PICTURE the scene as David Beckham gets ready for a night on the town. He appears from his luxury en-suite bathroom, gold taps and all, and protests, "No Victoria, I ain't gonna wear your fong tonite."

This is a figment of my imagination and I am quite happy to leave it at that. However due to our nation's lust for gossip and scandal, the Beckham's nanny Abbie Gibson has successfully transformed fiction into reality this week, apparently confirming the suspicions that all is not rosy in the Beckham household.

Gibson, 27, spilled the beans, revealing intimate details about the couple's private lives. For an alleged fee of £300,000, the nanny told the News of the World of ferocious arguments, infidelities and a possible split.

The Beckhams tried to prevent the revelations being printed by presenting the case to the High Court emphasising that in releasing private details Abbie Gibson was breaching a confidentiality agreement.

Surprisingly, their attempts were in vain and the couple failed to win an injunction against Gibson. The judge presiding over the case stated that the story was in the public interest and it was hailed a victory for press freedom.

How these revelations were in the public interest is beyond me. I know we are turning into a nation of voyeurs and that the line between public and private life is blurred, but is it really in our best interests to know the graphic details of a celebrity marriage in turmoil?

Of course there's the argument that in the vicious world of celebrity one must live and die by the sword and that if you use the media to enhance your career, you must be prepared to face the consequences. But in this case, the argument doesn't wash, as not only were the pages and pages of revelations totally gratuitous, but the whole issue has now opened the doors for other domestic staff to sell stories about their employers.

The Beckhams may be guilty of presenting a sanitised image of their life together, but isn't that what we all do? You may have a blazing row behind closed doors, but when you set foot over that threshold and into the outside world, you are the perfect couple beaming with a halo of marital bliss.

I suspect this episode is probably the best thing that could have happened to the Beckhams because it has created a wave of public sympathy unseen before in any previous reaction to the bad press they have received.

This is because, although we have a liking for the vulgar, we also have a fierce loathing of injustice. It is deplorable to think you invite someone into your own home, you provide them with a livelihood, entrust them with the care of your children and then they choose to profit from the privilege.

I believe the public realise that no one, not even an ex-Spice Girl, deserves this kind of betrayal. After all, an Englishman's home is his castle and what goes on within should remain private. If Posh wants to have a barney with her husband in her pyjamas, that's her business.

The moral of this story is be very careful about who you invite into your home. Perhaps Mrs Doubtfire is not as loyal as she may seem. After all, heaven help us if sordid tales of dirty pots in the sink or unmade beds were to escape into the public domain.

The fee for this column is donated to the York City FC Development Fund

Updated: 08:43 Saturday, April 30, 2005