Letters to a Princess Read Online Free

we compete even with that. We spend time Diana-hunting, as we call it. We collect pictures of you and we try to outdo each other and see how many we can cram on our bedroom walls. I win outright because she has to fit Brad Pitt in somewhere, whereas I only have you.
    I’m lucky because Babs has a friend who works on the checkout at our local supermarket. If a magazine is torn or creased, she saves it to give to Babs. Babs passes it on to me, and most of the time there’ll be a picture of you in it, of course. Plus, when I do my Fruit Mart job I sometimesfind magazines that are tossed out round the back, and I go through them hungry for the goss. Sorry if that sounds a bit desperate.
    Sometimes at school when we’re bored, Zoë and I go through the magazines together.
    ‘Skiing again. I wonder if we’ll run into them at Aspen, my deah?’ Zoë joked last week. We were looking at the photograph of you in the snow with William and Harry.
    ‘Aren’t those two little boys the sweetest? Actually, that one’s not so little anymore, he looks just like her. How cute!’
    It was Zoë who noticed how the magazines and papers don’t seem so much in love with you after your divorce, which is so unfair.
    ‘Doesn’t pay to be famous, Di. Absolutely does not!’ Zoë said.
    ‘We needn’t worry,’ I quipped.
    ‘Speak for yourself,’ Zoë came back at me. Zoë makes no secret of the fact that she wants to get into NIDA, the most competitive acting school in Australia. If I have dreams about being a writer, Zoë is hell-bent on becoming an actor. ‘And if I don’t make it as an actor then I’ll just have to settle for a career in modelling!’ she says. I never quite know if she’s joking or not. Probably not!
    But Zoë and I both feel sorry for you. I mean, I can’t believe the press hid and took photos of you sweating it out at the gym. No-one looks good after a hard workout!
    Anyway, I just want you to know how much support you have here in Australia. We’re all mad about you!
    Okay, I’m mad about you! And that’s the truth.
    Your Aussie fan,
    Diana Moore

4
    My second letter to Princess Diana was really a lifesaver. I told Babs about my desperate night of writing and she was so happy that I’d found a way to turn my black mood around.
    ‘You and the Princess, you have a lot in common you know,’ she said, tying a clean apron over the old striped blue dress she always wears when she’s cleaning. And not just your names either!’
    ‘Oh please!’ The idea that my life has anything in common with Princess Diana’s is ridiculous. I looked around the modest kitchen of our suburban home, at the grease-marked table, the calendar hanging askew on the wall and the faded photo of Mum and Graham on the noticeboard which nobody uses anymore. ‘How can you say that? What exactly do you mean?’ I asked Babs.
    ‘Well, you both feel things deeply and want to do good in the world.’ I wasn’t sure I’d shown this goodwillat all, except for a one-night fast for starving kids a couple of years back.
    ‘And you both have the eating problem,’ Babs kept on. ‘Now don’t get cross, Di, I know you hate my mentioning it but the Princess has overcome her problem—well, seems to have—and that means you can too. Look, dear, it’s something Martin and I want to talk about with Graham. You know it can be serious if it gets out of hand. You know you can even die of it, love! Martin read that somewhere. People become so thin, just like skeletons. Now I know you’re not like that but we think you need a bit more help. There was this young girl Martin knows of who …’
    ‘Princess Diana had bulimia, Babs,’ I interrupted. ‘That’s when you make yourself throw up. I don’t do that!’ This was a bit of a lie because I had on some occasions when I’d eaten too much and felt sick, but I didn’t do it on a regular basis.
    ‘Same thing. Well, it’s related anyway. What you’ve got can lead to what she had,’ Babs