So Bob Woodward has done it again. His new book savages your husband for dithering and claims you really run the show. All this on top of last week's New Yorker magazine breaking the news that you are being positioned for the presidency after Bill has left. You may not have been ready to go public with this, but don't worry, it will not blow your chances.

Listen, any woman with the glow you had when I saw you in the White House at the International Women's Forum before Christmas can do what the hell she likes.

How a dim narcissist such as the Princess of Wales can look like a film star while a woman as great as you simply does not come across on camera is one of the secrets of the snappers of our ragingly misogynist press.

But you've really got it now, the authentic gloss of beauty, power, achievement and command, the whole enchilada.

So go for it, and don't let the endless anti-feminist newspaper drivel about your fat ankles even cross your consciousness. The easy ride given to Denis Thatcher by the gentlemen of the press contrasts strangely with the way you have been oiled, boiled, pickled and fried for everything from your chocolate-chip cookies to the braces on Chelsea's teeth.

So when you go for the Big One it cannot be any worse. And you have earned it. You have paid your dues. Every wife knows what it is to have to save her husband's bacon. But you have had to do the rescue operation, if you'll pardon the phrase, with knobs on. And talking of knobs, Bill will be right behind you when you go for the top. Remember when he said 60 per cent of the American public think Hillary is brighter than I am, and the only thing he couldn't figure out is why it's taking the other 40 per cent so long to catch on? Any man who can say that can't be all bad.

Let's face it, if there was any justice you would have been there years ago. Not enough people know you were named as the girl most likely to be the first woman President as long ago as your high school yearbook. As Gloria Steinem pointed out, it is inexcusable that old countries such as Britain and India had women presidents before the US. Indeed, the American fear of powerful women amounts to a conspiracy. When Geraldine Ferraro even tried for the vice-presidency, the press, God love 'em, gave her husband such a roasting that no woman even thought of trying for another 10 years.

But you have been there, done that, and come out the other side. You have done it for him. Now do it for us, the International Women's Mafia, and all those who need you more than they need another Reagan/ Bush clone in the White House. But above all, my dearest girl, do it for yourself . . .

Ever yours,

Rosalind Miles

(Photograph omitted)