Diana groupies maintain their vigil

Where's John?" asks Susan, a smartly dressed elderly woman, as she joins the small group waiting for seats in the public gallery at the inquest into the death of Diana, Princess of Wales.

John, with 'Diana' written on his forehead and 'Dodi' across his cheeks in blue face paint, has been at the front of this queue every day since the inquest started four months ago, having given up his job as a chef at a golf club to attend.

Middle-aged with an anxious, high-pitched voice, he rises at five every morning, leaving his home in Enfield, north London in time to arrive outside the Royal Courts of Justice by 7am. On the first three days of the hearing, he slept outside the court to make sure he got in.

These days he doesn't need to bother. There have been spare seats in the roped-off public area of the High Court almost every

day and the overflow marquee, with space for 100 more spectators, is often empty.

Paul Burrell, who has drawn the biggest crowd so far, only half-filled the extra tent. But John hasn't allowed himself any lie-ins: "I don't want this to be handed me on a plate. I am doing it for Diana. I want to know the truth," he says.

John soon rejoins the group of half-a-dozen Diana obsessives who are enthusiastically dissecting the previous day's evidence while waiting to take up their habitual seats in court. Susan spent the evening doing background research, such as phoning the Ritz to find out the alcohol content of the two glasses of Pastis allegedly drunk by chauffeur Henri Paul immediately before the crash.

Others have been re-reading court transcripts online, and have brought bags full of notebooks, newspaper cuttings and packed lunches. Lee-Jon, a scruffy middle-aged man who smells faintly unwashed, insists on taking my photo before chatting with me.

"I photograph everyone I meet," he