On the Saturday evening I’d come back from the pub and bought an early edition of the Sunday papers. They were completely full of Di and Dodi, with pull out supplements and everything.
Caught my train home and, just before I went to sleep, the radio said that Di had been in an accident in Paris and had broken her arm and that Dodi was dead. I remember going to sleep thinking “THIS will put the cat amongst the pigeons”.
When I woke up on the Sunday morning, I thought my radio was bust because I couldn’t find any station that wasn’t playing sombre music.