Nature abhors a vacuum, as Aristotle said, although at the time he was probably contemplating something rather more highbrow than the fate of the former Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson.
Since disappearing from public view at the end of last year (the last official sighting was at the christening of her youngest grandchild, Athena Mapelli Mozzi, at the Chapel Royal at St James’s Palace in London), speculation has been rife about Ferguson’s whereabouts and what her next move might be.
The longer she remains out of view, the madder the theories get. Last weekend it was reported that she was involved in a plan to clone the Queen’s last two remaining corgis, Muick and Sandy, whom the late monarch entrusted to her care.
The story goes that, back in 2023, she was in talks with a TV production company to take part in a show called The Queen’s Corgis, in which she would work with scientists with the intention of selling the resulting royal replicas to wealthy clients.
A spokesman for the former duchess has since issued a firm denial regarding the project, stating that while she had indeed been in talks about fronting a show about dogs, she withdrew once she realised what they were after.
Cloning animals for commercial gain is strictly prohibited in the UK.
Of course, the problem she has is that, given her shoddy behaviour in relation to Jeffrey Epstein, people are now inclined to believe the worst of her, and with justification.
To recap, there was the ‘supreme friend’ email in 2011, sent to the late financier just after she had publicly condemned his crimes, in which she claimed she did not ‘say the p-word [paedophile]’ about him.
Do Sarah Ferguson’s catastrophic errors of judgment amount to collusion with the late paedophile, or is she just a hapless victim of her own stupidity and greed, asks Sarah Vine
Her supporters insist she only sent the message to assuage him after he threatened to sue her – nevertheless, it does her no favours, especially in the context of other emails variously praising him as a ‘legend,’ ‘my pillar’, ‘the brother I have always wished for’. At one point she even wrote: ‘I am at your service. Just marry me’.
Then there was that 2009 trip when, less than a week after Epstein had been released from jail for child sex offences, she flew to Miami with Beatrice and Eugenie, at the time aged 20 and 19, to have lunch with him (after asking him for an upgrade). Given the man’s sexual proclivities, it was a strange choice, to say the least.
But do her catastrophic errors of judgment and notable venality (we know that one of the reasons she was so keen to suck up to Epstein was that he paid off some of her many debts) amount to collusion with the late paedophile, or is she just a hapless victim of her own stupidity and greed?
Everyone has their strong opinion, but I still can’t decide. Having met her on a few occasions via mutual friends, I can’t say she has ever been anything other than perfectly civil towards me.
A little wary, perhaps, but you would expect that given what I do for a living (most people run a mile – she at least bothered to exchange pleasantries).
I once interviewed her for a podcast and she prattled on amiably about nothing very much. Without wishing to be rude, she’s not the sharpest tack in the box.
Which is why, on balance, I’ve always thought her car-crash of a life has been more cock-up than conspiracy. Possibly because in some respects the same is also true of mine.
Certainly, in all my interactions with her over the years I’ve never had the impression that beneath that honking old Sloane exterior there is an evil genius at work. In fact, very much the contrary.
Fergie and Andrew’s daughter Beatrice with her husband Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi
The then Duke and Duchess of York in June 2019, at Royal Ascot
An image released by the US Department of Justice shows Andrew on all fours over an unidentified female
What I do know about her, however, is that unlike Andrew, who cuts a sad, lonely figure, abandoned by all who once knew him and dependent on the kindness of his brother, who is not-so-secretly furious with him, Fergie still has a close coterie of friends on whom she can rely.
How else would she have remained so efficiently hidden – some might say shielded – from public view all these months?
She vacated Royal Lodge at the same time as her ex-husband, Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, and the pair – she once described them as the ‘happiest divorced couple in the world’ – have finally gone their separate ways, at least for the foreseeable future.
While he remains holed up at Sandringham following his arrest and subsequent release without charge in February, she has remained under the radar.
There have been rumours and reported sightings – from a retreat in Ireland to a wellness clinic in Switzerland via the Middle East – but nothing concrete. No one has spilled the beans. No one has dobbed her in, even though they could make a pretty penny out of doing so.
She’s more elusive than the Scarlet Pimpernel, harder to track than Lord Lucan.
She is, when you think about it, the most famous missing person in the UK. And yet she hasn’t been photographed once, despite the best efforts of His Majesty’s Press. She wasn’t even spotted during her final flight from Royal Lodge. Those players on Celebrity Hunted could certainly learn a thing or two from her.
What’s her secret? Simple: good mates. Someone as recognisable as Fergie doesn’t remain that well-hidden without some serious back-up, funds and transport – and the generosity of friends.
So why does she inspire such loyalty? It’s not as though, stripped of her titles and royal connections, ostracised by her charities, cancelled by her publisher, penniless, homeless and a social pariah, she has anything left to offer them.
And yet personally I know of at least two people who have stepped up to help, and I’m told there are plenty more.
It’s in times of trouble that you discover who your true friends are, and it seems the former duchess has more than a few willing to stick by her.
I asked one of them, a good friend of mine too, why, and she said quite simply: ‘It’s because she is a very loyal friend. She never forgets a birthday, always sends a present. Nothing flash, just kind and sweet and thoughtful.
‘The only people who don’t like her are the ones who haven’t really met her,’ she added. ‘She is generous to a fault – and it is a fault. She would give you her last fiver, which is probably why she’s in this mess in the first place!’
For me the clearest indication that there is at least a grain of truth in what my friend says is the late Queen’s decision to entrust her precious corgis to her.
I know that in recent months there have been attempts to blame Elizabeth II for the whole Andrew mess, and perhaps she does bear some responsibility as an over-indulgent, too-trusting mother (if that were a crime, we would all be in the dock).
But to me she will always remain someone who was a pretty good judge of character during her long reign. She wouldn’t have left Muick and Sandy to just anyone.
Whatever else Sarah Ferguson may be, there is no doubt that she has always been a survivor, the kind of woman who picks herself up, dusts herself down and gets back on the horse. Unless it transpires that she has some kind of criminal case to answer, I can see her making a comeback.
A book would seem the most likely course of action, telling her side of the whole sordid story. Who knows? Maybe that’s what she’s working on at this very moment, in whichever borrowed bedroom she happens to be in.
But one thing’s for sure: for better or for worse, I very much doubt we’ve seen the last of her.
