SARAH VINE: The chickens have come dwelling to roost for Kate and Rio Ferdinand, Petra Eccleston, Made in Chelsea stars and influencers. Dubai’s fallen – it is SO clear what’s subsequent

Forget the fearless people of Iran, struggling to reclaim their country after nearly 50 years of violent oppression.

Forget the American pilots risking life and limb in the skies above Tehran, the anxious relatives, wondering if their loved ones are safe, the injured, the dead, the astonishing bravery of the young men and women who have put their lives on the line to bring about regime change.

Forget all that. The people we should really be focusing on are the 240,000 or so pampered expat Brits living in Dubai, caught up in the conflict and under fire from missile and drone strikes.

Having fled rainy old Blighty in search of sun, sea, sand and a selfishly tax-free existence, many now appear to want rescuing courtesy of, you guessed it: the good old British taxpayer, grinding away at home in Starmer’s socialist utopia.

Indeed, Government plans are under way for a mass evacuation by air, sea and, if necessary, land. Of course, not all are there for tax reasons. Some have got stuck while there on holiday, for work or even just in transit.

But there are plenty who live there permanently – many of them so-called influencers whose followers are largely British.

Obviously, no one wishes them any harm – and we pray they all get out unscathed. But one can’t help feeling a slight shiver of schadenfreude here.

Let’s face it, they’re not exactly desperate refugees, are they? Their numbers include the debatable Andrew Tate, who has a base in one of the city’s exclusive neighbourhoods, from where he broadcasts his bombastic credo to his armies of loser wannabes.

Then there are vast numbers of Z-listers like Arabella Chi, former Love Island contestant and self-styled lifestyle guru, who said her recent experiences were the ‘most scared I’ve ever been in my entire life’, while insisting she still felt safer there than in the UK (really?!).

Likewise Kady McDermott, another scantily clad alumna of the dating show, who described the situation as ‘scary times’.

All were careful to highlight the authorities’ handling of the situation (likely a wise move given the regime’s brutal crackdown on freedom of speech).

Former footballer Rio Ferdinand and his wife Kate lavished praise on the UAE government for doing an ‘amazing job’ keeping people safe – even though Kate let slip she couldn’t wait to get out of Dodge.

Meanwhile, Miles Nazaire (ex-Made In Chelsea) distinguished himself by uploading fashion posts in his boxers (‘Come date with me,’ he said) as the bombs were raining down. It seems all life can be leveraged as online content, even war.

Some were less sanguine, such as Petra Ecclestone, Formula 1 heiress, who recently moved to Dubai with her husband Sam and four children.

‘I feel like us and the family have been through a lot recently for personal reasons,’ she said, rather self-pityingly. ‘We came to Dubai to feel safe, and we finally felt like we were settling in, and now this has happened.’

Poor Petra. I mean, where is an heiress to go these days to ensure none of Daddy’s money ends up in the wrong hands?

Forgive me while I tune the strings on my tiniest violin.

To Ms Ecclestone and all the other British celebrities / influencers / OnlyFans porn actors who have, over the past few years, relocated to the UAE – did it never occur to them that there might be a price to pay for living barely 50 miles as the seagull flies from Iran?

Then again, if you’re an influencer, it’s easy to get used to the idea that you never have to pay for anything.

After all, pretty much everything you eat, drink, do or wear is ‘#gifted’. Nice work if you can get it. Last year, the influencer market was worth around £2 billion in the UK alone; globally it’s nudging £30 billion.

Dubai, with its holiday lifestyle and endless opportunities for luxury visuals and high-end product-placement, has emerged as a haven for those who make their living this way: a sunny place for shady people. Fair enough if that’s your philosophy in life.

But you can’t then expect the rest of us to bail you out.

And if the party really is well and truly over, the least you can do is pay for your own damn ticket home.

Dame Joan’s delicious quip

Dame Joan Collins has said she would ‘never dream’ of using weight-loss drugs because of the ‘disastrous’ effects on people’s looks, adding that those who want to lose a few pounds should simply ‘cut down’ instead.

This gives me the perfect opportunity to recount my favourite Dame Joan anecdote about when I had dinner with her and her delightful husband Percy.

She mentioned she needed to lose a few pounds. I told her she looked fabulous and I had resorted to fat jabs for my own weight problem. ‘Oh,’ she said, looking me up and down with that famous Alexis gaze. ‘What a shame. They don’t seem to have worked very well, do they?’

Scientists in Vienna have found that when people over 50 begin a new relationship and move in together, their general well-being increases significantly. Chance would be a fine thing. At 58 and single for several years now, I too have discovered a singular truth: men my age simply aren’t interested in women like me. They see themselves with someone at least ten years younger, ideally more.

Which in turn probably explains another common phenomenon: middle-aged women with too many dogs. Even if someone did condescend to date me, there wouldn’t be room on the sofa.

Ahead of World Book Day tomorrow, a study finds a book can be a more effective cure for loneliness than joining a club or volunteering. This so resonates with me. There is something about immersing yourself in a whole other world that makes this one – often so overwhelming – a bit more bearable. 

We’re all mad now

The Monster Raving Loony Party – founded in 1982 by Screaming Lord Sutch, and increasingly relevant in today’s Pythonesque political climate – wants to replace immigration officers with GP receptionists. Not such a bad idea, when you think about it. 

At times like these, there are three people I turn to who remind me that life is not all doom and gloom.

The first is Pam Ayres, whose poems always make me smile. Yesterday, she posted one on X: ‘Dang those pesky squirrels! Dang their thieving souls! I planted 20 tulip bulbs. And now got 20 holes.’

The second is Gyles Brandreth because… well, he’s Gyles Brandreth. And the third is the Japanese ambassador to Britain, Hiroshi Suzuki, who this week delivered the most fantastically tuneless rendition of the Welsh national anthem (Land Of My Fathers) in honour of St David’s Day.

Pure joy.

I don’t think it’s ‘cruel’ to say that Kelly Osbourne looks dangerously thin; the poor woman is clearly struggling. Whatever the cause, those who love her have a duty of care to help.