We longstanding residents of Oxfordshire have had a lot to put up with in recent years. First, there were the Beckhams with their faux flat-cap invasion of honey stone Great Tew and queasy talk of ‘Golden Beez’ honey. Then came Hollywood proper in the form of Ellen de Generes in her quest for ‘Engerland’: a Frankenstein vision of romcom The Holiday and indeterminate fantasies about the Old World. Last, came Maga as American Vice President J.D. Vance’s motorcade howled through the village lanes of Dean last summer. But frankly, we ‘aint seen nothing yet.
Rumour has it that Harry and Meghan may take up residence in our benighted county, thereby finishing us off for good. Close to London, jammed with hedge fund managers, and with a plethora of members-only ‘clubs’ (Soho Farmhouse, Estelle Manor) to boot, Oxfordshire presents itself as the ideal location for the publicity-shy Sussexes. Meghan, we know, likes the idea of rural domesticity and will need space to grow (and photograph) her jam collection from the privacy of a large, gated rectory. Harry, having put up with the indignities of soulless Montecito for some years, will be keen to be back in with the Old Chin Guard – for the banter, of course, but also the polo at Kirtlington Park and the hunt (Old Berks perhaps). Where better for the Duke of Sussex to plonk himself than in a county that abuts Daddy in Gloucestershire, Uncle Charlie in Northamptonshire and disgraced cousin Princess Beatrice with her simpering sidekick Edo Mapelli-Mozzi in the Cotswolds proper? Only a quick whizz in the Defender in any direction, and Harry will be back in the bosom of his family. If, that is, he is invited.
But the real question on the county’s lips and WhatsApp groups is schools. Where will Archie and Lilibet be sent to be educated? And, beyond that, what can Meghan expect from the school run; a tiresome chore she already appears to be shirking citing major press intrusion. May I interject at this point and reassure the Duchess of Sussex that we prep school mothers of Oxfordshire have seen more than a few celebrities at school drop-off and we aren’t in the slightest bit fazed; we’re too busy trying to get to tennis before lunch in Clanfield.
But back to schools. There is of course the Dragon in North Oxford, formerly known as the school where Oxford dons sent their children, but whose academic edge has given way to glitz and cash in recent years. Parking in North Oxford may be a problem for the Duchess, especially sans decent security, so I would advise against a town school. Given that both Archie and Lilibet will probably attend the same school for logistical and no doubt emotional reasons, this knocks a few off the list: Summerfields, the boys’ Eton feeder in Oxford, will be out as will New College School known for its choristers (a shame regarding Netflix content). What remains are the co-ed country preps: Kitebrook, St Hugh’s and Cothill along with a smattering of other, lesser-known preps in South Oxfordshire such as Moulsford, where Boris and Carrie send their children. My money is on Kitebrook to the north of the county, a school that educates the scions of Big Money (the Bamfords etc.) and is reassuringly close to Soho Farmhouse for that all-important post-drop off Yummy Mummy coffee date followed perhaps, by padel, should the Duchess be keen.
But the real question on the county’s lips and WhatsApp groups is schools. Where will Archie and Lilibet be sent to be educated?
Schools, of course, are the gateway to the dinner party circuit. Should Meghan and Harry choose the school wisely, they will have an oven-ready friendship group to slot straight into. But they may encounter resistance from the Old Oxfordshire Set (not to be confused with the newer, Chipping Norton Set) who will be keen to avoid any kind of naff Netflix/Spotify publicity and may prefer to sidestep both Duke and Duchess altogether for fear of enraging William (whom they almost certainly know from school). Thus, come September and the new school term, the Sussexes will find themselves in a social quandary: how to integrate but not infuriate? Total avoidance of school drop-off via staff will be frowned upon, but I wager that Harry, vocal as he is about hands-on, upgraded, fatherhood, will be at the school gates in a baseball cap flirting with the mummies in no time. For Meghan, friendships may take longer to cement given her starry stable of ‘sensitivity-aware’ female friends in California. As the term begins, the Duchess will be closely scrutinised in the school car park and attendance at matches and birthday parties drily noted. Good luck, Meghan!
Come what may, we residents of Oxfordshire shall steel ourselves for the worst in the coming weeks as the cameras settle across these fields and lanes. Happily, for my own part, I take comfort in knowing that Meghan will never trouble my daily round: Sainsbury’s in Witney, the Land Rover nursing home in Standlake, and of course, the vet’s waiting room. Not for the Duchess the tedious realities of daily country life – although look what happened with Jeremy Clarkson. Should the Sussexes find our county unacceptable there is of course always Cambridgeshire, with its big, flat skies reminiscent of California and an old university up the road, where I gather they are very fond of big questions about truth and racial bias.
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