Since my mother died in February, I have received what feel like unmistakable signals that she would prefer me not to wear her jewellery.
It may not be the affectionate form of contact I imagined if her spirit is still watching over me. Even so, there is something reassuring about believing she remains close by.
Nothing she left behind was worth much money. I do not even recall her wearing some of the pieces, but my siblings and I could not bring ourselves simply to throw them away.
When we divided everything up, I chose a Pippa Small bracelet threaded with little unpolished gemstones, along with the unassuming watch my mother wore every day. It had a narrow black strap and a clean face marked with Roman numerals.
Within a few weeks, though, I managed to lose the watch. Distraught, I searched everywhere, even looking through the recycling bins, which so often seem to harbour missing possessions. Still, there was no sign of it.
A trainer at my local gym told me that his Iranian mother said a particular prayer whenever somebody in the family misplaced something—and that it never failed. He offered to ask her to pray for my watch. My only task was to tie a knot in a piece of fabric and leave it tied until the watch turned up.
Three weeks later, the watch appeared down the side of a sofa. I strapped it on again, only for the glass to drop out of the front almost immediately. Then the watch stopped working.
The bracelet has behaved in much the same way, breaking twice. The first time, it snapped while I was asleep, leaving me to wake up surrounded by its stones. Last week, after I had it restrung, the chain broke once more, scattering the gems across the floor of a shop. Mama, I hear you!
Since her mother’s death in February, Alexandra Shulman (pictured) says she has received unmistakable signs that her mother does not want her to wear the jewellery she left behind.
Lost child is truly the stuff of nightmares
A child vanishing in the middle of an ordinary afternoon is every parent’s worst nightmare. No family should have to endure the devastation, despair and helplessness now facing Noah Wood’s loved ones after his body was found in a nearby pond last week.
The fear that grips you when a child disappears is unlike anything else. One moment they are right in front of you; the next, they have vanished. It has happened to many of us, though thankfully most children are eventually found safe.
My son Sam was five when he disappeared. We were in Rome, walking through St Peter’s Basilica shortly before closing, when I turned around and realised he was no longer there.
The crowds were beginning to thin, but the basilica was vast, packed with sculptures, papal tombs and countless places where a small child could hide.
I could not stop imagining how frightened he might be if the doors were locked with him still inside. Haunted by fears of child abduction, I raced around the building, grabbing hold of guards and shouting that I had lost un piccolo ragazzo con i pantaloni rossi. I have never been so terrified.
After about 20 minutes, someone found him outside, cheerfully running around St Peter’s Square. He was chasing pigeons beneath the watchful presence of the 140 saints and martyrs lining the Colonnades. Relief overwhelmed me—but so did anger.
Sam had been safe and missing for only a brief time, yet the fear of what might have happened stayed with me for days. I can only imagine the agony Noah’s family must be enduring, and my heart is with them.
Reunion magic? It can’t Live Forever…
By contrast, one of the happiest evenings of my life came with that same child, now 31, when Sam and I watched Oasis perform at Wembley last year. It was a remarkable concert, and sharing it with him moved me in ways I still cannot fully explain.
The occasion felt even more significant because it marked the first time Noel and Liam had performed together since their split nearly 15 years earlier. Now, just a year on, they have announced dates for another tour.
That news cannot diminish my memories of the Wembley show, but it does slightly weaken the sense that the reunion was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Its particular magic cannot be recreated.
Pop doesn’t have to be political, just good
When Oasis return to the stage, will they, like Ed Sheeran, be expected to make their position on Gaza known?
Sheeran’s current US tour is in meltdown after his support act Macklemore used his platform on stage to publicise his ‘Free Palestine’ views.
It’s opened a whole can of worms over whether an artist like Sheeran is correct to stay publicly neutral. Personally, I would much rather he did and that we accept performers can keep their views to themselves.
Certainly, there are some I might admire for their opinion but, in general, I just want to go and see them play their incredible music.
I’m not paying for hugely expensive concert tickets in order to hear them share their political views.
Even the tech bros suit up for the King
I found it oddly reassuring to see the respect the tech bros had for King Charles at his AI summit in Scotland last week.
Usually geeks are the masters of dressing down – Sir Demis Hassabis, founder of Google DeepMind, is often in crew necks; Jensen Huang, CEO of Nvidia, in leather jackets – but for the King, these men who control whether AI will kill off humanity, scrubbed up nicely, appearing in suits and ties.
How Jemima got her bridal gown so right
Jemima Goldsmith married multimillionaire financier Cameron O’Reilly last weekend wearing an almost completely transparent dress
Jemima Goldsmith looked absolutely wonderful at her wedding last weekend to businessman Cameron O’Reilly.
Walked down the aisle by her two handsome sons, she wore a beautiful white tiered Oscar de la Renta wedding dress which, at first glance, seemed very conventional. On second glance, however, it was clear it was almost completely transparent.
Jemima is perhaps the only woman I know who could get away with such a revealing outfit, managing, at 52, to look traditionally bridal and knock-out sexy without the slightest trace of tackiness.
