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Alexander Chancellor, the man my daughter called ‘her future stepfather’

Regulars | By Anne Robinson | November issue

I stole the Queen Mother’s table at the Ritz to please him

My links with The Oldie go back to its late editor, Alexander Chancellor. He was my friend for nearly forty years. The man my daughter always referred to as her future stepfather. Not that I ever, so to speak, saw a gap in the fence for such a possibility. But much more because Emma would say my eyes lit up when I talked about him. I fell in love with his writing during his years as editor of the Spectator, and longed to meet him. I was a young executive on the Daily Mirror, at a time when the paper ran on much the same financial system as a small, oil-rich country. Bring him to any restaurant of his choice, I said grandly to Jeff Bernard, the Spectator columnist. Alexander suggested the Ritz. So, in a girly pincer movement involving bribery, pleading and my shortest miniskirt, I persuaded the maître...

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