Margaret, Tony and me

I met Princess Margaret through Tony Armstrong-Jones who had been my great friend at school and Cambridge. I had bought Queen magazine in 1957 and Tony, Mark Boxer and I were working together to change it. Margaret and Tony were very secret in the beginning and it was all hush-hush. I thought their relationship was astonishing, but I didn't think it would be very successful, because of the sort of person he was, and I told him. He was an incredible person, and I didn't think he would fit in with the Royal Family, but on it went. Tony wasn't very happy about my view and we didn't see so much of each other. About a year after they married the Princess said to me: "Look, this is too stupid. You and Tony have always been the best of friends and that's the way it should be." She brought us together again.

The four of us - Jane, my wife, and I and the two of them - became tremendously close friends. We used to go on holiday together and I remember two marvellous trips to Italy in the early 1960s. We went to northern Italy one year and travelled around in Tony's old Morris 1100 car. We'd go to Venice to see a church or building because that was what interested us. These were not beach holidays, they were cultural holidays and really very rewarding.

Another year we started at the heel of Italy and drove to Rome. Tony had an Aston Martin by then and I rented something or another. From Rome we went back to Venice, which we all loved. Every evening when we got back to where we were staying Margaret would get us all to talk about what we had seen and done and she'd write down our impressions in her journal.

It was very old-fashioned - a bit 19th century, I suppose - but we loved it and when we got home she took Tony's photographs and put them with her text to make wonderful books of what we had done. Those were very happy days; interesting and a lot more sensible than people might imagine. In London we used to go out to the theatre, or perhaps the 400 Club in Leicester Square. Margaret loved the theatre and cinema.

We used to make our own home movies and I remember an occasion when we were all down at my house in Hampshire with Peter Sellers. We put together this film with Peter and Margaret acting, me as an extra and Tony working the camera. Peter would come up and announce that he was doing an impression. He would disappear then come back as Nelson or de Gaulle. Then he said: "I shall now do my world famous impression of Princess Margaret." He vanished out of the shot and she came on.

There was a lot of laughter. We made that film in a weekend. It was old-fashioned fun, immensely enjoyable. It was much easier for her to move around London in those days. We'd go to the theatre or see a film without people getting very upset about it. We'd have dinner at Kensington Palace from time to time, and I was always impressed by Margaret's marvellous talent. She would play the piano and sing incredibly well. She was passionate about the arts, and ballet was her great love. She worked very hard for the Royal Ballet School and she was not just a figurehead. She took a lot of interest in the kids, raised money, had ideas. I think a lot of people would say she did more than any other single person for the school.

What I find so difficult is that one doesn't know what went wrong. When things were good they were marvellous together. She was so witty. People talk about her sitting around smoking 30, 40 cigarettes a day, smoking herself to death. But everyone smoked in those days. You didn't notice it. I don't think it's generally known that she was quite sporty. Tony and I were madkeen waterskiers and she used to join in. She was very good. She used to ski on a lake near Windsor, and in Sardinia with the Aga Khan she'd go waterskiing twice a day.

I don't know how things started to go wrong. There were stories about them going their separate ways and we thought it would be nice to invite them for a holiday at a little house I had in the Bahamas. It was just a two-bedroom place on the beach. When they arrived there was a great official reception as they came off the plane. Tony immediately jumped on a police motorcycle, put her on the pillion and roared off. It was hilarious.

This was very much them. That holiday was a huge success. There was a wonderful scene one day when the prime minister and his officials turned up at the house for a visit.

It was pouring with rain, and Tony said it would be a pity if they thought we weren't enjoying ourselves. So we put the deckchairs out, changed into our swimming costumes and stretched out in the rain. When the prime minister arrived, all dressed in white and covered in medals, he immediately started apologising for the weather.

Princess Margaret said: "What do you mean? What's wrong with it? We're having a marvellous time, thank you." She was standing there in her bikini, rain running off her nose, smiling sweetly. It was the most marvellous piece of theatre.

What went wrong? I really don't know and I don't want to try to invent ideas to explain it. There wasn't any cataclysmic row. It wasn't all over in a day, they just began to see less of each other. Other people came on to the scene. Mr Llewellyn, for example. She started spending more time on Mustique. Tony didn't like Mustique. They were an odd bunch on that island.

That was the parting of the ways. She enjoyed it; he didn't. But the marvellous thing about them was their splendid children. They really were such incredibly good parents. When you think how well the children have turned out - with all those pressures - you have to credit Margaret and Tony with doing a fine job.

Jane and I divorced in 1979 and I saw less of Princess Margaret, although Jane was a lady-in-waiting until, well, now. We bumped into each other from time to time and we were still friends. I admired the way she continued to fulfil royal duties, but she became more and more ill. I believe she lost the will to live. At the end she sat in a dark room and her only pleasure was to have someone read to her.

For a woman like her that was very, very sad.

The Party Princess