Prince William (50 page)

Miguel had been writing a press release about the finer details of lace when William phoned him. He would normally have phoned Jamie, but he was with his son at the Goring Hotel (six-year-old Billy had been chosen as a page boy) around the corner, which the Middletons had taken over for the wedding. William said he wanted to go outside and see people who had been there for a couple of days now. He said he thought it would be a really nice thing to do. ‘It was one of those moments when I thought, God, why didn't I think of that? It's a really obvious thing to do. “Of course,” I said. “Have you told the police?” And he said he hadn't but they would be fine with it.” He duly told them he would be going out in five minutes, and they ran around and made it happen. Those moments define him; it was completely his idea.'

The wedding was everything everyone could have dreamed of, and more. A masterpiece of vision and precision, a musical feast to tingle the spine, the very best of ancient and modern performed by two choirs, one orchestra and two fanfare teams – and William and Kate's favourite hymns, rousing numbers that everyone knew. It was a massive, joyful celebration that the whole country could feel a part of, and a skilful mixture of old and new. It was everything it set out to be. It was a day of huge enjoyment for millions of people. Traditional British pomp and ceremony at its very best, instantly shared with the nation on YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and Flicker. A spectacle to equal any of the grandest occasions of the last century, executed with heart-warming touches of informality. The most public event of the decade, beamed as it unfolded to billions of viewers throughout the world, and magically allowed to feel like an intimate and private gathering.

The public were very much a part of it – the diehards who had camped out in the Mall and around the Abbey were joined by hundreds of thousands of day-trippers and the streets and parks were full of them. But there was no mistaking the feeling that it was William and Kate's day, no mistaking the happiness
that radiated from them both, and no doubting that this was anything other than a love match. It was an astonishing achievement, but somehow they managed to blot out the world. Their faces, and the jokes and asides, said it all; strip away the finery, and they could have been any couple, from any walk of life, madly in love and excited by the prospect of dedicating their lives to each other. Their happiness was infectious. Nineteen hundred people inside the Abbey were lit up by it; thousands outside, watching on giant screens as the couple smiled at each other, let out great cheers as they were pronounced man and wife, and, I'm prepared to bet, so did millions more watching on their televisions at home.

The doors to the Abbey opened at 8.15 a.m. for the general congregation, and as the morning wore on, the guests became more royal and recognisable, the hats and the outfits more exotic. They provided plenty of fodder for the teams of running commentators broadcasting non-stop throughout the day. The last couple to arrive before the bride's party were the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh, whom the Prince of Wales kissed on both cheeks, before they all went to their seats. After William's discussion with the Queen, the guest list featured many more friends than strangers – including the postman, publican, butcher and village shopkeepers from Bucklebury, and the barman from Mustique where the Middletons, and William with them once or twice, holidayed. It broke down to more than a thousand friends. There were over fifty members of the Royal Family, and another forty foreign royals, more than two hundred members of government, Parliament and the diplomatic corps; eighty or so people from William's charities, sixty Governors-General and Realm Prime Ministers and thirty members of the defence services, and a sturdy collection of archbishops and other faith leaders. Among the more famous faces were David and a very pregnant Victoria Beckham, Rowan Atkinson, Sir Elton John and Joss Stone. Tara Palmer-Tomkinson was there and Harry's on-off girlfriend, Chelsy Davy, who was said to have helped him with his best man's speech.

Inevitably there were people who expected to be invited but weren't, and some for whom the invitation was a big surprise, like William's search and rescue team at Valley, and Charlie and Tiggy, landlords from the Vine Tree at Norton. But two rather more notable figures were missing from the list that went out to the press the week before the wedding: two former Labour prime ministers, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown – while it was known that Baroness Thatcher and Sir John Major, both Conservatives, had been invited. For several days the press analysed the possible reasons for the ‘snub', while St James's Palace defended the decision; the wedding was not a State occasion, therefore there was no reason to invite former prime ministers, and that Thatcher and Major had been invited because they were Knights of the Garter and the other two were not.

‘It was a cock-up from start to finish,' says one of William's team. One of the groups he cut out of the original list sent over by the Lord Chamberlain's office were former prime ministers. A group he kept in were Knights of the Garter. What no one noticed was that Thatcher and Major were among the Knights of the Garter. Thatcher's name vanished early on because it was known she couldn't attend, which left Major as the only former prime minister. ‘No one spotted it until Roya Nikkhah from the
Sunday Telegraph
phoned one Saturday and said, “We've noticed John Major's coming and none of the others. Why is that?” I remember my heart sank.' There was talk about the private office at Buckingham Palace getting in touch with their private offices with a last-minute invitation but Tony Blair then gave an interview saying he was very happy not to be invited and had never expected it. By that time, everyone in the Prince's office agreed it would be too humiliating and awkward to invite them. ‘That was the only cock-up – and one thing had to go wrong.'

Harry, best man and keeper of the ring, looked immaculate in his Blues and Royals uniform (recently promoted to captain), and helped keep the mood light and informal in the midst of such formality. As Kate and her father and her posse of small attendants
began their procession up the aisle to Hubert Parry's soaring anthem, ‘I Was Glad', Harry took a peek over his shoulder, to the amusement of the congregation, then turned to his brother, presumably to reassure him she was on her way. The brothers had arrived forty-five minutes early so that they could chat to friends and relatives. It was all so different from their parents' stiffly formal wedding at St Paul's thirty years earlier.

Kate could scarcely keep the grin off her face. William was right: she did look beautiful, and her father was a pillar of strength by her side. As they stood alongside William and Harry, and William whispered to Mike, it was clear that he was already like a second son to him. She seemed oblivious to the illustrious figures in the congregation or the television cameras trained on her face. She had eyes for no one but William, and if she felt nervous in front of such a huge audience, she certainly didn't show it.

The dress – Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen – was a triumph of close-fitting satin and lace, with a nine-foot train, and with it she wore a veil made of layers of ivory silk tulle with a trim of hand-embroidered flowers. It was held in place by a Cartier ‘halo' tiara, loaned to her by the Queen. Her bouquet was full of symbolism: in the language of flowers, sweet William means gallantry; lily of the valley, return of happiness; hyacinth, constancy of love; and myrtle is the emblem of marriage and love. There was also ivy for fidelity, wedded love, friendship and affection. And no doubt for extra luck, one stem came from a myrtle planted at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight by Queen Victoria in 1845, and a single sprig was from the plant grown from the myrtle used in the Queen's wedding bouquet in 1947. No detail was too small.

Kate's sister, Pippa, was her Maid of Honour, also dressed in a figure-hugging Sarah Burton creation (and her bottom became an overnight sensation). It was her job to keep an eye on the four little bridesmaids: Lady Louise Windsor, 7, the Wessexes' daughter; the Hon. Margarita Armstrong-Jones, 8, the Linleys' daughter; Grace van Cutsem, 3, Hugh and Rose's daughter
and William's goddaughter; Eliza Lopes, 3, the Duchess of Cornwall's granddaughter; and two page boys, Billy Lowther-Pinkerton and Tom Pettifer, Tiggy's son and William's godson. Both looked very smart in their little scarlet uniforms.

William was impeccably dressed in the same scarlet. It was the uniform of an Irish Guards Officer, with a blue Garter sash and star, RAF wings and Golden Jubilee medal. He had been uncertain about which uniform to wear, entitled as he is to wear all three services', but in February the Queen had appointed him to the honorary rank of Colonel of the 1st Battalion Irish Guards – his most senior military appointment. Where he wavered, she did not. ‘I was given a categorical: “No, you'll wear this!”' he told Robert Hardman. ‘So you don't always get what you want [from the Queen], put it that way. But I knew perfectly well that it was for the best. That “no” is a very good “no”. So you just do as you're told!'

Richard Chartres wisely made no mention of fairytales in his address, although there were echoes of Diana in the choice of some of the music and hymns. He said that, ‘In a sense every wedding is a royal wedding with the bride and groom as King and queen of creation, making a new life together so that life can flow through them into the future.' He ended by reading a prayer that he said William and Kate had composed together in preparation for the day.

‘God our Father, we thank you for our families; for the love that we share and for the joy of our marriage. In the busyness of each day keep our eyes fixed on what is real and important in life and help us to be generous with our time and love and energy. Strengthened by our union help us to serve and comfort those who suffer. We ask this in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.'

They walked down the aisle together grinning at familiar faces, man and wife (albeit one who had chosen not to ‘obey'), but also Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge – a gift from the Queen. She also gave him Scottish and Northern Irish titles – the Earl of Strathearn and Baron Carrickfergus – but
Cambridge was the one he would be commonly called. But if the thousands of fans that greeted them in Canada a couple of months later are anything to go by, for most people they will always be simply Will and Kate.

PARTY AT THE PALACE

What thousands of people had come to see was the kiss on the Buckingham Palace balcony, and it was duly delivered. Not once, but twice, which made the new Duchess giggle and the five hundred thousand or so well-wishers packed into the Mall below, and the thousands more watching it on the big screens in the parks, whoop and cheer with delight. Overhead, the sky was filled with aeroplanes as a Lancaster, Spitfire and Hurricane from the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight and RAF Tornados and Typhoons flew past in formation. For the newly-weds, the nerve-racking parts of the day were over. From now on, it was party time.

Inside the Palace their 650 lunch guests awaited them, happily nibbling canapés and admiring the Old Masters on the walls. This first reception was for a mixture of friends, including many of the parents of friends, family and people from William's official life. They were all bussed over from the Abbey, and William and Kate worked the rooms to make sure that they had a word with all those people not staying for the dinner in the evening. There were speeches; Prince William spoke charmingly about his beautiful bride and thanked his grandmother for her generosity in hosting the reception. Those who knew the Queen had seldom seen her so happy. One described her ‘playful', another said she was ‘literally skipping'. She had taken a very personal hand in it. Every detail was run past her, the precise canapé menus, the wines, the arrangement of the rooms. She walked through them all and checked that everything was in order, and had many meetings with the Master of the Household about it. She
genuinely saw it as her party and she wanted her guests to have the best time possible.

The Prince of Wales humorously reminisced about the groom as a teenager, shut in his room playing his music at full blast for hours on end and refusing to come out. And he talked about the two-fingered response he used to get from him whenever he tried to give him advice about the clothes he wore, or when he told him to stop slouching. But for the guests, it could have been any father of the groom affectionately ribbing his son, and there was no doubting the affection.

When the speeches were over and the cakes cut and the champagne drunk, everyone was asked to go into the gardens at the back of the Palace to see the couple off. And there waiting for them, to everyone's surprise, was his father's dark blue Aston Martin DB6 Mk II, with a few adjustments courtesy of Harry. It was festooned with heart-shaped balloons and coloured streamers and rosettes, with an L plate on the front and a new number plate on the back – JU5T WED.

As far as the public knew, the day for them had finished with the kiss. So when the Aston Martin appeared, nosing its way slowly out of the Palace gates at 3.35 p.m., with William at the wheel and Kate beside him, those still milling around outside went mad. They'd watched the procession earlier with William and Kate in a 1902 State Landau, followed by all the King's horses and all the King's men, and the sight of them smiling and waving from an open-topped classic car – just like any other newly-weds – was sensational. But the new Duke and Duchess had their own surprise in store. As they crept slowly along the Mall to Clarence House, a yellow Sea King helicopter appeared and hovered noisily just a few feet over their heads – a tribute from the RAF to a fellow search and rescue pilot.

It had been William's idea to borrow the car and his father loved the idea. The person he had really wanted to surprise was Kate, but someone pointed out that she would need to be able to fit into it wearing her dress and only she knew how long the train
was, so she was let in on the secret. But the car is very old and very tricky and William is not familiar with it. His greatest worry was that he would drive it out into the Mall in front of two billion people … and stall it. But it was not to be.