The royals - Kitty Kelley [163]
“It’s all his own decision,” Diana told another journalist. “I was brought up in the country and like shooting. I shot a deer at Balmoral on our honeymoon. I just think Charles has gone a bit potty.”
Charmed by the Princess, John Junor had reservations about the Prince. “Charles was a serious, perhaps too serious, young man, obsessed with the idea of serving the nation, in some danger of overwhelming his wife, and in even greater danger of boring her.”
After weeks of consultations with their advisers, including an astrologer, the Prince and Princess decided to go on television. They said they wanted to be interviewed (“by a respectful interviewer, of course,” Charles stipulated) so they could present themselves to people without the subjectivity of newspapers. “Let people see us as we really are,” said Diana. In exchange for the privilege of this interview, Independent Television gave them editorial control and assured them of soft lighting. “I wouldn’t want my [bald] patch to blind viewers,” Charles joked.
They called Sir Richard Attenborough, the film director, to coach them. Under his guidance they became world-class illusionists. Charles played the romantic lead; Diana was the pretty ingenue. The two little Princes, Wills and Harry, were the extras pounding the piano in the background. As the future King, Charles was to appear strong, resolute, and worthy of trust. As his consort, Diana was to sit by his side, sweetly and supportively. By October 1985 they knew their parts to perfection.
“People expect a great deal of us,” Charles began earnestly, “and I’m always conscious—I’m sure you are, too, darling—of not wanting to let people down, not wanting to let this country down.” Diana looked up at him demurely and nodded.
She was asked about her role. “To support my husband,” she said, “and always be behind him and encouraging. And also a more important thing, being a wife and mother.”
For forty-five minutes they performed flawlessly. She said she never dieted; he didn’t even know what a Ouija board looked like. She denied being a shopaholic; he did not practice homeopathy. She professed the greatest respect for Princess Anne. He kept an open mind about architecture.
When the interviewer delicately approached the rumors about Diana’s being a domineering wife and dictating her husband’s taste, she looked surprised. “I might pick the odd tie now and then,” she said, “but that’s it.” Later, she said Charles chuckled about that response, remembering her frenzied efforts to overhaul his appearance. She had spent days rummaging through his closets, discarding his solid blue shirts—”so boring”—and substituting Turnbull & Asser’s stripes, tossing out single-button jackets in favor of double-breasted blazers, throwing away lace-up cordovans—”too fuddy-duddy”—and bringing in tasseled loafers. She even sent him to her hairdresser with instructions for blow-drying: “Cover up the patch.” Because of his big ears, she told Charles not to wear hats. “You’ll look like a Volkswagen with both doors wide open.”
On television the royal couple shared an easy camaraderie and playfulness that dispelled rumors about their marriage. They bantered briefly, smiled frequently, and enchanted viewers. The interview was later shown on American television to coincide with their 1985 trip to Washington, D.C. This was to be Diana’s first visit to the United States, so the Queen sent her Palace press secretary to the States to handle the media. Michael Shea briefed American reporters on how they were expected to behave, admonishing them to question only the Prince and not the Princess. “She will not answer,” he said, “so don’t even try.”
Throughout the two-day tour Diana said nothing publicly. As they were leaving, she was asked how she liked Washington.
“Very good,” she said softly, “I—”
Charles interrupted. “Speaking as her spokesman,” he said in a booming voice, “she thinks it’s wonderful.”
Shea shot a reproving look at the reporter who had dared to address his question to the Princess instead of the Prince.