THEY were blonde. They were stars. And all three died suddenly and shockingly. Diana, Jill Dando and Paula Yates lived and died in the headlines. And the inescapable fear is that the headlines killed them.

Fame is more often a curse than a blessing. All three of these women chose to become famous. They enjoyed the privileged lifestyle that fame can buy. But they would probably be alive today if they had chosen obscurity rather than celebrity.

Both Diana and Jill Dando suffered violent deaths; Diana in a car crash and Jill at the hands of a gunman. Paula Yates, we are told, died in her bed, an empty bottle of vodka, heroin and pills beside her.

Diana's death is the only one we can say with total certainty was a direct consequence of her fame. The public had a limitless appetite for news of the Princess. If she were alive today, there would probably be a 24-hour Diana satellite channel and webcam Internet site.

As it was, her every movement was dogged by the paparazzi. The photographers were pursuing her car when its drunken driver lost control in a Paris tunnel. That was the biggest Diana news event of all.

A motive for Jill's death has not been publicly established. The trial of the man accused of her murder has yet to begin. But the police were pursuing several lines of inquiry linked to her job as a TV presenter.

So what of Paula? Britain shuddered with horror on hearing that her body was discovered by her four-year-old daughter, Tiger Lily. We all feel desperately for a little girl who has lost both parents in such grim and public circumstances.

The real fear now is that this wretched double tragedy will blight her chances of leading a happy, confident life. She is already a vicarious victim of the fame game.

The exact circumstances of Paula's death may never be known. But stardom certainly played a part. She was the product of celebrity parents, the ex-Bluebell Girl Helene Thornton and Jess Yates, of ITV's Stars On Sunday. It was later claimed that her real father was Hughie Green, host of Opportunity Knocks.

Paula complained of being unloved as a child. She grew up scrapping for attention, as a rock chick then a TV presenter. Fame did not bring her happiness. But she did find joy in her relationship with Australian rocker Michael Hutchence. When he died, her world appeared to collapse.

A romantic view of her death might suggest she died of a broken heart, a fate which afflicts ordinary people and celebrities alike. But that is unlikely to be the verdict on the death certificate.

Paula had greater opportunities to harm herself because she grew up amid the booze, pills and drugs of showbusiness. Some stars avoid the sleazier side of the industry, others grow out of it. Paula, it seems, did neither.

The deaths of these three women are only the latest sacrifices to the insatiable fame god. All three, Diana, 36, Jill, 38, and Paula, 41, were about to embark on new phases of their lives. Diana was ready to become Britain's roving ambassador and was involved in a new relationship. Jill was about to get married. Paula had discussed resuming her TV career.

All that hope is gone. Their sudden deaths mean they are destined to be remembered in any number of trashy biographies, TV movies and hasty documentaries. That is not the immortality they would have wished for.

And we will learn nothing from their deaths. Celebrity, of whatever sort, now seems to be the greatest ambition of the young. We need only look at the Big Brother phenomenon to know that people will do anything for their moment in the spotlight. Even now, the next victims of the fame god are being carefully reared.