Magazine article New Statesman (1996)

Are You Fergie in Disguise?

Magazine article New Statesman (1996)

Are You Fergie in Disguise?

Article excerpt

I'll be glad when this royal wedding malarkey is over. My phone hasn't stopped ringing and Cherie Blair was banging on my front door half the night. I'm starting to wish that I'd never setup my website, Willsandkateweddinginvites. bstard.ky ("ky" being the international internet code for the Cayman Islands, so not only tax-advantageous but rather sexy to boot).

It's not even as if I need the money. Ever since I ramped up the price of gold last year, I've been raking in the readies at a rate that even I find a tad embarrassing. Naturally, the bullion bubble won't last for ever. Sooner or later, some highly paid analyst will grow suspicious of the rapid increase in gold's availability. People will start to examine their new ingots more closely and may find that some of the surface flakes off ...

So why am I bothering? It's a matter of supply and demand. There are just a few thousand seats in Westminster Abbey and several million people around the world who'd like to sit in them.

A black market is the inevitable outcome, and I considered it my responsibility to ensure said black market was orderly. After all, it is a royal event.

Fortunately, many of the official guests are obscure beyond the point of anonymity, so it wasn't that difficult to obtain a couple of invitations that were meant for the high commissioner of some minuscule colonial oversight and sell them on to a deserving (if equally obscure) uninvited couple, such as our former prime minister and his wife, Gordon and Sarah Brown. …

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