Mea culpa

The mother of my children rang me from Deauville and for probably the first time in her life asked me to retract something I had written. It was about Pal Sarkozy’s wife, Christine de Ganay, whom I described last week as the worst of a bad bunch. Well, Alexandra does have a point. I mixed up the cad’s wives. The poor de Ganey woman was left penniless with two young children by our pal Pal — and he is still very much with us as I saw a picture of him when his son was crowned at the Elysée. I simply mixed up his various wives and women and chose to call the best the worst. Stupid little Greek boy. This kind of thing happens to those who drink, fornicate (just) and think they know everything because they’ve been around for so long. My sincere apologies, and, believe you me, it’s not some Grabbit & Run hack lawyer who has sent me a threatening letter. Just the old wife asking me to play fair.

Be that as it may, my old boss Lord Black — I love it when the Yanks refer to him as Lord Conrad Black — seems to be doing well. The prosecution began as the Ardennes offensive by my beloved Wehrmacht did, but has now hit a rough patch. They came up with a couple of bullshitters who had been promised an easy time where you can’t drop the soap, but, and it’s a very big but, if the jury has any sense, they’ll throw the case out the window and then comes party time. Conrad reminds me a lot of Richard Nixon. Misunderstood, portrayed as an ambitious anachronism, slapped with ludicrous adjectives by hacks whose copious research only cloaks their prejudices. I have written about Black before, so I will spare you.