The Iron Lady was an inappropriate epithet for Margaret Thatcher. She disliked it, but learned to use it to her advantage. For those who knew her in her prime, however, it did not do justice to her.
Returning aboard her plane from a trip to Japan, I offered to help her open a bottle of Champagne. “No, Nicholas,” she ordered, pointing to her chair. “Sit down. I’ll do it.” I protested that if there was one thing I was good at, it was opening Champagne. She fixed me with a stare, passed the bubbly to her press secretary, put both hands on my shoulders, and pushed me down into her seat.… Seguir leyendo »