High life
We're not all idiots
Taki
Rougemont `friends of Frederick who disclosed his cocaine abuse had decided to come for- ward because of concern about Prince William's position . .. Most of his circle take cocaine ...'
Of course not. Prince William's circle, I would think, takes less cocaine than, say, Elisabeth Murdoch's and her louche lover Matthew Freud's. After all, la Murdoch and Freud hang out with PR and TV peo- ple, both professions notorious for their intake of happy dust. So, who is more at risk? In my vast experience about such matters, Elisabeth Murdoch is truly in dan- ger, and something should be done about it. After all, she influences public opinion far more than Prince William, ergo my rea- sons for coming forward to voice my con- cern about Elisabeth's position. The 'friends' of Frederick Windsor who gave him away were obviously on the take of Murdoch gold. That's basically Freddy boy's problem. If one has to take drugs, the scourge of our age, one has got to do it either alone, or in the company of real friends, not the kind that sell stories to Murdoch. Exposing a 20-year-old on the front pages for having taken a sniff is not only immoral, it is actually evil. Tony Blair has cocaine abusers to 10 Downing Street and is photographed arse-licking those grotesque Gallagher low-lifes. That's con- sidered smart politics. But a 20-year-old connected to the royal family takes the odd sniff and is splashed all over the front pages as a 'cocaine abuser' and danger to the future King of England. And what about Tara Palmer-Tomkinson? As an 'it' girl, she could have been exposed by her ST employer, but the paper chose to be dis- creet. Why entrap Freddy? Let me tell you a quick story about entrapment. I was at a nightclub — not Annabel's — with Constantine Niarchos and Dodi Fayed about ten years ago. We were drunk and I went to the lavatory. While washing, a man approached and offered me drugs. I would be lying if I said I wasn't very, very tempted. But what Papa Hemingway called his 'shit detector' kicked in, and I suddenly grabbed the man, wres- tled him to the floor, and ripped open his shirt, He was wired at the waist. My prob- lem is that I'm a nice drunk; I become pacific when under the influence, and almost everyone becomes my friend. I should have beaten him to a pulp but he begged for mercy and I let him go. He was a slimy individual, and I would have felt sorry for him afterwards if I had given him what he deserved.
Mind you, I should have forced him to tell me whom he was working for, and should have called the ftizz. But in view of my past history, the last thing I needed was a headline about coke and yours truly. I did warn Constantine and Dodi, however, both of whom were appalled and left in rather a h,41131. I will not disclose the club because the owner is a friend of mine who tries very hard to keep drugs out, but that's like try- ing to make Robin Cook look telegenic, or Jack Straw a gentleman. Impossible.
`Rave culture' consumes 500,000 ecstasy tablets every weekend, and there is not a single person living in England who hasn't come into contact with someone who has taken cocaine; 52 per cent of over 15-year- olds have tried drugs, so why the great headline of a young man — I am told that he's decent and polite — taking the odd sniff? I genuinely feel sorry for the boy, and knowing his pushy mother, I don't blame him for seeking a boost. Basically, all the headlines mean one thing only: try to involve Prince William with drug users to further discredit the monarchy.
And speaking of the monarchy, I am glad that my buddy Luke Johnson, the multi- millionaire son of the great Paul Johnson, defended Prince Edward's remarks. Luke knows all about envy in England, as do I. Envy and malice are as English as tea and scones. In fact, so envious are the English that they will even attack their benefactors, as in the case of Wafic Said's incredibly generous gift to Oxford. But not to worry. The malicious and envious ones are those who suffer most. Although I wish I did have James Hewitt's thick skin. He should go to work for a British tabloid dishing the dirt on the young and unsuspecting. He'd be good at it. Perhaps he could seduce Frederick Windsor's 18-year-old sister and write about it. Go for it, Jimbo, you've done far worse.
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