Ulrika Jonsson

On a somewhat less exalted level, another thing I find incomprehensible is the way the media pursue Ulrika Jonsson with such apparent venom.  Whether her offence in their eyes is to remain a notably attractive woman in her maturity, or to combine her good looks with obvious intelligence and wit, or to have been involved with a number of men who in some cases have behaved extremely badly towards her, or to be a foreigner who has become a household name and face (and figure) in her adopted country, or to have suffered a number of other misfortunes without feeling any compulsion to flee public life, or whether it’s a combination of all these misdemeanours that causes such animosity, I can’t begin to guess.  Her latest supposed offence is to refuse to name the individual who she says in her autobiography raped her several years ago:  she refuses to confirm or reject widespread speculation about who the rapist was.  But Ulrika is now engaged to be married to someone whose parents Jane and I have known, liked and respected for many years, and whose judgement of others has always proved completely reliable.  They have got to know Ms Jonsson well since the outset of her relationship with her son, and they both vouch unreservedly for her charm, her natural manner, her sense of humour and her decency.  Good enough for me! 

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