News about Kingsley Amis

Their last home - along with about a dozen other permanent residents and a few volunteers - was Monkton Wyld Court, a Grade II-listed neo-Gothic rectory in Dorset. They'd been there for years. Simon for 13 and Jasmine and Jon, five and four respectively. Until early last year - with the arrival of a new resident called Stephen Williams, it all started unravelling in a blizzard of disagreements, allegations and counter allegations.

Those who were presented to the Queen often found the experience discombobulating. Though it may have been the first time they had ever set eyes on her, they were often more familiar with her face than with their own. They knew it in profile; they knew it head-on; they had seen it refracted through the visions of countless artists and photographers. So to meet the Queen face-to-face was apt to make you feel giddy or woozy, as though a well-loved family portrait had suddenly sprung to life

Words often fail my opponents, as they tend not to have much in the way of arguments. So in recent years, as I battle for facts and logic on anti-social media, my critics have taken to calling me 'old' in the hope of damaging me. A variation on this is to call me a 'Boomer', the American expression for those such as me born in the great Baby Bulge after World War Two (I was born in October 1951). They do this as if it were a brilliant point. They seem to think that because I am old, therefore I am stupid. They are not at all embarrassed about this, as they would be about equally open prejudice on the grounds of race or sex. My first response to this strange, rather stupid rudeness was to say to myself: 'Old? Me?'

One of the nicest men I've known died on Tuesday, a couple of months short of his 67th birthday and just a week after I enjoyed a last pint with him. Along with legions of others who loved his ­company, I shall miss him more than I can say. Christopher Locke was one of our gang of old buffers who would gather most lunchtimes of the working week at a pub near the Mail's London office, where we would sit together outside, smoking and drinking our pints, ­swapping anecdotes and generally moaning about the incomprehensible idiocies of the modern world.

EPHRAIM HARDCASTLE: William and Kate's attendance at Jordan's crown prince's wedding last week highlighted how cherished are ties with desert royalty. Most people attending overseas royal weddings are usually drawn to Edward and Sophie, but a source claims they may have been too low-ranking for this one. Despite the fact that the former king Charles and Abdullah were arrested in a violent coup attempt last May, they are still best mates.

PETER HITCHENS: I suspect I'll meet my fate on a London street, splatted on a pavement or a pedestrian crossing by an electric bike or an electric scooter. I used to believe I'd be killed riding my bicycle, but it's still a risk, but you can take steps to prevent that. It's also difficult to protect against this constant danger. Surely it is vital that we can freely walk in our towns and suburbs without the risk of being crunched from behind by a drugged-out lout. These items are only allowed to certain speed limits, so please don't make me laugh. Everyone knows how to modify them.

Lives of the Wives, by Carmela Ciuraru, has taken a look at writers' complicated relationships with their significant others. It focuses on some of the twentieth century's most popular names, including Roald Dahl, Kingsley Amis, and Kenneth Tynan. Infidelity, misogyny, and sadomasochism are among the tales of hysteria behind closed doors, as well as emotional and physical assault. In the illuminating accounts, FEMAIL reveals the worst of the battles laid bare.