Contents
THE BEGINNING
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Paul Burrell
A ROYAL DUTY
PENGUIN BOOKS
A ROYAL DUTY
Powerful. Poignant. And extremely important. I am amazed by this wonderful book Patricia Cornwell
A tender, insightful memoir of a special and sometimes bizarre relationship Burrells testimony is powerful his decency shines through on every page Christopher Silvester, Sunday Times
Its unputdownable Lynn Barber, Daily Telegraph
A standout memoir you cannot fault the energy of his storytelling A Royal Duty may come to be recognised as an historical document in its own right Tim Teeman, The Times
Riveting and ultimately rather touching Anne Chisolm, Spectator
Burrell has not betrayed the trust of The Boss. Her ghost must be raising a flute of champagne Mark Lawson, Guardian
The most gripping book Ive read this year Not only a riveting account of the butlers life with the Queen and Princess Di, it also illuminates the murky ways in which Britain is run and poignantly depicts the strange ways in which some relationships founder while others endure Liz Ryan, Sunday Independent
A vivid picture of home life in the house of Windsor Robert McCrum, Observer
A mine of gems Anne Fine, Sunday Herald
Affectionate, amusing and authentic Richard Davenport-Hines, TLS
It is fascinating, lucid and will one day be respectable social history Sarah Sands, Daily Telegraph
A terrific read Ireland on Sunday
Preface
The princess died at four a.m. in a hospital in Paris on Sunday 31 August 1997. The last time I saw her was when she was waving goodbye from the back of her BMW, being driven away from the front door of Kensington Palace on Friday 15 August.
The previous day, we had been to Waterstones bookshop in Kensington High Street. We drove because time was tight, and we didnt fancy walking back with what she called her heavy reading matter: half a dozen books, hardback and paperback, on spirituality, psychology and healing. She put them in the boot and got into the front passenger seat, and we headed back to the palace so she could finish packing with assistance from her dresser, Angela Benjamin.
As we turned into the palace drive, she was in a relaxed mood. Im looking forward to a quiet holiday, good company and lots of light reading!
Her friend Rosa Monckton had hired a yacht with a crew of four to sail her and the princess around the Greek islands on a six-day Mediterranean holiday. When she returned, the princess was due to go on holiday with another female friend, Lana Marks, for a five-day break to Italy, staying at the Four Seasons Hotel in Milan. She had not intended to spend that final week of August with Dodi Al Fayed. Reservations had been made and flights booked for her to be with Lana. That holiday was cancelled at the last minute because Lanas father died suddenly, which left the princess at a loose end until the boys returned to Kensington Palace on 31 August. She accepted Dodis offer to spend more time with him on the Jonikal, cruising around the French Riviera and Sardinia.
Before she flew out to join Dodi, she would be back at the palace for one day, on 21 August, but I wouldnt be there because I had deliberately booked my family holiday to Naas, in the Republic of Ireland, to fit in with the princess. As she finalized her packing on 15 August to head off to the airport, I was sharing that demob-happy feeling as I waited with Rosa inside KP. We must do something about this one. Hes not right for her, you know that. Will you do what you can? I asked her. I knew that the princess would listen to Rosa, and I sensed that Rosa shared my concern, because this one was Dodi. Rosa nodded and smiled. She understood.
The princess had been fussing around in the sitting room, tidying her desk, putting the wastepaper bin out in the landing to be emptied, checking her shoulder-bag. As the two friends came down the stairs to leave, she stopped half-way down and went through her crosschecking routine, thinking aloud: Passport, phone, Walkman
I was leaning on the wooden banister, looking up at her. She was wearing a simple Versace shift dress. Do you know? I said. Ive never seen you looking as good. You look perfect. You dont need the sunshine look at your tan already! and she skipped down the stairs, smiling.
We went through into the inner hallway. Hang on to that a minute. She thrust her shoulder-bag into my hands and disappeared into the ladies room. Within minutes, she was ready to go. She stepped out into the sunshine and into the rear passenger seat of the BMW as the chauffeur started the engine. I pulled out and stretched the seatbelt, then leaned across her to fasten it. If you have a chance to ring me, you will, wont you? she asked me.
Of course, I said, having arranged that week for her mobile telephone to be allocated a new number that only a handful of people would know.
Have a nice time, Paul.
I walked back to the doorstep, and the princess waved. I watched the BMW turn left and out of sight. She was heading for Heathrow and an aeroplane to Athens.
The Burrells joined Marias side of the family, the Cosgroves, on a four-day holiday in Naas. We visited Kilkenny Castle and then the village where the BBC series Ballykissangel was filmed, visiting the famous Fitzgeralds pub. I was under strict orders from Maria to forget about work and the princess. This is a family holiday and family time, she said.
The only problem was that I had promised the princess I would ring. Four days of no contact would be noticed by the Boss, so I found myself making excuses to go for long walks.
The princess was on the deck with Rosa when I rang. She told me how sunny and hot it was. I told her how wet and miserable the Republic of Ireland was. She had completed a book on spirituality and was tackling a new one already, she said. I hung up, promising to speak to her again when I was back at my home in Farndon, Cheshire, and she was on the Jonikal with Dodi. I told Maria that the long walk had done me a power of good.