The Old Bailey trial of millionaire novelist Lord Archer for alleged perjury and perversion of the course of justice has been hugely entertaining. Following the tedium of the British general election, the trial's exciting revelations about falsified diaries and extramarital affairs have given Britain a much-needed boost in the eyes of the world.
We are reminded that Britain, despite its sluggish economy and general air of misery, unrest, inefficiency and strife, still has men of great wealth and power, and in Jeffrey Archer's case, considerable personal style.
Style? Not only has Jeffrey his millions, a peerage, a country mansion, a fabulous flat on the Thames in London and a famously "fragrant" wife (Lady Mary); he has also had, we now learn, a mistress and (since his 1987 libel victory) "a string of other girlfriends". Beneficiaries of the Celtic Tiger economy, in particular our increasing number of millionaires, can learn much from the way Lord Archer organises his busy life.
For example, if you are a well-known man of substantial means, how exactly do you buy presents for your lady friends? You can hardly rely on the discretion of shop assistants, even in the more exclusive stores. People will talk, and all the more so if you also hold, as Jeffrey did at the time, a political post: he was then vice-chairman of the Conservative Party.
Jeffrey's solution was, it seems, to instruct his personal assistant, Angela Peppiatt, to buy various designer gifts for the ladies in his life - from Harrods, the jewellers Asprey and Garrard, Gucci and the designer shoe-shop Bruno Magli. Ms Peppiatt paid for the items with her own credit card, and was then recompensed by Jeffrey. The various girlfriends would then be invited to visit the shops and pick up their gifts.
This simple and elegant solution has, however, been tarnished by Ms Peppiatt's embarrassing confession in court that she was "ashamed" at being used to buy things (in particular for his mistress Andrina Colquhoun) that Lord Archer did not want out in the open.
Shame? It is sad to see this anachronistic emotion dragged in to sully the pure domain of power and wealth. We must take it, then, that in this modern age Ms Peppiatt was simply not up to the job of personal assistant to such an important and dynamic man. The unfortunate reality is that some people are simply unable to cope in the realms of greatness: fear or "shame" or "ordinary decency" or some other character defect usually associated with the less exalted classes holds them back.
Nor it seems did Ms Peppiatt appreciate the promotion she might well have achieved had she only been more supportive: after all, Lord Archer's mistress, Andrina Colquhoun, was Ms Peppiatt's predecessor at Conservative Central Office. A phrase about bread, and the side it is buttered on, comes to mind. But again, some people seem unable to grasp even the most obvious opportunities.
All of this has been most enlightening, and reflects extremely well on the caring character of Lord Archer and his generosity to a number of women. We must note also his scrupulous fairness: on one occasion, according to Ms Peppiatt, he bought two sets of jewellery, one for his mistress and one for his wife. We must likewise be impressed with the physical energy of a man of 61 who clearly has (or at any rate had) what earnest therapists and social workers refer to as a "healthy" sex life.
Referring to Lord Archer's complicated domestic arrangements, a journalist colleague has rather tastelessly brought up the old "joke" regarding whom you should choose to save if your wife and mistress are drowning; the droll answer being - "Your wife - because your mistress will understand." Given Lady Archer's supportive trips to the Old Bailey with her husband, it seems more likely, however, that Lord Archer would somehow manage to save his wife, his mistress and his string of girlfriends, and continue to be happily understood by all, provided the largesse continues.
We must hope that before the Old Bailey trial ends, the remaining loose ends will be tied up. It's not that we want to know why Lord Archer's mistress called him by the pet-name `Moon" while he called her "Roonette" - some things are best kept secret - but we would like to be told why Ms Colquhoun stayed in Lord Archer's flat only on Sunday nights, and on what nights the other girlfriends came to dinner, and in what order, and where Lady Archer fitted in, and how on earth the man kept track of it all. Even a falsified diary of these arrangements would surely be worth reading.
bglacken@irish-times.ie