Mick Jagger and Paul and Ingrid Channon (Lord and Lady Kelvedon) had homes there before us, and many stars of all kinds have built houses so it was never our private island, and today that is a funny thought. Basil Charles, who had been helping Colin, created a fun, honky bar that would become a very famous bar and restaurant on the sea. Colin gave wild and wooly and gorgeous parties at his domed Great House and in tents on the beaches and invited glamorous people who wore amazing clothes — sometimes amazingly little clothes — and acted in amazing ways under his direction. I have been to grand parties in most countries of this world, and few gave me the feeling that I would never experience anything like this again, as Colin’s parties did. There was a documentary about Colin after he left Mustique that did its best to make him look like a screwball, but someone should have made one about how well Colin understood glamour and great parties and the Beautiful People, and why that talent of his turned Mustique into such a unique place that, today, feels glamorous even when overrun with small children, as it often is.             

We didn’t buy Colin’s half-ownership of the island. At that time, Harding thought it was a dicey investment. I thought it was a cinch. I was the real-estate talent in the family — a sure instinct told me what to buy and when to sell — but he was the savvy builder, in every way. Together we built or rebuilt about 25 or more houses and apartments around the world – and it was our strong suit. If he could see Mustique today, he would admit it was a colossal mistake not to have bought Colin’s suggestion .

The palace on the hill finally came true and became a fairy-tale setting for a time in our lives. Our children spent Christmases and Easters there and still feel that it is home. I watched the island evolve as Princess Margaret swam laps in our extra-long pool. She was as careful with me as I was with her. Knowing that I was not about to curtsy to anyone, she would arrive holding out her hand as she walked through the orangery entrance and would shake my hand and give me a hug. She knew all the great vaudeville songs and when a friend of ours, Audrey Meadows, visited, the two performers would keep us singing along into the wee hours. The island has always been a private haven for stars from the theater and the movie world, and anyone wanting to escape attention.

Brian Alexander, likely the best manager of an escape island that the world has known, drove Mustique safely through years of possible mistakes by others. People have always come to the hotel or rented one of the houses and immediately bought property so they could stay. Upon becoming a homeowner, they all join the others to do what it takes to keep Mustique innocent, a sweet dream of what life should be like — and not a resort. They don’t visit Mustique; they live there, they love Mustique, and their children and grandchildren love Mustique. The children are safe there. The parents are not anybody there. They may have a beautiful house, but they live in their bare feet in the sun and teach their grandchildren to surf the waves at Macaroni Beach, and nobody notices them, nobody cares about them except their friends there. 

I won’t tell you who lives there now because we all protect each other’s Mustique, each other’s dream.