Prince William (34 page)

Centrepoint does more than put a roof over homeless young people's heads, although it has been doing that to a rapidly growing number since 1969. Today, the charity describes the process of people who come through their system as being on a journey
. Each young person is supported while they work towards overcoming the causes of their homelessness, which could be family, mental health, criminal activity, substance abuse or any number of reasons, and then building themselves a future in which they can live interdependent and successful lives. But a vital ingredient is that each one of those sixteen to twenty-five-year-olds has to want to help him or herself; otherwise they are out. I think of it as a deal.

From its origins in the basement of a church in Soho, there is now a network of houses, providing 800 beds, from emergency shelter to longer-stay housing. William visited three different sorts of homes. The first was in Dean Street in Soho, which was in the first category.

‘I remember it was a Monday morning, seven o'clock, William and Jamie turned up at Dean Street, plus one of his security details. I gave William a condensed one-hour induction and training programme to get him up to speed and then he was thrown in the deep end. He took the history of one or two people as they arrived – we couldn't control who turned up. Most of the young people recognised him and were astonished to find him there; the ones who didn't were maybe refugees. He talked to them about their situation, helped with the cooking, served breakfast and quietly befriended them. While the whole philosophy of Centrepoint is about trying to make people stand on their own two feet, volunteers do sometimes act as their advocates with people in the local housing department or benefits office if they are having problems. William got on the phone and made a call for someone almost his first morning. We had a regular volunteer called William at the time and I have this fantasy that, come the Wednesday when it was announced that Prince William was going to become our patron, one or two rather obstructionist people in the local government housing office would have been thinking, Oooh, was it
that
William?

‘We tried to get him involved in a little bit of everything and to understand the journey a certain sort of young person, who
came in maybe off the street, would work through. If everything went really well they might eventually move out of Camberwell into their own little bedsit or flat and live on their own but with support from Centrepoint.

‘There was a young man we set up to have a conversation with William, just the two of them, about how he was, how he ended up. He had been in the Army, but had either left before they could kick him out or was kicked out for drug use. This young man had two or three children by the age of nineteen, and was a serious cocaine user but he'd got himself sorted. It sticks in my mind not just because William will have learned a great deal from that conversation but because it was clear immediately that he was a good listener. Interestingly, a bit later this young man decided he wanted to get back into the Army and chose the Household Cavalry because of William's association with it.'

In drawing up the programme for Jamie's approval before the day, Anthony had put a question mark about whether a car would take William between Dean Street and a second shelter in Berwick Street, a distance of less than half a mile but in a very crowded part of London.

‘Jamie had said, “No, we'll walk,” and I remember walking with them and the PPO saying, “No one recognises him until he's past,” and no one did – but all the way there was a 4x4 twenty yards behind. The PPO was an important person in William's life at that time because they spent so much time together. He had two teenagers himself and told me some funny story about William nipping out to a nightclub – a version of climbing down a drainpipe – and getting him back in was almost as tricky as getting him out. He totally understood his role was protection but there was a fatherly aspect to his role too.

‘William was the same age as my son, and over time as we got to know each other, him as patron, me as CEO, the relationship became quite banterish and he used to tease me, in exactly the same way as my son did.'

On the third day they took William to the Camberwell Foyer,
where, amongst other life skills, the young people learn how to cook. ‘I remember it tickled me. William took part in a cookery workshop where they were being taught to make lasagne. When we sat down to eat it, a young, sassy British African Caribbean girl, good looking, flirtatious, sexy and quite stroppy, sat next to William. She was being quite flirtatious and I think he was quite liking it, and suddenly a hand went out behind him and she was getting a bit closer and my colleague was kicking her under the table and the more she kicked, the closer the girl got. Even though he was younger and it was early days of his operating in public, he handled it really well; he quite liked the banterish flirtation and he entirely knew what was going on.'

It was the same kitchen in which he and Kate made biscuits and mince pies just before Christmas last year on a more publicised visit to the Camberwell Foyer. Another sassy young girl, once homeless, who is now training to be a nursery nurse, fell into conversation with him about the wedding. William asked whether she'd thought his suit looked ‘dapper'. ‘Nooooo,' she replied, ‘your swag was on point' meaning she approved. ‘Swag?' he said, looking puzzled, and brushing his shoulder rhythmically, whereupon she brushed her shoulder and the two of them made up an impromptu dance they called ‘the Swag' – you dust your shoulders off twice – which they repeated for the cameras, while Kate and everyone else in the foyer, watched and laughed. ‘He's fantastic,' said the girl, ‘he's great, me and him are friends.' She said he had told her that when he and Kate have children, ‘he's going to make them come here and I can discipline them.'

It hadn't taken long for William to decide he wanted to become patron of Centrepoint back in 2005. By the end of the second day of volunteering he had made his mind up, so it was hastily arranged for a formal announcement to be made on the third day. It remains one of the charities he is closest to and most passionate about and it's not unusual for him to pop into one of the shelters, informally and unofficially, to serve breakfast or sit around and chat to the young people over a cup of tea – and no one beyond the shelter
ever hears about it. At Christmas he ‘begs, borrows or steals'hampers full of treats to give to them.

The effect of that is enormous. Seyi Obakin, who took over from Anthony Lawton when he stepped down as CEO in January 2008 after his wife became very ill, is in no doubt about William's value. ‘His mother was never just a figurehead patron either. She understood the effect she could have on the young people she met, and that has carried on through to William. His presence is unbelievably inspiring and motivating for young people. I couldn't exaggerate the influence.

‘He has this incredible knack of putting people at their ease. In November 2008 we were gathered at HSBC Private Bank's offices in London for the launch of our 40th anniversary year and he agreed to make a speech. As he came in, I had the task of introducing him to the young people who were around. He made a beeline for them, as he always does. I'd say who they were and where they were from and they got chatting and it was a task to move him on to the next. We got to this young woman, Jasmine, who had been so excited all day that she was going to meet him and when I introduced him she just froze, completely froze, she couldn't get her words out and that set off her stammer. With many of us it would have been an awkward silence. He's tall, she was quite short; he bent down and whispered to her, “Don't worry about it, just imagine me naked.” She burst out laughing and then the flood gates opened. She talked and talked and couldn't stop.'

THE SQUARE MILE

In the summer of 2004, Charlie Mayhew, chief executive of Tusk, the conservation charity that supports the Conservancy at Lewa in Kenya, had a telephone call out of the blue from Robert ffrench Blake, William and Harry's polo manager. He asked whether Tusk would like to be one of three beneficiaries of a charity polo match they were playing at Coworth Park, near Ascot in Berkshire. ‘It was great fun,' he says, ‘William was still at university, only twenty-two, but I was amazed, shocked almost, by how mature he was. I had a very brief meeting with him because a lot of people were trying to get a bit of his time, but he was friendly and definitely interested; and we got a very nice donation. I think that match raised about £15,000 or £20,000 for us. So I wrote to William afterwards to say thank you, and being as pushy as I am, said, “I don't know whether or when you are considering taking on any patronages, but we would love to be considered.” I got back, “Thanks but no thanks, but keep in touch.”

‘In 2005 we were again chosen to be beneficiary of the same day, one of just two charities that year – things were looking up. At that point William started to express interest in the annual marathon event we hold at Lewa. It is regarded as one of the ten toughest marathons in the world, situated at 5,500 feet on the foothills of Mount Kenya. He said he would love to do it, so I said come on out and do it. Next thing, I was invited to a meeting at Clarence House to discuss the logistics and reality of him taking part in this thing. Unfortunately the marathon that year coincided with the Rugby World Cup in New Zealand, which he was already committed to. So I was sitting there
thinking, this could be my one and only time to be here at Clarence House and I still don't understand the protocol of patronages, so before I was booted out I rather cheekily said, “I don't know if you remember, but I wrote and asked and you kindly said keep in touch.” The meeting was with Helen Asprey, but Jamie was sitting in, having just been appointed. “He's still at university,” was the reply, “and not taking on anything at the moment, but don't worry, you're on the radar screen, keep in touch.”

‘About six months later I got a phone call from Jamie: were we still interested? William had chosen to take on a couple of charities and if we wanted him he'd be delighted to be our patron alongside Centrepoint. It was a huge honour, a real opportunity to put us on the map; and it has.' There is a graph which I've shown William and he just pooh-poohs it. It shows our revenue which has just shot up. He very sweetly says, “You've just started talking more,” but I'm talking just as much as I've always done. I think what it's done – and this is where patronage of someone like him really helps us, apart from raising the profile and awareness of the existence of charity – it also gives it credibility.'

Politics is one area in which William has not yet had much experience. Unlike his father, he doesn't have meetings with the Prime Minister or other ministers (other than in passing, although he did get to know David Cameron quite well during the World Cup 2018 bid) and he doesn't see state papers, but all of that will come when he takes up full-time royal duties in the future.

What he did have during his six months of work experience, in addition to his three days at Centrepoint, was a cursory introduction to the City of London and most of the major financial institutions, and a crash course in the financing of charities, which has stood him in good stead. It covered everything from estate management to wealth management. He also worked on a small, isolated Duchy farm, and, at the other end of the scale, he worked at Chatsworth, in Derbyshire, the stately home of the Devonshire family, which the Dowager Duchess turned into a thriving business.
In the City he spent three weeks at HSBC, the world's second biggest bank, working at grass-roots level, mostly in the charity department where he shadowed a small team and prepared slides for weekly meetings with the directors. He spent a day with the Lord Mayor, and a day each at Lloyds of London, the Stock Exchange, the Bank of England, Farrer and Co. (the Royal Family's firm of solicitors), Billingsgate Market to learn about the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers and the regulation of the fish trade, and a couple of days volunteering in the Children's Unit at the Royal Marsden Hospital, pushing trolleys round the wards and manning the hospital radio station. He also spent a few days with the Football Association.

He knew nothing about the financial world but has retained everything he learned and still refers back to it if he is ever talking about the banking industry, but the biggest lesson for William was the realisation that if you're charismatic you can talk about the most complex matters and keep people engaged. But if you're not … there were times when he and his companion had to pinch themselves to avoid nodding off.

Another hugely influential part of the programme was time spent with the emergency services. Knowing he was going into the Army in January, Jamie had organised a spell with the RAF at Valley in Angelsey, where William joined the search and rescue teams in Snowdonia. Two days spent with the helicopter force there were enough to hook him. He was also impressed by the individuals who walked up Snowdonia – members of the mountain rescue teams – but it was the helicopters that did it for him, and that's why three years later he went for search and rescue and probably why he chose to join the team at Valley.

The programme ended with five days with Bertie Ross, chief executive of the Duchy of Cornwall. It was a swift introduction to the estate that currently finances his father's lifestyle – as well as his own – and which, when his father accedes to the throne, will be his.

William had agreed to be president designate of the Football Association in September 2005, with the plan that he would take
over from his uncle, Prince Andrew, the Duke of York, in May the following year.

Sir Trevor Booking, player turned pundit, turned FA executive responsible for youth development, was running a flagship scheme for five- to eleven-year-olds, which seemed the perfect fit. The idea was to develop physical literacy in children who increasingly, because they have no sports lessons in school and no access to open spaces out of school, are growing up unable to enjoy basic physical literacy such as running, throwing and catching. There is also an obesity issue.