Stop the hounding of the Duchess of Cambridge There is, of course, nothing scandalous about the Duchess of Cambridge's behaviour on that holiday (in contrast, even those who felt sorry for Prince Harry in his recent exposure might acknowledge that he had courted bad luck by playing drunken strip billiards with a bunch of strangers with smartphones). What is shocking, however, is the determination of Closer magazine to flog its nasty "scoop" around the world. The magazine's editor, Laurence Pieau, has now sought to shrug off the fuss by saying they are simply snaps of a young couple in love, which doesn't quite explain why the Closer cover line, in pink capitals, is a gleefully prurient roar of "Oh My God!" Often, "snatched" pictures in magazines are taken in a public arena, or with tacit consent: if you have a thriving career as a lingerie model, for example, it might be advantageous to be "snapped" in a bikini. Neither instance applies here, which is why I am glad that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have slapped a lawsuit on French Closer. I sincerely hope they win. The world sometimes seems in danger of forgetting that William and Kate are real people, and vulnerable to embarrassment and pain. William's mother Diana died in a car crash, fleeing paparazzi: how must he feel that his wife is now the subject of silly, salacious pictures cruelly released as she is gaining confidence on a high-profile tour? His distress will be increased by the news that an Italian magazine plans to print many more pictures. The late Diana, Princess of Wales had a complicated relationship with the media, which she saw as both enemy and friend. When she was unhappy, she used the press and television to speak directly to the public - think of those lonely pictures outside the Taj Mahal, or the Panorama interview. Yet it was a dangerous flirtation, and it escalated to tragedy. Kate is in a different situation: she and William seem solidly happy, and her personality appears more practical and less fragile. But even the greatest trouper can grow disorientated in an endless hall of mirrors. It is vital that Kate has places where she can hide. Why fans" safety was not a priority The seeds of the Hillsborough disaster were sown long before the horrific crush that took the lives of 96 Liverpool football fans on April 15 1989. Its origins lay, as the report last week emphasised, partly in the determination of senior police officers to see the event through the lens of hooliganism, a concern at the time. The safety of the fans was not uppermost: the idea that they might cause a problem to others was. Even after supporters were directed into overcrowded central pens, even when the cramming had become life-threatening, some policemen remained focused on the false notion that the Liverpool fans were bent on disruption. As the horror unfolded, the reaction of police chiefs was to sidestep blame by spreading misinformation about fans" uncontrollable behaviour, suggesting they had caused the tragedy. Senior policemen doctored the statements of ordinary officers to promote this view. The official attitude was that of contempt, which extended in the aftermath to the disgraceful treatment of frantic relatives. The misinformation trickled into the press, swelling existing prejudices about drunken, criminal Scousers. And when the people of Liverpool kept protesting, "self-pity" was added to the charge sheet. Finally, those myths have been destroyed, but when one looks at the dignified families of the dead, one cannot help but feel ashamed that insult was piled upon terrible injury. Who needs 45 bedrooms, anyway? Even for those of us who are occasionally susceptible to Lottery-win daydreaming, the £300 million house that has gone on sale in Rutland Gate, Knightsbridge sounds rather daunting. It overlooks Hyde Park, has 45 bedrooms, a large swimming pool, an industrial-size catering kitchen, underground parking, and gold leaf scattered everywhere. Perhaps it is a sign of getting older, but instead of musing "how fabulous," all I can think is "what a nightmare." Can you imagine the level of maintenance that would come with those sprawling proportions? I know, of course, that the super-rich don't worry about those things, because they pay other people to worry for them, but then they start to worry instead about the efficiency of the people they are paying to worry. A recent film, The Queen of Versailles, told the story of an American billionaire, David Siegel, and his wife Jackie, who set out to build the largest family home in America, based on Versailles: then recession hit, and their neo-Versailles sits half-built and decaying. The more one sees of the fall-out from too much, the more it seems that happiness is derived from keeping some lid on the concept of "enough."