Princess Diana lookalike
Tuesday 12th May 2009
Everyone remembers where they were the day Princess Diana died. I certainly do. It's stamped in my memory. Jolted awake by the shrill ring of the phone, I reached over with a groan. 'Who's calling at this hour?' I grumbled. It was 7.30am. 'Diana's dead,' my friend, Rona Pickering, 47, gabbled. 'A car crash.' 'W-what?' I stammered. My whole body shook as I remembered my own near-fatal crash a couple of years earlier. Terror had engulfed me. Please don't let us die! The car span 360 degrees, then hurtled towards the central reservation at breakneck speed. Please don't let us die! Rain hammered on the window as the grey metal barrier rushed up to meet us. Please don't let us die! There was a sickening crunch as the car rammed to a halt, the force of the impact whipping our heads back. As the smell of burning rubber drifted through the car, there was silence. 'Are-are you OK, kids?' I stammered eventually. Whimpering from the back told me Jennifer, now 21, and Daniel, 19, were alive. We were all alive.
As a professional Princess Diana lookalike, the parallels between my crash and her tragic death didn't escape me. I'd started impersonating the 'people's princess' in 1992. My mate, Debbie, a professional photographer, thought I was the spit of her and suggested she take some pictures for me to submit to a lookalike agency. 'What do you reckon?' I asked my husband, Steve, 48. 'It might be a bit of fun,' he said. But even I was taken aback when I saw the photos. The same puppy dog blue eyes, blonde bob and slim figure… we were eerily similar. A few weeks later, I was interviewed by the agency. 'The princess and I even like the same Spandau Ballet song, True,' I smiled, having done my research. It worked. 'I'm in,' I grinned to Steve when I got home. Before I could take it all in, I was off on a three-week Norwegian cruise, posing for pictures as Princess Diana. 'They're paying me £2,000 to pose with starstruck holidaymakers,' I told Steve on the phone. He was thrilled. We'd had a tough few years after he was made redundant and struggled to find a job. We deserved a break.
But what started as a bit of fun, quickly became a way of life. Advertising agencies, papers, magazines and TV companies all paid for me to travel the world. At the time, I thought I was doing what was best. Being Di was a goldmine. I was earning between £350 and £1,000 a day and being whisked round the world. Who wouldn't cash in on the opportunity? In my previous job as a teacher, I hadn't earned a fraction of that. I could cherry-pick the best jobs, and turned down flat a photoshoot as Di for Penthouse. Initially, I was embarrassed and blushed in every picture, but people just thought I was imitating a shy Princess Diana. After a while, I couldn't help but get caught up in the glamour as I slipped into diamanté-studded dresses and placed tiaras on my head. My wardrobe was like something from a movie. I mimicked the princess during her shy stage, through to the lower cut, more revealing dresses and slicked-back hair. I appeared on Richard and Judy, posed with visitors at Madame Tussauds and even went to Hollywood. But when Steve got himself a job as a telecoms consultant, which took him all over the world, we hardly saw each other.
I was 20 when we got married, had our first kid at 25 and, 12 years on, the spark had gone. I'd been echoing Diana's path. I'd married too young, and now, my marriage was on the rocks, too. Before I could try to repair the damage, rumours emerged that Princess Diana was having an affair with James Hewitt. Not missing an opportunity, I was called in to do a spoof of the pair caught canoodling. No harm, I thought, pulling on a cropped top and cycling shorts. 'Go on, give him a kiss,' the cameraman grinned at me. Taking a deep breath, I puckered up. I was in hysterics as I rode around on the Hewitt lookalike's back, then had a pillow-fight. I never thought anyone would believe it. Until… DI SPY VIDEO SCANDAL, screamed The Sun front page, over my picture. 'How could they think it was real?' I gasped to Steve. 'Tell that to the paparazzi outside,' he scowled. Peaking from behind the curtain, I gasped in horror as the camera flashes went off. It was just 10 months later that Princess Diana was tragically killed in a car crash, on 31 August 1997. That same day, an agency called and asked if I wanted to dress up as Princess Diana and greet mourners coming to sign the condolence book at Buckingham Palace. 'No way,' I snapped, disgusted. But grief mingled with fear. What would I do now?
The next day, I went to the local college and joined a computer course. Diana's death had given me the chance to reflect on my own life. 'Let's start over,' I said to Steve. 'OK, he agreed. ' We can try.' Each week, we set aside a 'date night' and I made an effort to ask how his day was and to talk to him. Then, one night in January 2002, I logged onto our computer to do my tax returns. Without thinking, I opened the junk email box. There, glaring back at me, was a stream of emails charting my husband's six-month affair with a woman he'd met through work. I miss you, can't wait to see you when you come over to Australia… Me too, he'd replied. I wish we could just be together. My Diana days were over, but I could see the irony. Because I'd worked long hours, often abroad, as a Di impersonator, Steve had had an affair. Now, there were three people in my marriage, too. Devastated, I rang Steve. 'I know you've been having an affair,' I spat and hung up. 'How could you?' I yelled, when he got home. He didn't try to deny it. Instead he bombarded me with flowers and calls.
About to turn 40, I thought long and hard about my life. What had Diana done? She'd held her head up high, divorced her husband and kept her dignity. So I started divorce proceedings on the grounds of Steve's adultery, got a teaching job and launched myself onto the dating scene again. It was hard. I was a 40-year-old divorcee with two kids, a dog and two cats. Hardly a great catch. Chris Waring, 49, didn't seem to think so, though. The 6ft 3in retail manager was bright, laid-back and honest. 'I'm divorced with two girls, too,' he told me. 'I'm hardly without my own baggage.' We clicked instantly and, as soon as my divorce was settled in March 2008, he moved in. He respects and cares for me, and I couldn't be happier. My life so far has certainly been as chaotic as Diana's, but unlike the great lady, I got a second chance. This time, I won't be faking it.