Christmas can be a tricky time for families, especially if one’s is not exactly what you might call normal. That said, what family is? We are all complicated in our unique ways, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still love, respect and care for each other.
For example, I’m separated from the father of my two children, Michael Gove. We filed for divorce in 2021, after more than 20 years together. But that doesn’t mean we hate each other. Far from it. In fact, I would venture to say that we rub along far better now that we are no longer married.
And far from resenting him, I find myself wishing him every happiness. It’s partly selfish, of course: after all, it’s in my interest for our children to have a happy dad. But I also genuinely mean it. We may not be together, but we will always be family, however wonky.
Some people struggle with this idea. This weekend, when a tabloid newspaper gleefully published snatched photos of Michael indulging in a rather involved PDA with his new(ish) significant other at J Sheekey, a restaurant in London’s Covent Garden, several friends sent messages of sympathy. One, bless her, woke me up in the middle of the night with a hug emoji.
This weekend, a newspaper published photos of Michael indulging in a rather involved PDA with his new(ish) significant other at a restaurant in Covent Garden
Several friends sent messages of sympathy. One woke me in the night with a hug emoji
I am, of course, deeply appreciative of my friends’ concern for my wellbeing. And I understand why they might think that I, an ageing 57-year-old singleton who spends more time with her animals than other humans and who is usually in bed by 9:30pm, might feel sad at the sight of my ex kissing a raven-haired beauty half my age in a glamorous West End seafood restaurant. But they needn’t worry so much: I’m a big girl. And besides, I’ve always hated lobster.
Truth is, happiness never comes from other people’s misery. Jealousy and revenge are pointless and destructive. Once you understand that, then family can be anything – and anyone – you want it to be.
You just need the three cs: communication, compromise, compassion. Not my words, but Sarah Ferguson’s – Prince Andrew’s long-suffering ex. Another woman who clearly feels similarly indulgent – if that’s the correct word – towards her former husband as I do towards mine.
In a recent interview, she describes him as ‘the best; a great man with a great heart, and kind’. It’s an image of the man that many might find at odds with his public perception. But as someone whose own ex has had more than his fair share of public trials (albeit not on a similar scale to Andrew’s), I know full well how the lenses of politics and social media can obscure the full picture.
It doesn’t help, of course, that Andrew is so spectacularly dunderheaded, as his recent travails with the Chinese spy show. But, personally, I’ve always felt that Andrew was always more sad than bad; a victim of his own arrogance, entitlement and stupidity rather than deliberately malicious.
He’s clearly not someone who has a particularly strong moral compass, and certainly very little self-awareness. He is easily led by wily or opportunistic individuals and absurdly susceptible to false flattery, which is why he was such a perfect target for the Chinese. Literally, their useful idiot.
At the end of the day, though, for all his many flaws, he has – somehow – managed to raise two children, Eugenie and Beatrice, who clearly love him very much despite it all. They also seem, at least as far as we can tell, to be relatively functional humans. And then, of course, there’s Fergie.
It would have been so easy of her to jump on the Andrew hate-wagon and distance herself from all his misdemeanours; instead, she’s stuck by him, even though they’ve been divorced far longer than they were ever married.
Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York, with Prince Andrew at Royal Ascot in 2019
Of course, a cynic would say it’s easy when the quid pro quo is that you get to live at Royal Lodge in Windsor – but I get the sense that she really means what she says about him, even if he himself doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to see it.
Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that she knows how desolate it feels to be utterly alone in the world – a feeling that Prince Andrew, after his many cock-ups, is now having to get used to. Her mother left home for another man when she was 11, taking her horses but not her two children; Fergie later ended up caring for her father. ‘I was left to look after a sad man,’ she says, ‘which is sort of what I’m doing now.’
There’s a kindness in that sentiment that I can’t help but admire; a genuine generosity of spirit but also a strength and tenacity that some might find surprising. Then again, she learnt from the master: Queen Elizabeth II, with whom she remained close, right until the very end. Of their relationship, she says, ‘The Queen was much more my mother than my mother was. I called her Mumma. She never let me down, even if I let her down. Even through the darkest days, she never left me.’
Perhaps that’s why she feels such an obligation to Andrew: it’s her way of repaying the Queen for all her kindness. And, of course, for bequeathing her the beloved corgis. Either way, it’s very much in the spirit of the season. We should all strive to be more Fergie. And happy Christmas!
