Heather Mills has been enjoying an unprecedented run of good press - admittedly, all of it buried as deep inside the papers as the editors can get away with, and all enforced by the PCC. But, still, suddenly the papers have started to say sorry. She didn't buy an expensive swimming pool, she's not dating a friend; her breasts are her own, and her daughter isn't going to sing on the Shrek soundtrack.
I'm still trying to work out why anyone would bother to make up a story that Beatrice was going to sing on Shrek; and why anyone would be so enraged at the idea they'd require a formal apology. But they did, and she was, so sorries were issued forth.
Also surprising is the new person in charge of shaping Mills' public image:
None of the papers has paid compensation, but last night Mills's US-based publicist, Joe Dolce, said he was pleased with the action taken. "I'm happy to open a dialogue with the papers. I'm also happy the drubbing has diminished and so is Heather. No one deserves that kind of vilification in the media."
Joe Dolce then addressed the editors of the papers directly, demanding to know "what's the matter, you, gotta no respect."