Thoughts and prayers for the hummingbirds and bees of Montecito – who will coo over them in photo ops now? Who will tour fire zones in disaster-chic cream cashmere? Will the balloon arch inflater get a seat on the plane? So many questions sparked by news of Harry and Meghan’s return to the UK that it’s hard to know where to start.
Maybe with the schadenfreude. Writ large. The Sussexes made such a song and dance about leaving England to make their own way in the world during 2020’s Megxit, and now they’re slinking back to the place and family they torched to anyone who would listen.
Which brings us to what’s behind it. What’s changed. Is the royal family not racism adjacent any more? Is Britain suddenly safe enough that Harry – who sued his father’s government over taxpayer funded security – can, hey presto, not just visit but get a house and enrol the kids in school?
Either the danger was never quite as advertised, or solvency concentrates the mind. Whatever, the most surprising thing is how long it’s taken them to cop to reality.
I’m desperate to know how the Waleses are taking it. Ropeable, I reckon. William and Harry are bitterly estranged and Kate surely thought she’d seen off her arch nemesis. Now Meghan is moving back onto her turf – the polo, the charities, the first-day-of-school photos, probably Wimbledon. Because it’s hard to believe this is just for a change of scene. The Sussexes will want in on the royal action. It’s their last roll of the dice.
Were I a betting woman, I’d wager this was planned for ages. Meghan leaves nothing to chance, particularly optics. Although King Charles reportedly only got the courtesy call on Sunday that his grandkids will be around the corner and possibly up for sleep-overs.
Harry and Meghan’s version for why this, why now, writes itself. He blabbed he didn’t know “how long” his cancer-stricken father “has left”, and said he wanted his kids to know and experience the place where he grew up.
This will be their narrative. Except the father he’s moving closer to heads the family he monstered, the institution his wife belittled by pantomiming her curtsy to the late Queen as though manners and tradition and respect for the Crown – which bankrolled much of Harry’s existence since birth – were quaint anachronisms.
For mine, the real motive is simpler. Oh no, the money’s running out.
Harry’s stonkingly rich by your standards and mine but not by Montecito’s, let alone Meghan’s female-founder-billionaire dreams.
The $20 million he inherited from his mother Diana and the Queen Mother is chump change, the Netflix and Spotify deals have shrivelled, reports vary about the success of Meghan’s jam and those interminable dried flower “sprinkles”.
Meanwhile, Harry’s freshly lost case against a UK tabloid’s publisher could see him owing millions in costs. His job as CEO of a life coaching academy won’t fund it. Crunch time.
Imagine the war gaming over late-night chai lattes, realising they would have to push aside the broccoli wreaths and eat humble pie.
So back to old Blighty it is. Not for salaries, which – to Meghan’s documented astonishment – royals don’t get, but for cachet. Proximity to royalty. Perhaps Dad might chip in for the house given he’ll get to see the kids.
H and M must be rubbing their hands: no more dopey wellness days in Coogee to take advantage of, no more grifting (as the Spotify boss put it), no more flogging the same sad story to diminishing returns.
They’ll be hoping for the Christmas church walk at Sandringham, Harry bounding out of cars to do the glad-handing he was born for, back doing the banter with the homies. As ever, Meghan will have plans about how to leverage the move, and what they’re really desperate for is relevance. They need to relaunch a brand that curdled into self-obsession and grievance.
One last prediction. Give it a year before Meghan starts musing aloud that Althorp was Diana’s home too, and that a certain island grave really belongs to Harry. Earl Spencer, mate, change the locks.
Kate Halfpenny is an author and the founder of Bad Mother Media.
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