Lucky old Kate Middleton, reportedly dumped by Prince William — or lucky old Prince William, reportedly dumped by Kate Middleton.

They had looked happy and well suited and dumpage is never nice, but in this instance we could make an exception and be pleased that both these young people might now get a chance to do normal young people things instead of walking around in tweeds in their mid-twenties, looking as though they’d been married for 30 years and were looking forward to putting their feet up with a nice cup of tea and an Inspector Morse repeat.

One of the alleged reasons for the break-up, according to “friends” quoted in The Sun, is that William, an officer in the Blues and Royals, has embraced army life and prefers going out drinking with his army mates in Dorset to driving back to London to see Middleton. Plenty of 24-year-old men view the lure of the pub and male companionship in the same way; this seems the first age-appropriate thing that William has done in a while and it rather gladdens the heart.

The second alleged reason is that William feels that getting engaged was the next logical step in the relationship, but that he is too young for such a course of action; again, you get the feeling that he may actually be thinking of ways to live a relatively “ordinary” life and that this dumpage is, its own way, a small bid for all kinds of freedom.

I feel sorry for William, for all of the obvious reasons, but also because we seem so keen on prematurely ageing him, perhaps because his brother Harry is such a “normal” (in the circs) young man, for ever stumbling out of nightclubs looking a bit grumpy and a bit the worse for wear — but also looking carefree and possessed of an enviable (to his brother, at least) “I’ll do what I feel like doing, thanks” swagger.

Because of what happened to their mother, we are anxious for them to appear happy and well adjusted at all times. So if Harry is going to slouch about looking slightly wild and behaving just like other men his age (that is, occasionally dubiously), it is essential for the public to feel that William appears “mature” and serene. Which he does.

However, there are limits and marrying ludicrously young is one of them. He and Middleton dated for a little more than four years — the relationship began when they were at university and practically children — and although there was never any hint of an engagement, Woolworths commissioned a range of royal wedding china and the tabloid newspapers seemed certain they would marry.

(Oddly, I don’t think the public particularly did. I can’t be alone in not feeling overly preoccupied with Middleton, who is very pretty, other than to notice that she managed to make even the most on-trend, playful clothes from Topshop look like they came from an emporium for sturdy matrons. Maybe she could undo a button every now and then from now on and sometimes forget to brush her hair.)

As for William, robbed of his mother and robbed of his privacy, it seems a bit much to ask for him to be also robbed of his youth — although of course this break-up has also robbed him of a confidante and of female companionship.

According to The Sun, which broke the story yesterday, the couple found it “impossible” to cope with the “extraordinary pressures” on their relationship. I’m sure that’s true — Middleton earlier this month settled a harassment complaint over a close-up photograph of her sitting on a bus and William has asked for the paparazzi to let her be.

In 2005 her lawyers contacted newspaper editors and asked them to leave her alone, saying that photographers had followed her almost every day and night since she left university. It’s sometimes said that Middleton had a photograph of William on her wall when she was growing up; the phrase “be careful what you wish for” seems appropriate here.

The question is, what now? Is there any woman alive who could put up with the grossly intrusive, incessant scrutiny that came to plague Middleton? Times have moved on and we are all too familiar with the story of how the young, virginal, spectacularly naive Diana Spencer was cast as a sacrificial lamb.

We wouldn’t be able to stomach a repeat — but the alternative is finding a girlfriend so hard-nosed that she can endure, and even enjoy, the degree of intrusion that comes with the territory; unfortunately, such a woman is never going to be a crowd-pleaser (and besides, Jordan’s already taken). Unless, of course, she is a celebrity in her own right. This does seem to be the way forward: I don’t think there’s any nice girl in the home counties who could bear the attention without being driven insane.

Poor old royals. If they wielded any power, they could carouse about like Charles II and nobody would mind. If they were merely obscenely rich, they could carouse about like obscenely rich people do and nobody would mind much either, or ever find out. If they had gone out of their way to become famous, they could scoot about behaving badly and having tons of girlfriends and we’d probably rather love them for it.

But there they are, powerless, rich, purposeless, famous by default, hounded by the press — and there’s absolutely nothing in it for them except the sense that they are doing their “duty” to a largely apathetic public. Really, it’s not the kind of existence you would wish on your worst enemy, let alone on two affable-seeming young men who presumably wish they could run about in peace having a laugh before total hair-loss sets in. I wish they would; I don’t think anyone would begrudge them it.

It’s hard not to speculate on the mood chez Middleton this morning. Her parents, Carole and Michael, run a mail-order business supplying children’s party goods; surreally, it must have occurred to them more than once that their daughter looked like she might end up being Queen of England. But the days when all little girls dreamt of becoming royalty are long past: the lustre wore off “the Firm” some time ago and even little girls have stopped believing entirely in fairy-tale endings.

Middleton, whatever her other emotions, must surely also be breathing a sigh of relief at having been handed her life back, to do with as she chooses, privately and without scrutiny. The real happy ending would occur if the same could be said of her ex-boyfriend.

I’m not holding my breath but in this day and age it oughtn’t, surely, be completely outside the realms of possibility.

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