Harry and Meghan are on the move again. They’re like quicksilver, that pair, impossible to pin down. They’ve only just opened the Invictus Games in Vancouver, Canada, and now it seems they’re contemplating the commencement of another “Definitely Not a Royal Tour but Actually a Royal Tour” royal tour of Ghana.

A senior source in Ghana has apparently told The Mail on Sunday that the official seduction process has begun, the invitation has gone out and the west African nation is “ready” for the tour. Ready how? “The red carpet will be rolled out for them,” said the source. “A selection of incredible villas with top security would be set aside for them.” I don’t know about you, but I hear that and I picture Meghan as Renée Zellweger from Jerry Maguire, choked with emotion and staring fondly back at Ghana, saying: “You had me at red carpet, incredible villas and top security.”

The Invictus Games, meanwhile, were launched with a veritable Meghan and Harry mediagasm, including speeches, photo ops, a bizarre backstage tour in a golf buggy, a selfie video with I’m Like a Bird singer Nelly Furtado, and the impromptu announcement from Meghan: “We just arrived, I don’t know, a couple of hours ago, and I touched Canadian soil and I went, oh, it feels like home.”

The ostensible reference here is the six years that Meghan spent living in Toronto while filming her legal drama Suits, but could it have a deeper meaning? In 2016 Meghan declared that she’d be tempted to emigrate to Canada if Donald Trump was elected president. Trump was duly elected but then Meghan’s personal life blew up (something to do with a new husband, his emotionally repressed family and Netflix) and the first threatened “Megxit” was averted. In the meantime, however, the animosity between Trump and Meghan has only increased, with the US president declaring (in 2022) that, “Harry is whipped like no person I think I’ve ever seen. I’m not a fan of Meghan … I think poor Harry is being led around by his nose.”

Trump’s “poor Harry” line was essentially redeployed over the weekend when the controversy over the Duke of Sussex’s US visa erupted once again — in short, anti-Harry campaigners want to know why someone who (in Spare) admitted to taking cocaine, marijuana and magic mushrooms was granted an easy visa in 2020. Asked if, fulfilling his promise to kick out dodgy immigrants, he will now deport Harry, Trump replied: “I don’t want to do that. I’ll leave him alone. He’s got enough problems with his wife. She’s terrible.”

Ah yes, the “terrible wife” carte blanche. Works a treat every time. Didn’t turn up for work yesterday? “Sorry, the old ball ’n’ chain’s been acting up.” Haven’t paid your taxes? “It’s the missus. She’s a nightmare.” Spontaneously murdered your neighbour? “Yep. The wife’s been at me again. She’s terrible.”

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Trump, of course, is notoriously thin-skinned and capricious, and thus it seems that Harry, for the entirety of this rollercoaster presidency, will remain a single snubbed White House dinner invitation away from a full visa investigation and even a potential one-way flight out of LAX. It might explain Meghan’s Canadian “home” comments (laying the groundwork for Megxit 3?). Or indeed it adds context to the couple’s rumoured purchase last year of a £3.6 million villa in Portugal (“We just arrived in Lisbon a couple of hours ago, but when I touched Portuguese soil I went …”).

And as for the proposed Ghana trip? Well, some reprehensible cynics are claiming that these “Definitely Not a Royal Tour but Actually a Royal Tour” royal tours are merely an attempt to keep the Meghan and Harry “brand” alive and relevant so as to amplify their other media projects such as the forthcoming Netflix show With Love, Meghan. Me, I like to think they’re not that ruthless. It’s the red carpets, incredible villas and top security. Right?

Sorry if I gave you the ick

Hey, laydeez, you’ve heard of “the ick”, yes? I probably gave it to you right there, with the laydeez thing. It’s a feeling of revulsion commonly ascribed to women in the dating sphere when encountering instances of cringeworthy male behaviour.

One gets the ick, apparently, when one watches men apply lip balm, or when they do air guitar or play video games or wear sunglasses on top of their head, or announce the commencement of an anecdote with, “This is such a funny story …” It’s all serious ick, and can neutralise the prospects for any romantic relationship before it’s even begun. Oh, and novelty socks is another one. And “finger guns” while dancing. And using “meister” as a suffix (“they call me the shagmeister” etc). And wearing baseball caps backwards. It’s just icky ick, ick, ick.

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Well, it seems that the ickmeisters have finally had enough and are pointing their finger guns right back at the laydeez. Mental health charities such as Manup? are claiming that popular concepts like the ick are causing men and young boys to lose their self-worth, and that ridiculing men is ultimately making them anxious and can be psychologically damaging. “Everyone feels they can have a laugh and joke about men,” the charity’s founder Dan Somers told The Sunday Telegraph. “And nobody will call it out.”

And yet the ick, if handled carefully, can surely be your friend? The ick is a set of nifty behavioural guidelines. I wish the ick had existed back in my dating days. I wouldn’t have worn so many baseball caps backwards or spent so many Saturday nights down on my knees performing an air guitar version of Rebel Yell by Billy Idol in the Union bar. It all makes sense now, of course. Those girls visibly wincing at the edge of the dancefloor? The open snarls of disgust? These poor women all had the ick and they didn’t even know it. I certainly didn’t.