. This was about two weeks be­fore we got mar­ried.

He said: ‘Well, he’s go­ing to give it to her tonight.’

So rage, rage, rage! ‘Why can’t you be hon­est with me?’ But, no, Charles cut me ab­so­lutely dead. It’s as if he had made his de­ci­sion; and if it wasn’t go­ing to work, it wasn’t go­ing to work.

He’d found the vir­gin, the sacri­fi­cial lamb, and in a way he was ob­sessed with me. But it was hot and cold, hot and cold. You never knew what mood it was go­ing to be — up and down, up and down.

He took the bracelet, lunchtime on Mon­day. We got mar­ried on the Wed­nes­day. I went to his po­lice­man, who was back in the of­fice, and said: ‘John, where’s Prince Charles?’ and he said: ‘oh, he’s gone out for lunch.’

So I said: ‘Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with him?’ ‘oh, I’m go­ing to col­lect him later.’ So I went up­stairs, had lunch with my sis­ters who were there, and said: ‘I can’t marry him. I can’t do this. This is ab­so­lutely un­be­liev­able.’

They were won­der­ful and said: ‘Well, bad luck, Duch (her child­hood nick­name), your

Two days be­fore the wed­ding, I told my sis­ters: I can’t marry him. Bad luck, they said — your face is on the tea-tow­els

face is on the tea-tow­els so you’re too late to chicken out.’

The bu­limia started the week after we got en­gaged (and would take nearly a decade to over­come).

My hus­band put his hand on my waist­line and said: ‘Oh, a bit chubby here, aren’t we?’ and that trig­gered off some­thing in me. And the Camilla thing. I was des­per­ate, des­per­ate. I re­mem­ber the first time I made my­self sick. I was so thrilled be­cause I thought this was the re­lease of ten­sion.

The first time I was measured for my wed­ding dress, I was 29 inches around the waist. The day I got mar­ried, I was 23½ inches. I had shrunk into noth­ing from Fe­bru­ary to July. I had shrunk to noth­ing.


They ap­peared at var­i­ous events, like the opera and go­ing to Annabel’s (night­club) af­ter­wards.

The cir­cuit then was Jeremy and Sue Phipps, Char­lie and Patti Palmer-Tomkin­son, Camilla and Andrew Parker Bowles, em­i­lie and hugh van Cut­sem, Si­mon and Annabel el­liot — Camilla’s sis­ter and brother-in-law. They were the big speak­ers. Then there were some on the out­side, too.

I started to think: ‘Gosh, they talk rather strangely to me.’

I was very nor­mal in the sense that I said what I thought, be­cause no­body ever told me to shut up. They were all oil­ing up, ba­si­cally, kiss­ing Charles’s feet, and I thought it was so bad for an in­di­vid­ual to re­ceive all that. em­i­lie van Cut­sem used to be my best friend. She told me about Camilla. She’s very for­mi­da­ble, very out­spo­ken. Now the cir­cle has broad­ened.

Other peo­ple have come in and they’re not so much of a threat. They’re ac­tu­ally ter­ri­bly nice to me. I get on very well with them. But the ones who were there at the be­gin­ning are the ones that rum­ble a lot.


In March 1981, Diana ac­com­pa­nied Prince charles on their first joint pub­lic en­gage­ment, a black-tie event at Gold­smith’s hall in aid of the royal Opera house developmen­t ap­peal. She wore a strap­less, black taffeta evening gown de­signed by El­iz­a­beth and David Emanuel, who would go on to de­sign her wed­ding dress. I RE­MEM­BER my first en­gage­ment so well. So ex­cited. I got this black dress from the emanuels and I thought it was OK be­cause girls my age wore this dress. I hadn’t ap­pre­ci­ated that I was now seen as a royal lady, although I’d only got a ring on my fin­ger as op­posed to two rings. I re­mem­ber walk­ing into my hus­band-to-be’s study, and him say­ing: ‘you’re not go­ing in that dress, are you?’ I replied: ‘yes, I am.’ And he said: ‘It’s black! But only peo­ple in mourn­ing wear black!’ And I said: ‘yes, but I’m not part of your fam­ily yet.’

Black, to me, was the smartest colour you could pos­si­bly have at the age of 19. It was a real grown-up dress. I was quite big chested then, and they (the Press) all got fright­fully ex­cited.

I learned a les­son that night. I re­mem­ber meet­ing Princess Grace and how won­der­ful and serene she was — but there was trou­bled wa­ter un­der her, I saw that.

(Princess Grace no­ticed how fright­ened she was and whisked her off to the ladies’ for a chat. Diana poured her heart out to her about her sense of iso­la­tion and her fears for the fu­ture. ‘Don’t worry,’ Princess Grace joked. ‘It will only get worse.’)

It was a hor­ren­dous oc­ca­sion. I didn’t know whether to go out of the door first. I didn’t know whether your hand­bag should be in your left hand or your right hand.

I was ter­ri­fied, re­ally — at the time ev­ery­thing was all over the place. I re­mem­ber that evening so well. I was ter­ri­fied — nearly sick.

I missed my girls so much. I wanted to go back there (to Cole­herne Court) and sit and gig­gle like we used to, and bor­row clothes and chat about silly things — just be­ing in my safe shell again.

One day, you’ve got the King and Queen of Swe­den com­ing to give you their wed­ding present of four brass can­dle­sticks, the next minute you get the Pres­i­dent of Some­where else com­ing.

I was just pushed into the fire. But I have to say, my up­bring­ing was able to han­dle that. It wasn’t as though I was picked out — like My Fair Lady — and told to get on with it. I did know how to re­act.

you see, I had a very good life­style my­self. I was Lady Diana Spencer. I was liv­ing in a big house, I had my own money. So it wasn’t as though I was go­ing into any­thing dif­fer­ent.

EX­TRACTED from Diana: her true Story — In her Own Words by andrew Mor­ton, to be pub­lished by Michael O’Mara Books on June 17 at £20. © andrew Mor­ton 2017. to buy this book for £14 (30 per cent dis­count) un­til June 23, 2017, go to www.mail­book­shop.co.uk or call 0844 571 0640. the first 300 copies will be signed by andrew Mor­ton. P&P is free on or­ders over £15.

This is your last night of free­dom, my po­lice­man said. A sword went through my heart

Neck and neck: Diana and Camilla at Lud­low races in 1980 where Charles was rid­ing

Girl about town: Diana leaves her flat at Cole­herne Court in Lon­don in 1981

Ter­ri­fied: Diana at her first royal en­gage­ment at Gold­smith’s Hall in March 1981

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