The Surprising Shame of a Seated Priest

Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of British scandal, ad-free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app. This episode contains strong language. Listen to discretion is advised. I'm so glad you're here, Matt. I do need a little bit of help if that's okay. Yeah. I'm going on a first date and I've sort of run out of ideas. And he's something cool, fun, like I've made an effort, but it's also kind of cash. Yeah, you don't want to appear to have made too much effort. Exactly. Okay. Vegas. Does that just seem a little bit flash potentially? Good point. Good for Maldives. Two weeks in a luxurious water bungalow. Paradise all inclusive and you get to swim with reef sharks, turtles and stingrays. I think for me that might be a little on the intense side. What did you and your wife do for your first date? We went on the weekchef, had a couple of points of best, and then I took a bad meat and chips in the car park. 15th of May 2018, Nottingham Cottage, Kensington Palace. Megan watches the seamstress at her feet, placing pins in the bottom of her ivory silk wedding gown. She feels a rush of excitement as she thinks of where she'll be in five days' time, walking down the aisle at St. George's Chapel, Harry waiting for her at the altar. She's brought out of the daydream by the buzz of her phone. Megan answers to the palace's head of communications. Megan, why didn't you tell us about your dad? What about him? It's just broken on TMZ that he had a heart attack six days ago and is in hospital recovering. I thought you. No, that's not true. I don't know where they've got that from. It came directly from an interview. He says he's not coming to the wedding. Megan feels sweat beat on her brow as she hangs up. This doesn't make sense. Sure, things have been strained with her father lately. But he would have told her this. Wouldn't he? She dismisses the seamstress, then scrolls down to her father's number. Things change as I'm sure we all learn over the years in the Royal Family, but for generations, royals have been dismissing the seamstress, haven't they? It's an important part of royal life, that as much as the monarchy must move and change for the times, somethings must remain, it's what the British public expect. A knot forms in her stomach as she's met with his voicemail greeting. "Dad, it's me. Please call me. If you need help, I'm here. Just call." She wipes away her tear. She's about to call Harry when. Megan? Megan feels a rush of relief as Kate pushes the door open and steps inside. If anyone can understand her predicament, it's her soon to be sister-in-law. "Hey, I'm so glad you're here. Did the calms team tell you?" But Kate cuts straight in. Charlotte's dress needs another fitting. It's way too loose around the waist. Megan blinks, thrown by her Kirkmanna, but she forces herself to stay calm. "I'm sure it's not that bad." She's really upset, Meg. It needs to be sorted. And you haven't confirmed arrangements for the page boys party yet. Megan feels her spine stiffened. She eyeballs Kate, fighting back tears. "I have bigger things to deal with right now. My dad's. I'm struggling here." Megan trails off, emotion overtaking her. Kate shuffles awkwardly. "Look, I know you've been having some family issues, and we all sympathise. But there are still certain protocols. I'm aware of the protocols. Believe me, her voice cracks. To Megan's amazement, Kate just looks angry. Just sorted out, please. Megan watches as Kate turns on her heel and breezes out. She's suddenly overwhelmed by everything that's happening. The constant vitriol in the press. Her father. The lack of support from royals like Kate. She falls to the floor gasping for breath. Catching her reflection in the mirror, hot tears roll down her cheeks. She's dressed as the perfect bride, but this is no fairy tale. It's more like a horror movie. The family she's about to marry into is cold and rigid with impossible expectations. For the first time, Megan's not sure if she will ever fit in. Or if she's about to make the worst mistake of her life. From audible originals, I'm Matt Forte. And I'm Alice Levine. And this is British scandal. We spent a bit of time with Prince Harry. We grew up in their own unique, unusual circumstances. Obviously deeply affected by the manner of their mother's death. And they're both dealt with it very differently. Do you feel like you can relate to one more than the other? Well, obviously, come on to the privilege of their position. But of course, at this point, we're really feeling sympathetic for two young men who are traumatised and in mourning because they're having to deal with their mother's death in the public eye. I don't think either of them have the emotional toolkit to deal with that. And it really feels to me like both of them could do with a lot of therapy very, very quickly. But they were kind of bumping along even though they're these really different characters. So you've got Harry who feels like he's not allowed to express his emotions in the way that he wants. It must be so painful to not be able to say, I miss her, I'm sad, and to try and kind of keep that all inside. William, you might say because he's the older brother, has more quickly and effectively developed the classics, Diff upper lip, and is kind of just swallowing it all down. So you might see Harry as the more relatable one and the more human one. But I kind of understand why William is in that position of default pragmatism. Yes, we ended the last episode with the two of them really moving in different directions. Will's is with Kate and he's cozyed up and seems happy. Harry is on his own and really in a spiral of despair, particularly after going to Paris and traveling through the tunnel where his mum died. So is there a way back to it being the days of the two of them against the world? I think no matter how much Harry wants that, that just can't happen. Obviously Kate's already in the mix, so that's changed the dynamic. We've had the whole episode with Camilla and them rejecting her and then Will's kind of betraying Harry and saying no, no, no, we need to accept her that sort of part of our duty. And Harry is lonely. He feels out on his own and he's looking for love. So I think there's going to be another disruption to the dynamic because I have a sense spoiler alert that this episode we might feel the true impact of Mega Markle. We might indeed. This is episode two, The Fab Four. Two years earlier, 1st of July 2016, Kensington Palace. Harry shuffles through the Rauti and Sidegate, grocery bag in hand. He belines for the grand Georgian facade of apartment 1A, Williams family home, feeling a rush of sentimentality. Things have been so strained between them lately, so distant. But this is the perfect moment to reconnect. He pulls an old line King DVD from his jacket. He's looking forward to surprising him with it on the day they always mark together. Mummy's birthday. He's not the most appropriate thing to watch because it's the death of a parent and then a rivalry between two relatives that gets pretty pretty flipping nasty. And there's a stampede. So yeah, it just doesn't feel like the right mood. He stops sharply at the site of Willie walking a distinctive silhouette through the door. Granny. A two-year-old Prince George grasps at her gloved hand with daughter Charlotte totalling behind. Has Willie even remembered the date? Harry's startled by a tap on the shoulder. He turns to find one of the palace caretakers behind him. Can I help you with something, sir? Harry looks down at his bag in his hand. Now painfully self-conscious about the ready-mail and four-packet contains. No. Might be a Charlie Bingham's mine, it probably is, yeah. It'll be a posh ready-mail, but still you do expect better of the royals. And in a way, I want them to be doing better than ready-mills. If you're going to live that life, go for it. But also, who's taught them to cook? Oh my god, even the butler would have to microwave it for them. Can you imagine as a grown person being shown how to use the microwave? So I'd peel the lid back, but then I'd peel the lid. Why not just take the lid off? No, it has to stay over it. It contains some of the heat. How many fork holes? It, you go by vibe. He quickly turns and trudges back to his much smaller cottage. Inside, he pierces the plastic on his teacum masala and tosses it into the microwave. Then he slumps in front of the TV, flicking to a friend's repeat. He mimics Chandler, parrot fashion. I'm coming up 30 years behind him, but the stubs are all the same. Bittersound, a loneville, hermit junction. He sighs to himself, takes his phone out. Begins scrolling mindlessly through Instagram. He sees so many gorgeous women, but who wants to go out with a washed up almost middle-aged spare? He's just about to put his phone down when he spots something that catches his attention. A friend with a ram around a woman he's not seen before. Framed with a filter giving her floppy dog ears. He studies her sparkling eyes and wide smile. She's beautiful, but it's more than that. Something deeper, even familiar about her. He messages his pal. Who's that? The reply comes quickly. Megan, she's an actress. In town for a few days and single. Want me to hook you up? Harry stares at his phone. Every instinct screams caution. But for some inexplicable reason, he knows that if he doesn't take this chance, he'll regret it for the rest of his life. Could this happening on Mummy's birthday be a sign? So before he can stop himself, he types, why not? Two days later, Dean Street Townhouse London. Megan Markle weaves between the leather armchairs and low tables of the exclusive So-Her-Members Lounge. She settles into a maroon tub chair in the corner and flags down a passing waiter. Ice-water please? Still. Megan checks her reflection in her phone. She's relieved to see her long brown hair is remained frizz free despite the city's humidity. She brushes down her navy jacket, which she's paired with a simple white t-shirt, then tries to study her hand as she lifts the water glass to her lips. Megan opens a text, "Running late. Car stuck in traffic." And nerves turn to irritation as she tosses her phone onto the table. This was a bad idea. Since her brief marriage ended three years ago, she swore off men and vowed to concentrate on her role in the TV drama Soots. But when her friend asked if she'd go on a date with Prince Harry, how could she say no? Have you seen Soots? I haven't. It's quite a so-pe, legal drama. On the softer side, on the fun side, and she plays Rachel Zane, an impressive young paralegal who's working her way to the tab. It's very watchable. And is she a good actor? She's fine, yeah. I guess it's not a role that would be given to Daniel Day Lewis. There's not loads to work with. 20 minutes later, still eyeing the door. Megan wishes she hadn't bothered. Her phone pings again. Still stuck. Sorry. Megan starts gathering up her things. This was a mistake. What the hell could she have in common with some Downton Abbey caricature who can't even turn up on time? But as she rises from her chair, she hears a breathless voice above her. I'm so sorry. Please don't go. Megan looks up to find Harry. Face flushed. Red hair dishevelled. The traffic was crazy. I know this must seem, but I swear I'd never. It's okay. Breathe. She sits back down. Harry smiles at her, slumps in the chair opposite. He orders a beer, then leans forward. I have a conversion. Megan locks eyes with him, concerned. I've never actually seen suits. Megan splutters a laugh. Caesar relieved smile appear on Harry's face, an impish twinkle in his eyes. She hadn't expected. naughtiness. So naughty. As they start to chat, she finds herself warming up more and more. He hardly speaks about the royal family, briefly mentioning his brother. We don't speak as much as we used to. We still work together on conservation projects. Sometimes the hour's slipped by. Yeah, well, with that kind of chat, I mean, you would be barely looking at your watch. Must be odd going on a date with the royal, because you know so much about them. God, this is such new information. So cool. Tell me more. Right, so if. that's not my first day, but let's say we would get married. I would then be. would I be a princess? Was that how it works? And do you feel like you're running out of time to find someone? Let's talk about something else. Talk to me about Duchess and Duke Dins. Yeah, and can I just. I'm just in the techno. That doesn't include tax breaks. Right, and land. Cool. Another ice water, please. The next thing Megan knows, the room's dim lights bright and sharply. Megan looks around to see the places practically empty. Oh my god, it's nearly midnight. I have an early flight. Can I. see you again? Megan quickly looks at her diary, as Harry pulls out his own eye-cow. I'm in Toronto for three weeks filming. Maybe after that? I'm in Botswana by then. Megan's size disappointed. But then she sees a grin form on Harry's face. Come with me. Megan blinks. To Botswana? What? I'm sorry, this is a big no for me. Second day in Botswana. I don't care if you're the Prince of England. Yes, and although this may sound mad to the rest of us, this is not the first date that Harry has taken to Botswana. Megan would actually be the fourth woman that he has taken to Botswana on a date. Stop it. This is his move. This is classic second day move. Harry leans forward looking totally serious. I could show you the conservation work we're doing. Megan's head spins. She would never usually be so impulsive. But looking into those eyes, she sees only hope and nerves and utter sincerity. Megan decides to throw caution to the wind with this Prince charming and see where it takes her. One month later, Menno Aquena Botswana. Harry can't keep his eyes off Megan as she stares in awe at the giraffe silhouetted against the amber sky. He grins. He still can't believe she's here sharing this with him. Spotting a new shape in the distance, he leans in closer and points. That's a red-letchery antelope. They're very rare. Only found in specific wetland areas. Harry's throwing everything at making the trip perfect since they arrived this morning. He's even done extensive research on the wildlife in an effort to impress. If you look at the markings, you'll see. But he trails off. As Megan's attention instead focuses on a small group of park ranges, setting up equipment they were watering hole. She shouts to the driver. Can we start? Harry inwardly curses. As Megan jumps out and introduces herself to the group, she crouches down to chat to a little boy. What's your notebook for? It's for the elephants. I love elephants too. Can you show me? Harry feels a lump form in his throat. Megan's ease with the child is achingly familiar. The kind of thing Mummy used to do. He swallows as Megan returns from chatting to the family. His family are documenting elephant migration patterns. Would it be okay if I asked them to join us for dinner? Harry's mind flashes to the five-course candlelit meal he's planned, followed by a couple's massage. But seeing the light in Megan's eyes. Of course. By the time dinner's done and they head to their campsite it's late. Megan pulls a blanket from the tent and places it down near the fire that's been built for them. She pats the space next to her, grinning. Tell me what this place means to you. Why it's so special? It's not that special really. I always sound sick of it. I'll give you the PDF it's quicker. I first came here a few weeks after my mum died. It felt. I don't know. Like here I had so much to look at. It got me out of my head. Harry glance us over at Megan. She saw Wipe a tear from her cheek. She was really into conservation projects like the one we talked about at dinner. I want to do more. But Will's has bagged Africa as his thing. Why can't you both have it? Harry blinks, startled by her directness. She chuckles. It doesn't really work like that. Megan takes Harry's hand. So changing. Shake things up a bit. Of course you idea. Why don't you guys lay claim to a place that you have no business in being an absolute first for British rulers? Let's just throw the rule look at the window. Harry grins. The rebel in him stirring for the first time in years. He loves this girl's hotspot and he's been looking for a way to get closer to Will's again. He takes a deep breath and shuffles closer as he leans in. Kisses Megan. All the fears of the last few years seem to melt away. Harry starts to let his imagination run wild. Him and Megan go for cozy dinners with William Kate at Kensington Palace. Their children playing together. He's met the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Now he can't wait to introduce her to the family. October 2016. Apartment 1A. Kensington Palace. It's very man of the people to live in a flat, isn't it? One A makes it sound small but this is a 20 room 4 floor property with its own walled garden. William walks down the bright hallway and pulls open the door to see his grinning brother beside a pretty petite woman in jeans and a slouchy sweater. His cheeks redden. He feels overdressed in his iron chinos and crisp white shirt. "Wells, I've heard so much about you." Willem's about to reach his hand out when she steps forward and pulls him in for a hug. His body stiffens. Over her shoulder, Harry eyeballs him and mouths relax. "I managed to rustle up some tea." William rushes them in, picks up a nearby jar full of biscuits. Hobnob? "A what now?" The hurls favourites. "I tried a limit sugar, but I'd love a coffee." Not a great start. "I'm imagining her saying, 'Do you have any water, Mellon? Dusted with cinnamon?' That's actually one of her favourite snacks from her show." "I like to individually wrap each piece of water, Mellon, in a little pouch and then kiss it." Willem forces a smile as he rummages in the cupboard for his caffity air. A cock-a-spinal bounds in and launches himself at Megan. "Well, hello there, gorgeous!" As the dog licks Megan's beaming face. William softens. "That's Lupo. He's very discerning. He clearly likes you." He watches them settle down at the kitchen table, and as Megan starts to chat away, William notes Lupo isn't the only love-sick puppy in the room. He's never seen Harry look at anyone the way he gazes at this girl. It's adorable and unnerving. "Harry tells me you went to Botswana on your second date." "I've never heard about him taking anyone there, wink wink." "But also it is in Africa, and that is mine." Harry nods enthusiastically as Megan beams at him, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "It got us thinking. There's so much more a has to do over there. The platform he has, the access." William smiles stiffens. His brothers know this girl for a month, and she's reorganising his duties. "Oh, well, perhaps has, and I can put our heads together." The moment Megan's gone, Harry stares at Will's expectant. "She's amazing, right?" William pauses. He knows he needs to choose his words carefully. "She seems great." He stops when Harry sighs. "But?" "It's such early days. She's very American, and what do you really know about her?" He sees Harry roll his eyes. "She's kind. She's smart. She cares about the same things I do. What else do I need to know?" "I just think, taking your time." Harry snaps back. "Yeah, because that made way too cakey so happy. I'm not having a bloody 10-year engagement." "Engagement?" Watching Harry scowl and grab a hobnob, William realises he's handled this wrong. "Listen, unsurief overstepped. Megan's great." He's relieved to see Harry relax a little. His smile returning, as he reaches for another biscuit. He really does like Megan, and she's clearly devoted to Harold. But she also has no sense of how their world works, and a confidence bordering on cocky. Will's realises the best way to protect his brother, and the family's reputation, is to keep a careful eye on this new girl and help her avoid any missteps. If Megan is going to stay, he'll just have to do all he can to help her become one of them. I'm Indravama, and in the latest season of The Spy Who, we open the file on Larry Chin, The Spy Who Outplayed Nixon. For decades, Chin was embedded deep inside US intelligence. Then comes an opportunity, Richard Nixon's secret plan to reopen relations with China. Information Chin can place directly into Mao's hands, but the CIA has a weapon of their own. A Chinese mole ready to defect, how long until Chin's gig is up. Follow The Spy Who Now, wherever you listen to podcasts. November 2016, Nottingham Cottage. Harry takes a sip of his ball-dough and grinds up Willie, who shakes his head in mock shame, as Kate makes pleading eyes at Megan. "Oh, one more, please!" Harry watches Megan as she holds her hands up in defeat, then instantly transforms into a hard-nosed paralegal. "I don't get lucky, Mike. I make my own luck." Harry swelves with pride, as Kate claps delightedly. He had no idea she was a suits superfan. She's been asking Megan to do her best Rachel's anisms all evening. He watches as Megan grabs Kate by the shoulders. "Go on, try it!" To Harry's delight, a tipsy Kate clears her throat and tries to adopt a lawyerly look. "I make my own luck." Megan and Kate both collapse into giggles. Harry winks at Willie as he clears the table. He can tell his brother is enjoying the easy atmosphere as much as he is. From the kitchen, Harry watches William answer his phone and head his way. "Pull-as-corms have been trying to get hold of you." Harry glances at his own phone on the side, sees several missed calls. He takes the phone from William and speaks to the palace's head of communications. "The express printed photos of you and Megan leaving a Halloween party in Toronto. It's out." Harry stomach lurches. He's hoped to keep his relationship quiet a bit longer. "I'll call you back." Harry looks through the doorway, takes in Megan's laughter. He turns to see a knowing look in his brother's eyes. "It'll be okay." Harry's never felt so grateful for his support as they head back into the other room. He clears his throat. "The news has broken. About me and Megan." Harry rushes over to a scared-looking Megan as she immediately takes out her phone and starts scrolling. Harry stares at an express photo of himself in a Mad Max costume, smiling beside Megan in a camouflage top and trapper hat. Harry's new girl. Everything we need to know about suit-star Megan Markle. "Now this is nice to see. Not a fantastic track record with fancy dress." "It's right. Mad Max is the most moderate individual, Prince Harry has ever dressed up us. But this is Tom Hardy's actual outfit from the film. It's not just some fancy dress version. This is Hollywood-level fancy dress." William scans the headlines. "It's all positive." Harry stays silent. He knows how quickly it can turn. He pulls Willie aside. "I think maybe I should get out on the front foot. Have a meeting with editors. Issue Claire boundaries. Christ knew. You'll just rile them." "So what? I sit back and do nothing while those vultures start to pick her apart. Like they did mommy." Harry stays on Will's. "I think your underestimating Meg has." Harry manages a small smile. "She's well known in the States. She's had media training. Christ. More than us it seems." Harry thinks about that. Megan is at ease in front of the cameras. "Maybe we could harness that. Put her front and center of one of the charity initiatives we discussed. Make them see how committed she is." William nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely. We can sit down with the comms teams tomorrow. All four of us. Come up with an action plan. Do not alone in this. We'll work it out together." Harry goes back to Megan energized, especially when he sees Kate put a reassuring arm around her. With her and Willie by their side, he sure he and Meg will soon have the British press eating out of their hands. Two weeks later, Garth Polo Club wins a great park. Harry's horse churns up divots of turf as he thunders across the field, and with a perfectly time swing of his mallet, send the ball to the goalposts. Harry looks at a grimacing William on the opposing team. He pats his brother shoulder good naturally as they head back towards the clubhouse. "Dinner tonight? Meg and I were thinking we should go over some ideas." Harry's delighted when Willie nods. These last couple of weeks have gone better than he could ever have imagined. With Harry following his brother's advice and confirming his relationship, via an authorized palace leak, Harry's even shared information on a couple of projects they all intend to work on together in Africa. Harry takes his phone out to find a message from the Palisers comms team with a link to a mail online story. He grins, assuming it's another article referring to them all as "The Fab Four". "How embarrassing. We hate it when they do that." But a children's down his spine as he reads the headline, Harry's girl is almost straight out of Compton. Then the subhead gang scarred home of her mother revealed, "I'm sorry, Harold. It's disgusting." Harry feels the bitter taste of bile hit his throat. "It's just like with mummy." He throws down his polo mallet, starts striding towards the clubhouse. Willie is step behind. "I'm going to speak out. I can't ignore don't." William snashes his phone away. Harry stops in his tracks shocked. "It's racist garbage!" "Trust me. I've been dealing with this shit longer than you." Harry glairs at Will's, his eyes are pleading. He sighs deeply and nods. But when Harry returns to notting and cottage, a tear-stained Megan is staring at the story on her laptop. "It's all about my mom's skin color, her background. I never imagined that." Megan shakes her head, disbelieving. And Harry feels his face flush with shame. "How could he let William talk him out of dealing with this as he should?" "There's so much that is wrong with this. I mean, factually it's wrong. She's not from a poor part of LA. She was privately educated. But on a more important level, everything that they're printing is just rooted in stereotypes and bigotry. I mean, this is the start of the bit trial, isn't it? But it goes on to snowball. I think a lot of it is shrouded in this objection to her being, you know, a divorcee, American sort of new age in California. She's not one of us. She's not what the royals are. She's an outsider. But I think, as we know now, a lot of that was just a mask for being horribly, horribly racist." "Someone people say, yeah, just something about it or I can't put my finger on it. I think you can, you just don't dare say it." That evening, Harry grips Meg's hand as they watch the ten o'clock news. In the unprecedented palace statement, the predicament of Prince Harry's new girlfriend is compared to the treatment of his late mother, Diana. Harry text "Willie, have you seen it?" Three dots appear, then vanish. Man, that's a horrible thing. "Oh, that's horrible. You may be a royal, but you are not protected from the three dots disappearing." Harry's chest titans as doubt creeps in. He opens Twitter. Harry's eyes linger on that last line. He loves Willie, respects him. But there's more than one way of handling this. And it's not just him anymore. It's Harry and Meghan, M and H. So he's not going to stick to the stuff he rules at the past. From now on, he's going to take a leaf out of his mum's book and do things his way. February 2018, BAFTA, Central London. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Willie gives Kate a reassuring smile as he steps onto the stage, squinting against the flashing cameras. And Prince Harry and his fiance, Meghan Markle. Willes can't help but whistle at the loud cheers greeting howling Meg. Kate is leading today's medium-range of the charity they've all been working on for the last year. And Willes was hoping it would be a chance for her to outshine Meg. She might not say it, but he knows his pregnant wife has been hurt by headlines, comparing her frumpy look to Meg's effortless glamour. It's a tell as old as time is, isn't it, pitying two women against each other? They love to do that. Yeah, whatever side you're on, obviously what Meghan is going through with the racial element is far more severe, but if you're Kate, still not nice to be talked about in this way. William leans in and whispers in Kate's ear. You look beautiful. You've got this. Willes glows with pride as she launches into her intro. These issues mean a lot to all of us. That's why the purpose of the Royal Foundation is to offer support in all kinds of mental health journeys. To William's despair, Meghan jumps in. It's also about women. They need to feel empowered to use their voice. William can tell Kate's rectus smile is hiding her irritation as Meghan continues. "I've been campaigning for this for so long. A bigger change." He tries to stop his frustration growing at her hijacking Kate's airtime, not to mention veering wildly off topic. He's relieved when the hostess intervenes. "So, William, Harry, what was the last thing you disagreed on? How did you resolve it?" William stiffens as he looks at Harry. His brother's been so outspoken this last year. He can never be sure of what he might say next. He leans into the microphone, but Harry beats him to it. "I'm not sure we have resolved it yet." William squirms. As soon as they leave the stage, he whips his mic off, drops the friendly façade. "What disagreement haven't we resolved yet? You tell me, you've been in a mood all week." Will sees Kate reach his side. Her eyes urging caution. "I heard about your request to granite, about the beard." William's anger grows as Harry chuckles and turns to a confused Meghan. "He's sulking because I've been told I can keep my beard from our wedding, when he was ordered to shave before marrying Kate." "Are you being a little bit petty?" William's face burns as he tries to gather a response, but now Kate beats him to it. "You said the same when I confronted you about using my fashion contacts." "Oh no, the floodgates are open now." "Yes, and this is very similar to the beard rivalry, so prior to the raw family, Meghan would get her outfits from her dem. But once you got involved in the raw family, Kate got first dibs on the outfits, and I think Meghan felt like Kate was trying to. "I'll stop you there. This is so silly. What are you talking about?" "Also at the level they're operating at, any designer in the world would close you. So even if Kate has, stop you wearing one designer's clothes, and that is unfair, there's a whole world of designers out there." "Also just put on a pantsuit and go cut your ribbon." "Meg's constantly under the microscope. There's no reason not to share." Will Schrols' eyes. "Grow up, Harold. Meghan's only had good publicity, and you're still whining." Will's feels Kate took his sleeve as a representative from the foundation approaches. He paints on a smile and heads over to her. "Thanks for today." "No, thank you. We couldn't have got off to a better start. The press loved seeing M&H." She quickly adds, "All of the Fab 4 in fact. William inwardly sighs. He has to face facts. With their wedding round the corner, the public has Harry and Meghan fever. And that can only give the whole institution a boost. So he'll make peace. Do his best to ensure the Fab 4 fantasy remains intact, at least until the wedding is out of the way, and he's back in the driving seat." Six months later, November 2018, Bondi Beach, Sydney, Australia. Harry Grins is a surfer spread to a colorful stripe of sunscreen over his nose. The eyes Meghan beside him puts a protective hand over her small baby bun. "Can we get a photo with the little Groms?" Harry smiles as a bunch of young surfer's gather round to pose with him. "Meghan, Meghan, Meghan, Meghan, Meghan, Meghan, Meghan, over here. You're Meghan." It's the perfect end to their first royal tour as the duken Duchess of Sussex. Harry's been taken aback by the vast crowds at every engagement. With the Australian press comparing the frenzy to the first time Harry's mum visited. The fact Meghan is four months pregnant is the icing on the cake. Two hours later, on the plane home, Harry watches Meghan snooze contentedly. He pulls out his phone, excited to see the UK coverage. Only to stare at the headlines in confusion. Duchess difficult. Palace staff in revolt. Meghan's demanding behaviour sparks palace crisis. Sussex survivors club staff exit us. This is like a coordinated attack. Bastards. Seeing Meghan stir, Harry quickly moves to the back of the plane. Makes a call. "Hey, how was the tour?" "Screw the tour. Have you seen the latest headlines?" There's a long pause. "Yo, it's not great." Not great. These are detailed briefings. Meg bullying staffers until they resign, treating aids like her underlings, making cake cry when we both know. "Well, you and I weren't there. I'm from what Kate said." Don't you fucking dare! Harry's head starts to whirl as he thinks about all the positive stories about William and Kate recently. The timing of this. It must drive you mad. All the good coverage you've been getting for this tour. That for once you're not the centre of attention. The golden boy. Don't be ridiculous. It would seem ridiculous and it would seem paranoid if there weren't multiple precedents of people within the family leaking stories to the press. I mean, we heard about Camilla selling stories about Harry's drug use to make Charles look better. This is what they do. This is just a fixture of their family dynamic. Is at any one point any core member of the family can leak mega gossip on another one and it's been going on for years. And some of it's true and some of it's not and it's just used to serve a purpose. But the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense to Harry. This is just the kind of thing your staff would do. It damage us to boost you in Kate. You've gone full fucking firm. I don't have to listen to this paranoid bullshit. The line goes dead. Harry stares at his phone filled with anger and doubt. He can't be sure Willie's behind this. It could be anyone at the palace. But his brother certainly isn't doing anything to stop it. He slowly walks back down the plane to a still sleeping Meghan. He takes in her baby bump, her peaceful face and his resolve hardens. All that matters is his new wife and family and from now on he will do whatever it takes to protect them. Even if it means calling out Willie on every move he makes. February 2019, apartment 1A Kensington Palace. William shuffles uncomfortably, barely making eye contact with Meghan and Harry, who sit across the neatly set table in silence. He relaxes a little as Kate enters with a pot of tea. This meeting was Kate's idea. A chance to clear the air and stop giving the press endless fodder about their houses being at war. Before anything else is said, I want to address the elephant in the room. Willie and Watch's Kate look directly at Meghan as she sits. The bride's made the thing. I'm so sorry. I was stressed, sleep deprived from Louis and I didn't fully understand what was going on with your father. Harry's shoulders unhunch and Meghan's lips turn up into a small smile. Thank you. That means a lot. Will's quietly excels. Confident they're back on track. But Meghan isn't done. I'd appreciate it if your office put out a statement correcting the record about what actually happened. William sees Kate's conciliatory smile or falter. He steps in. This was all months ago. People have moved on. We should too. Funny how Meg's always the bad guy. William slams his tea cup down. His old Grace spilling on the white linen tablecloth. This is a joke. We've tried our best to welcome Meg, but it's impossible when the two have used him to pedal this persecution narrative. William turns to Meghan, cutting her off before she can retort. You treat staff as like they're your Hollywood lackeys. You act as a protocol doesn't apply to you. And as for the way you speak to Catherine. Meghan looks perplexed. William stares at Kate urging her to speak. When I was pregnant with Louis and I forgot to bring round a dish she wanted to borrow. You said I had baby brain. It was very heartful. It was a throwaway comment. I'd say it to any friend. Kate isn't your friend. She's the future queen. Harry throws down his napkin. The air in all his glory. William's had enough. He stands and points directly at Meghan. This is all you. None of these problems existed before you came along. Kindly take your finger out of my face. It is very intimidating. William blinks in shock. He looks at Harry, waiting for him to tell his wife she's gone too far. But instead, come on, we're done here. As Harry leads Meghan out, a stunned William turns to Kate. She's already clearing the table. Her movement sharp with emotion. I can't leave it like that. Just give them some space. Let the dust settle. Under her glare, William nods. But when she leaves the room, he takes his phone out and texts Harry. Please, let's talk again. Just you and me. Love, will, kiss. Will he miss certain he can get through to Harry if he can just get him alone? Only then can he break the spell Meghan's cast and bring his brother back to his senses. One week later, knotting him cottage. Harry sighs as he opens the door to find William on the other side. He silently turns and walks back to the living room, dismissively waving a hand. Look, if you're going to have another go about beard or bloody baby brain, now he's not the I come in peace. I just want to talk about Meg and what's been happening. Harry feels a rush of relief. He sees Willie eye his latest source of misery on the coffee table. A spread in the mail on Sunday that features extracts from a private letter Meghan sent to her father. Right, well, I'm sure you agree this is a new low. We're going to sue. William looks confused. No, sorry, I was referring to the ongoing complaints from the staff. Harry stiffens. Christ, willie, like what? She's difficult. Rude. Abusive. Harry rolls his eyes. Did you just parroting tabloid crap? And is he because I know this made its way to the papers. But benefit of the doubt is there a world where she's talking to people in a way that maybe it is like she's on set on one of her TV shows where she's talking to a PA and she's like, you know, can you get me a match of latte or whatever. And actually that's not how the palace works. But I'm not sure I would know how to talk should the servants and staff of a royal palace. I know what the protocols are. I mean, has anyone taught or what to do? Well, that's right. You're going from one world, TV world, where people are at your beck and call. And you're going into another world where they sort of are, but it's just way more formal and equaries and footmen are not TV studio runners. You can see how at the very least a culture clash would upset some people. Yeah, it's hard to know if there's also a personality thing in the mix there as well. But if you were being a little more sympathetic, you might say, okay, let us teach you the ways. William spins around. You can't keep blindly defending her. What is it about her that scares you so much that she's American, successful in her own right? I suppose that would be quite threatening to someone whose own wife never had a real job. Harry sees the vein on Willis' temple throb as his face darkens. Don't you dare speak about Catherine like that. No one works harder. But Harry is not listening. You can't bear that makes completely out Sean, but we're the ones the public associate with mummy now. Willis face contorts and Harry knows he's gone too far. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Willis looks at him with pure hatred. Bullshit! It's time you woke up you stupid fucking prick. Harry's jolted by his brother's fury. He decides to give him some breathing space and heads into the kitchen. Hearing William's footsteps close behind him, he turns. Listen, Willis. Before he can utter another word, William grabs him by the collar. He feels the sharp pinch in his neck, realises his leather charm necklace has been ripped off. He touches his throat, tries to regroup, but now he's falling. Harry lands with a thud crashing against the ceramic dog bowl. He feels it crack beneath him, the shards cutting into the skin on his back like daggers. "Hurry, hurry." Harry stares at him, shakes his head. "Get out!" Tears prick Harry's eyes as William stumbles back. His face draining of colour. "I said, get out!" William hesitates a beat, then rushes to the door. Harry winces us as he touches his bloodstained shirt. Then he pulls up a chair, rests his head in his hands, and sobs. It's dark by the time Harry hears Meghan's key in the lock. Harry blinks rapidly, as Meghan flicks the light on, and gasps at the state of him. "What happened?" As she rushes over, and envelops him in her arms, it hits Harry like a thunderbolt. "I think we should separate from the Cambridge household. No more joint engagements or shared staff. They'll see it as a declaration of war. You do know that." Harry sits up straight. He's feeling stronger by the second. "We could leave here. Pits and real distance. From all of them." Seeing Meghan's face filled with relief, Harry has a moment of total clarity. He doesn't care if his emphasises their rift with William Kate. From now on, he's putting his family first. Even if it means screwing his brother over. Even if it means never speaking to his stupid brother again. Even if doing so could destroy the very thing he was taught to hold most dear. The British Royal Family. From audible originals and sammistat audio, this is the second episode in our series, Harry V. Wills. "A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all our dramatisations are based on historical research." If you'd like to know more about this story, you can read Spare by Prince Harry, Battle of Brothers, William Harry and the Inside Story of a Family in Tumult by Robert Lacey, and the Palace Papers by Tina Brown. You can watch Meghan vs Kate, the meeting that changed the monarchy on Channel 5, or you can watch Harry and Meghan's interview with Oprah Winfrey on ITVX. "And if you'd like to get in touch with us, you can email us at [email protected] and we love hearing from you." British scandalous host of By Me, Mapford "And Me, Alice Levine." Written by Wendy Grandeter, additional writing by Alice Levine and Mapford. Our story editor was James Maniac, sound designed by Rich Evans. Our engineer was Jai Williams. For Sammistat, our series producer was Chica Reyes. Our assistant producer was Louise Mason. Our senior producers were Joe Sykes and Dachelis Zitsina. Executive producers were audible with Theodore Leloudis and Estelle Doyle.