It’s been a bad year for the Sussexes – the least we can all do is wish them a Happy Holiday Season…

When I first laid eyes on the Sussexes’ ludicrous Christmas card, I was tempted to join in the mockery. “Happy Holiday Season”, indeed. For pity’s sake. They’ve managed to produce a Christmas card that doesn’t mention Christmas.

On reflection, though, I’ve decided to keep my jokes to myself. This may sound surprising given that, ever since the couple quit the Royal family for the United States in January 2020, I’ve ridiculed everything from their Oprah interview (“How do you feel about the Palace hearing you speak your truth?”) to Harry’s job as a “chief impact officer” at a Californian life-coaching firm (“an authentic workplace where people bring their full selves to the table”).

All of a sudden, however, I find myself troubled by an unprecedented thought. It’s not easy to admit, but let me put it like this…

Is anyone else starting to feel sorry for Harry and Meghan?

All right, so they may be tedious, cloying, talentless, whiny and insufferably sanctimonious. But just look at what a rotten 2024 the poor things have had. Everything seems to be falling apart.

The launch of Meghan’s much-trumpeted “lifestyle brand” – flogging her fancy jam and so on – keeps being delayed, reportedly because of trademark issues over the name American Riviera Orchard. Harry’s new television series about polo has been absolutely panned (even the Guardian called it “unintentionally hilarious”). A Netflix insider has told The Daily Mail that Meghan’s planned cookery show may never see the light of day. And as for the streaming platform signing them up to another £80 million production deal – fat chance. That contract is looking like an even bigger waste of money than the couple’s podcast deal with Spotify, which came to an abrupt end last year.

Meanwhile, previously supportive US media outlets appear to have turned against them. Two years ago, The Cut – a trendy website owned by the achingly liberal New York Magazine – ran a gushing interview with Meghan about her wonderful new life in California (“She stands and smiles with the perfect level of warmth, the gleam of her teeth rivaled [sic] only by the shininess of her blowout”). But last week, it published a piece witheringly headlined: “Harry and Meghan’s projects can’t stop flopping”.

No matter how preeningly narcissistic the couple may seem, surely even they must now have realised what the source of their woes is? The fact is: people were only interested in hearing what Harry and Meghan had to say when they were dishing the dirt on the Royal family. Hence, in January last year, the record-breakingly vast sales of Harry’s memoir Spare, with all its eye-popping claims about his brother, father and stepmother. But every time he, and Meghan, start talking about any other topic – be it sport, jam or social justice – the world turns off. No one cares. Now that the Sussexes have finished flogging all the family secrets, they’ve got nothing that anyone wants.

Anyway, as if all that weren’t bad enough, worse may be to come. Because Nigel Farage is publicly hinting that, when Donald Trump takes office again, he could reconsider Harry’s US visa.

Of course, Farage may just be trolling. We know how he loves a bit of mischief. But even if Trump lets Harry off the hook, the future looks bleak. Because if the Sussexes can’t make a success of life in America, and run out of money, they might end up having to slink back to Britain anyway.

An alarming prospect – for us, as much as for them. Which is why, if Meghan’s jam ever does come on the market, I’m going to order a case of it every week. The alternative just doesn’t bear thinking about.