Prince Talleyrand, Napoleon’s foreign minister, who was catnip to women, fathered a child in his 60s.

Doomed from the moment the Darling Bud Of May slipped a diamond ring on her slender finger and said ‘I do’ to a man 25 years her senior.

And Catherine is certainly not alone in falling victim to the age-gap blues.

Yesterday, it was announced that singer Bryan Ferry had separated from his second wife, Amanda, after a mere 19 months of wedded bliss.

I couldn’t help but note she is 37 years his junior. For much of my adult life I had a penchant for older men. Like Catherine Zeta-Jones, whose relationships with men her own age seem to have ended in disappointment, I found the majority of my male contemporaries to be boobies, lacking in wit, experience and chivalry. Well, the Duke of Wellington became Prime Minister for the second time aged 65.

My beau was sophisticated, intelligent and exuded the allure that comes with a rarefied lifestyle.

We ate in restaurants that my male peers could neither afford nor be afforded a reservation; we enjoyed the best seats at the opera and luxuriated in first-class travel.

I felt spoiled, adored and privileged by a man who bore a passing resemblance to George Clooney. An ‘afternoon nap’, that lovely euphemism for midday hanky-panky, became a real afternoon nap.

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They say they saw it coming, those celebrity tittle-tattles who follow every whisper of Hollywood gossip.

The glorious Technicolor love boat of Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas has, allegedly, been navigating the rocks for some time. Theirs was a marriage that was doomed from the start.