A sad morality tale of our time

If there is a morality tale of our time, it may plausibly be woven around the sad story of Virginia Giuffre, Jeffrey Epstein, Prince Andrew and Ghislaine Maxwell. In the tumult of what was known as ‘the permissive society’ – more accurately, a licentious society – two lives have ended in suicide, one in irrecoverable public disgrace and one in a very long incarceration in an unyielding prison.

The recent tragic death of Virginia Giuffre, formerly Roberts, by her own hand, has once more highlighted the drama, which starts with a young girl sexually abused and exploited by a family friend; this led to her parents separating, and young Virginia living on the streets for a time.

She admitted to the reporter who first wrote about her story, Sharon Churcher, that she was dazzled, even comforted, by the glamour and wealth of Jeffrey Epstein – as many others, from far more favourable backgrounds, had been. She was excited, aged 17, when Ghislaine Maxwell told her she would be introduced to a prince. What young girl wouldn’t be?

Neglected and abused individuals often look for love, approval and comfort. And so, Virginia got drawn into that decadent milieu which Epstein and Maxwell choreographed. She thought they would protect her.

When an encounter or a relationship is disputed between two people, who is speaking the truth? Virginia said she was “trafficked” to Prince Andrew by the Epstein duo and made to have sexual relations with him on three occasions, aged just 17.

The individual personalities of these companions meant little or nothing to him, so one encounter blends into the next in his memory”

Andrew denies this, and does not recall ever meeting Virginia, even though, under pressure from Queen Elizabeth, he paid a substantial sum of money (reported to be £12 millions) in an out-of-court settlement, which did not admit liability.

What I imagine really happened is this: Andrew had been a spoilt young man who became accustomed to girl-fans shouting “We Want Andy!” As a divorcé, he also became accustomed to approaching any young female he liked, and many young females who were compliant to be in his company, and please him.  But the individual personalities of these companions meant little or nothing to him, so one encounter blends into the next in his memory. In that sense, he may be telling ‘his’ truth in saying he doesn’t remember Virginia.

But just as Virginia’s life was ruined by what she had been through, so Andrew’s life, in another way, has also been shattered by his actions and choices: stripped of all public duties, shamed and stigmatised as a sexual abuser and held at a distance by his brothers, nephews, and sister (only his ex-wife and daughters remaining loyal to him.)

In death Virginia Giuffre has been heralded as a heroine who had the courage to challenge rich and powerful men like Epstein – and brought them to account. That is a historic victory, perhaps. But the saga is still a terrifying morality tale about the wages of sin.