Excerpt from Diana by Phil Craig, Tim Clayton, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Against this it might be argued that the children were materially spoiled and, though not starved of parental affection, were perhaps given it in unpredictable doses. Diana always tended to have a dramatic side which may have been nurtured by many tearful partings and the sympathy she felt for each parent as she left to be with the other.


July 1971. Mary Clarke turned right off the Diss road and into the tree-lined avenue that led to Riddlesworth Hall. The twenty-one-year-old nanny had started at Park House in February, looking after Charles Spencer. Her other charge, nine-year-old Diana, was in her second term boarding at Riddlesworth, a prep school about an hour's drive from Sandringham, and Mary had still not met her. Now the Easter holidays had started, and Viscount Althorp had sent Mary off alone to collect Diana and bring her home. She was distinctly nervous because other staff had already told her some alarming stories about the way the children could behave:

Childish escapades such as going into the nanny or an pair's room and throwing all her clothes out of the window on to the roof, because the house is built in such a way that there's different levels of roof. And then poor old Smith would have to get up and get them down. Or else locking one of them in the toilets.

Mary didn't think she would enjoy this sort of treatment. But perhaps the older staff were just trying to tease her. She had had a wonderful time so far looking after Charles, so she had set off for Riddlesworth Hall with an open mind, hoping for the best.

I arrived at Riddlesworth and it was a typical end-of-term scenario really -- little girls standing round in their uniforms, surrounded by trunks and all their bits and pieces and in Diana's case her guinea-pig in its cage as well. And I walked towards her, because obviously I'd seen pictures of her so I knew who to took out for. And I saw this little girl walking towards me, a real English rose with her eyes downcast, and blushing furiously. And she was very polite and shook my hand and then we were able to lose ourselves in all the fuss of loading up the car.

On the way home Mary asked Diana about her school. She said what she liked best was swimming. By the time Mary got back to Park House she was reassured, and felt she had struck up some kind of understanding. She had already spent six weeks alone with Charles and was worried that Diana might feel like an outsider, something she did everything possible to avoid. Diana's room was all ready for her. As they got nearer to Park House, Diana was getting more and more excited to be home again. She asked Mary, 'How are the Smiths? And how is Mrs Petrie?' They arrived in a jumble of trunks, cages, hockey sticks and tennis rackets, and Diana went dashing off to reacquaint herself with her brother and father and all the staff at the house, as well as all the animals.


Park House is a ten-bedroom yellow-brick Victorian pile, surrounded by wide lawns and trees and close to the church that divides it from Sandringham House. It's a holiday home for old people now. To reach it you drive through the royal estate up an avenue lined with trees, then branch off on to a gravel drive with lawns on one side and the house facing you.

There, Viscount Althorp led the life of a country gentleman, with gun dogs curled up by the fire and piles of Country Life and the Field on the coffee table. Diana grew up surrounded by cats and dogs, and the precious guinea-pigs that she used to show in late July in the local flower show's 'fur and feathers' tent. She had a fierce ginger cat called Marmalade, and her bed was covered with a variety of furry toy animals. She grew nervous of horses after a fall from a pony, but she went riding with Mary Clarke in order to be with Sarah. She admired her vivacious elder sister very much. She was a healthy child who loved her food and hated wearing dresses. She liked to be outside in muddy jeans climbing trees and making dens and going for long walks with the dogs. Even as a child she had a practical side and helped Mary Clarke with housework in the nursery, which it was the nanny's responsibility to keep tidy. Housework was not Mary Clarke's strong point so when, as he did now and again, Johnny Spencer came to run a finger along a picture frame, Diana always ensured she was there before him, dusting down the pictures and tidying things up.

Copyright © 2001 by Tim Clayton & Phil Craig and Brook Lapping Productions.