I met the newly annointed Crown Prince Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa of Bahrain at a lavish party given for him in a glamorous house in Mayfair in 1964. I was just 19, and a ‘fresher’ at Birmingham university. In my first year there of a Philosophy degree course.

How I managed to be present at this rather louche party, given in Hamad’s honour, was somewhat surreal.

Because I had accompanied my father, rather hastily, to this function.

So much so, that I arrived with only freshly-washed hair, no make-up, and wearing a cheap little cotton dress from a shop called Neatawear, that no longer exists. In the fashion of the day, the skirt length was short.

The first thing I noticed were the girls. Seated on chairs around the room were several very young teenage European girls, mainly blonde, very pretty and heavily made-up. I realise now that they were high end call girls.

Hamad, who was barely 15 at the time, looked nervous, and was seated at a large, round table with several men, who all looked like security guards.

As I walked into the room – my father had disappeared somewhere, one of these guards approached me and said that Hamad would like me to join him. I had noticed him watching me, as I entered the room.

My absolute plainness and absence of any make-up might have intrigued him.

As we sat together, I noticed that his chubby, schoolboy fingers were covered in gold and diamond rings, and he was wearing a very fine, slightly shiny Alpaca suit. He seemed interested in me, asked me about my university course, and mentioned that he was quite nervous about going to officer cadet course training at Aldershot and later Sandhurst shortly. I noticed that he seemed quite sophisticated for his age.

Wordly, but possibly still a virgin.

Anyway, he was a freshman,of sorts, too! Our conversation bonded us.

I briefly left the table to go to the Ladies Room, were I was immediately surrounded by bevies of the pretty young girls who had been lining the rooms.

They were fascinated to know how I had ‘bagged’ the Crown prince, and congratulated me. They were slightly in awe of me. How had I achieved such a thing.

And, to my astonishment, when I returned to my seat next to Hamad, he asked for my address, and invited me to come to lunch with himat the Dorchester hotel the next day. He said that his chauffeur, Danny, would drive down to Shenfield , Essex, where I lived, in his Silver Cloud Rolls- Royce to fetch me. And this is exactly what happened.

Exactly on time, the next morning, this beautiful grey Rolls drove up, outside my house,and a uniformed Danny, opened the door for me, and drove us both up to London.

When I arrived at the Dorchester, I discovered that Hamad and his entourage of men occupied an entire floor.

But I noticed that there were still a group of girls lining the walls.

The women in his family, however, occupied another floor.

Lunch was served to us – only Hamad and I were at the table – and I found the food delicious, but I don’t recall what we ate.

After lunch, Hamad then said that he wanted to go bowling in Golders Green, and asked if I would go with him, which I duly did,

I