ALEXANDRA SHULMAN’S NOTEBOOK: Kate has been so open about her diagnosis. Now let’s leave her to get better in private

The news of the Princess of Wales’s cancer diagnosis reached me while I was in the lobby of a Copenhagen hotel with a couple of friends before going out for a cocktail. Suddenly the decision of whether she would be a negroni or a martini didn’t seem so pressing.

We were left chastened by the news, watching the fragile-looking but immaculate and beautiful princess on our smartphones. It is an irony that at this challenging time in her life, a woman we rarely hear speak for long, so clearly and movingly, addressed viewers in a truly majestic manner. While she seemed magnificently composed, we were tearful and completely shaken.

Cancer is part of many people’s lives. As a contemporary said the other day: “I know a lot of people who are sick.” And most of them have cancer.

Still, there was something particularly distressing about this woman, mother of three young children and seemingly so full of health and energy, struck by this dreadful disease.

In some totally irrational way, cancer seemed to be for other people, not one of the vital pillars of our hopes for the monarchy. But cancer has an insidious ability to creep into our vision of the future, making it even more difficult for the patient.

Not only do they have to endure the often unpleasant treatments that a cure entails, but they also know that everyone around them is terrified of what awaits them.

In her video, Catherine, while no doubt enduring some of the most difficult days of her life, was trying to reassure the world that she couldn’t just focus on keeping her children’s spirits up. The unpredictable nature of cancer makes it no easy task to sound so convincing about the better days ahead.

But she is right. Fortunately, cancer treatment is improving day by day and it will not be luck but science that will make our Princess finally recover after a few months in which she must be allowed to withdraw from our questions.

In the meantime this is the last I will write about his illness. She has done her bit by coming out when she clearly would have preferred to keep things private. Now we have to do our thing and leave her and her family in a protective bubble to get better.

Why complain about a club full of claret?

Really, nowadays, it’s just too ridiculous that there’s still so much fuss made about the Garrick Club’s men-only membership policy.

Last week, both Cabinet Secretary Simon Case and MI6 chief Sir Richard Moore felt it was necessary to resign their membership, because they are on a long leaked list of high-profile members.

Surely that reaction says a lot more about them than it does about men-only clubs.

Both men would have known that the controversy over membership policy has been raging for years; I remember that during the 1980s, my father gleefully voted to keep us, his daughters, out.

It’s a long and complicated selection process, so Case and Moore wouldn’t have made a spontaneous decision to join. The fact that they choose to spend the odd evening with a bunch of guys pontificating, or even sleeping in a leather armchair, does not in any way affect their ability or desire to bring greater gender equality to the Civil Service or MI6.

So why did they give in and resign? The Garrick is a splendid place, with excellent wine and half-decent food. It’s in a nice spot in Covent Garden, next to restaurants and theatres, rather than the no man’s land of Pall Mall where most of the old clubs are located.

But still, I feel less than anything that I can’t be a member. The goal of any membership club is surely to have some people included and others excluded.

I am perfectly happy to go there as a guest from time to time, which happily means that I never have to pay, and the occasions on which I have been in these sacred rooms have not convinced me of that transcendental corridor of… There they take power decisions, while women are excluded.

It’s more like a lot of claret-filled grandiloquent talk.

A 007 mystery that should never end

IF Aaron Taylor-Johnson is announced as the new James Bond, it will be sad news, not because he isn’t an excellent choice, but because it will have put an end to the entertaining debate over who will be anointed.

As soon as Daniel Craig decided to call it a day after a seemingly messy ending in No Time To Die, rumors began about who might take on the role, presumably as Bond’s ghost?

It has been said that all possible British actors are in the running, including Idris Elba, who would be the first black 007, and there has even been speculation that the next Bond could be a woman.

A female Bond is only slightly stranger than the idea that Cillian Murphy could be a contender. Although Cillian is a man with formidable acting powers and fascinating looks, he is too thin to play Bond. He prefers the more muscular James Norton.

Style that lasts in memory

A huge new book about Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s style has been published 25 years after her death in a plane piloted by her husband. It is filled with photographs of her gaze, which is still referred to with frequency and admiration; the minimalist and elegant shapes, the monochromatic palette, the discreet makeup.

Even last week, Vogue.com wrote that you can get your polished look by pairing a knee-length black lace skirt with a white shirt.

Like so many fashion inspirations, his impact has been magnified due to his early death.

If Bessette-Kennedy had lived, she would now be 58 years old, and although her style of dress can be worn by all ages, she probably would not currently be the model of always brilliant style that remains in our memory.