The Queen that might have been

Finding myself next to royalty at a dinner table is not something I do very often or very well. On one of the occasions that I met Princess Margaret, who always remained the embodiment of charm and gaiety, my words dried up. I could think of absolutely nothing to say, and I heard myself asking: "Are you one of those millions of people who have dreams about the Queen?"

Her reply was as candid as it was revealing. Yes, she said, and it was always the same dream. She dreamed that she was disapproved of, that she had done something which had made the Queen angry. Usually, in the dreams, it was nothing specific; but she could not rest until she had heard her sister's voice in waking life. Since the Princess kept later hours than her elder sister and sovereign, she would often, when she woke up midmorning and reached for the telephone, find that the Queen was already at work with secretaries, politicians or her boxes. All Margaret needed to hear was the voice: "Hello." "Hello." They would then hang up and the day could proceed without the black cloud of being "in disgrace" to depress the Queen's vivacious but inwardly troubled younger sister.

Princess Margaret was a life-enhancer who earned far more than her share of disapproval from the Press, and perhaps from that mysterious Establishment of whom we are always hearing. A symptom of this was the extraordinary puritanism which condemned her for smoking cigarettes. She was the daughter of a heroic chain-smoker, George VI, who died of lung cancer before he was 60.

You might have considered it prudent for her to abstain from the weed. You might, but it would surely have been none of your business. I, for one, always admired how she puffed away, regardless of public opinion. It was a small symptom both of her independence of mind and her essentially old-fashioned ways. She was utterly untouched by the Blairite revolution, or even by the pre-Blairite attempts to make the monarchy seem more accessible to the people. She did her duty, in so far as she was able to do so without actually screaming with boredom. She attended her Girl Guide rallies, her factory-openings, her inspections of by-passes, with the calm dutifulness of a minor royal personage. She made no secret of the fact that she was happier on those days when she could kick off her shoes, roll up the carpet and dance, smoke, booze and laugh with her friends - who included theatre folk, writers, jet-setters and the more rakish aristocrats.

It could be said that Princess Margaret Rose was born either too early or too late. Too early, in the sense that, had she been a quarter of a century younger, it would have been perfectly easy to persuade the newspapers and the Establishment that she could have married Group Captain Peter Townsend, in spite of the fact that he was divorced. In the light of how her nephews were to conduct their marriages, it now seems grotesque that she was forced to give up the man she loved because she was "mindful of the Church's teachings". Most of those who knew her well believed that marrying Peter Townsend would have been a deeply satisfying and stabilising factor in her life. She would have been less restless and more at peace with herself.

Maybe. What always struck her many admirers, of whom I was one, was the dignity with which she and Lord Snowdon conducted themselves after their marriage collapsed. When one compares their behaviour with that of a younger generation of Royals, they shine out as a model of dignity and decorum. Moreover, they were much-loved parents, and their children have both been, in their different ways, models of impeccable behaviour for minor Royals, wishing only to lead private lives. All this suggests that Princess Margaret's marriage to Lord Snowdon was not, as so many have considered it, a mistake. One wonders rather, given her upbringing and temperament, whether Margaret Rose would ever have been able to sustain a single, monogamous lifelong union, and whether she was not, in fact, extraordinarily lucky in the man she did eventually marry.

In another sense, Princess Margaret was born too late. She could be tremendous fun, she enjoyed the pleasures of mid to late 20th century living, including the holiday flights to her beloved Mustique. But, as countless friends testified, she never for one instant stopped being a grande dame, who could appear haughty with those who were not prepared to treat her, even at an informal party, as a princess.

To this extent, she would have been much happier, I think, if she had lived 25 or even 100 years earlier, in an age of deference, when the minor peccadilloes, and even love affairs, of the Royal Family might have been a subject of gossip among that group in society called the Upper Ten Thousand, but would never have been debated or chewed over in the newspapers.

What would her life have been like if she had been the elder sister of the famous pair? This is one of the great Ifs of 20th century history.

My own view, probably treasonable, is that Elizabeth would have been perfectly happy as a dull younger sister, living in the country and spending most of her time in the stables. Margaret Rose would have been a less discreet monarch - we would certainly have heard about it if the antics of the politicians had displeased her! There would have been a few explosions from the republicans, a few so-called gaffes by Queen Margaret, particularly if she had overindulged in the Famous Grouse, but life might have been more interesting.

As it was, she always played second fiddle, not a role for which nature had really equipped her very well. With her wit, beauty and style, she was designed to be a leading lady. She will be much, much missed - not only by her friends, but also by a people who rather liked to be reminded that not everyone in public life was, or needed to be, a goody-goody.