Err, I'm back. Briefly.

Forgive me if this gives you whiplash. No sooner had I pressed publish on my last post,  signalling time for a blogging break, that I realised my mind was swirling with thoughts that I couldn’t possibly not blog about. So here I am.

You see a friend has recently suffered an indecent and flagrant invasion of her privacy and I am incensed and saddened on her behalf. It matters not that this friend knows nothing about me or indeed that I exist. Because none of those minor details have dimmed my horror and sorrow over the past few days. It is hard to watch someone you care about, however odd or misguided that care may seem, be let down.

I am, of course, referring to the Duchess of Cambridge. And I will say from the outset I think she has been let down. Badly. Let's start with the facts. Whilst on a private holiday with her husband, in a private home, she enjoyed some private pool time. During that time she removed her bikini top. Little did she know that 1.6 miles or 2 kilometres away there was a photographer hiding in the trees, snapping away at her every move with a super lens. I have heard many people say 'She should have been more careful!', 'She should always expect photographers to be there', and even 'She would have known'.

I disagree. As a bystander, admittedly one with an unfounded level of familiarity and inexplicable perceived affinity with the Duchess and her Duke, my take is this. They are a private couple with a very public life. From the outside it looks like they manage this dichotomy adeptly. When duty calls, and it frequently does, they are smiling, gracious and professional. They execute their public responsibilities with warmth and enthusiasm. And, I understand that the rest of the time they seek out privacy and relative normalcy. Since they got married the public component of their lives has obviously increased as has the insatiable appetite to scrutinise their every move. But even with that they have avoided controversy.

The Duchess has now been in the public eye for nearly nine years. In that time, even with photographers tailing her every move, there has not been one scandalous image of her taken. No drunken antics, no nudity, no drug taking, nothing remotely illicit. And I don't think that is by accident. Which is precisely why I refuse to entertain the possibility that she was aware a photographer might be capturing her by the pool in France.

And neither should she have. I absolutely believe they are entitled to privacy; to have time when they can live like no one is watching. If they chose to cavort by a pool in a plush resort open to the public (albeit at a very high cost) I would understand photographers being there to capture the moment. But they weren't. They were in a private home enjoying what they thought was some time to themselves before embarking on their joint tour of Asia and the pacific. How humiliated and violated they must have felt after discovering their private time was nothing of the sort.

I can't imagine how heavy the burden of public scrutiny feels on the shoulders of two people my age, particularly knowing that interest is never ever going to subside. I can only imagine the way they manage it is by courting and relishing their privacy whenever they can. And in that regard my final point is this. 

Remember when you were little and you stayed with, or even just visited, family friends or relatives who were really strict and formal? And do you remember the utter liberation you felt on returning home or going outside, being free to roam, run amok and frankly let it all hang out? I remember that feeling very clearly. I can only hazard a guess that it is multiplied exponentially for Kate and Will, when they have just finished three million formal functions in a week and they realise they can escape the public gaze for a few days. 

Frankly if I was them I would be so deliriously drunk with joy every time a blank space came up in my diary, that if photographers were there to capture the moment it might not be pretty. Wouldn’t you do something a bit crazy? At the very least, eat ice cream in your underwear while dancing to Roxette???

If you are tempted to indict my friend for being reckless I just ask for a modicum of sympathy. As far as public humiliation goes, can you visualise anything worse than discovering your private time had been photographed and shared with the world? And not just that but instead of being able to quietly retreat with your family or friends, you have to continue on a very public tour, fronting the media and great crowds, for every waking minute for the next week?  

Ok. That’s me. Where do you stand?