Andrea ‘Andy’ Campbell was born on 21 February 1960. She liked to say that her parents named her after the Queen’s second-born son, who entered the world two days beforehand. Whether or not this was true, Andy swiftly became not just interested in the family of her near-namesake, but positively obsessed. By the age of five, she was insisting on collecting memorabilia related to the Royal Family while her peers preferred to play with dolls and teddies. One of her prized possessions was Liza Sheridan’s book, A Day With Prince Andrew, which had been published in 1962 and gave a flattering insight into what everyday life was like for the two-year-old prince.
Andy’s own existence on a new-build housing estate on the edge of Basingstoke was rather less glamorous. By the time that she was a teenager, her bedroom had been turned into a shrine to all things monarchical, and she regularly petitioned her family to move to Windsor so that they would be within touching distance of her heroes. Throughout her life, she has had a favourite member of the Royal Family, in much the same way that others have preferred actors or pop stars.
When she was very young, she was fondest of the Queen Mother, on the grounds that she reminded her of her grandmother, Doris. After Doris’s death, caused by too much gin and cigarettes, the elder Elizabeth’s habits were rather too similarly self-indulgent for Andy to approve of. She therefore turned her fandom to Elizabeth II instead, although in her heart of hearts she knew that this was too easy an option, rather like saying that the Beatles were one’s favourite band.
Andy had early aspirations to work at Buckingham Palace, but her parents disliked the idea of their daughter slaving away ‘in service’, as they put it, and her unexceptional academic records ruled her out from anything more distinguished. Therefore she took on an admin job in the records office at Hampshire County Council, but she made sure to time her holidays around any major royal event.
Inevitably, she was in the crowd, aged 21, when Prince Charles married Princess Diana in 1981. On the day, she met a fellow monarchy obsessive – handily named Philip – and the two bonded over flag-waving and eager discussion of who their favourite royal photographer was. (Andy favoured Lord Snowdon, Philip was more of a Cecil Beaton man). They married within a year and their first daughter – Elizabeth, naturally, was born on 14 September 1984: the day before Prince Harry arrived in the world, as she once liked to tell everyone.
Andy and Philip have maintained their keen interest in all things royal for the past 45 years, yet if she was utterly honest, there have been moments of difficulty. When their second daughter was born, there was an argument over naming her Margaret or Ann. They eventually opted for the former, and, like her namesake, she has been a petulant, spoilt nightmare ever since. And when they were blessed with a son, Charles William Edward, they were disappointed to find that not only did he not share his parents’ enthusiasm for the royals, but that he secretly became a leading member of a Republican pressure group while still a teenager.
There have been other disappointments, too. Andy was present in the throng for both William and Harry’s weddings, waving her flag and shouting patriotic slogans for all she was worth, but while she continues to write effusively on Facebook about how handsome and dashing Prince William looks – and how beautiful Queen Catherine and the children are – Harry has been something of a disappointment, not least in his marriage to the woman whose name she will not utter. When Spare was published, Andy bought a copy and made a significant show of tearing it apart in public, page by page. Unfortunately, she had not considered what a lengthy book it would be and had to abandon the exercise in denunciation on page 112. 112. The recent news that Harry and She Who Must Not Be Named have returned to Britain led Andy to let fly with a few particularly choice expletives, somewhat to Philip’s surprise and dismay.
She was, of course, distraught by Queen Elizabeth’s death in 2022, and regarded queuing up all night to have ‘her moment of alone time’ with the late monarch’s coffin as one of the greatest days of her life. (Philip, alas, was unable to accompany her, pleading a bad back, which led her to have doubts about his true commitment to inconveniencing yourself in the face of royal service.) But a greater let-down has come more recently, as the tidal wave of bad publicity about her near-namesake has become overwhelming.
Andy has gone from half-heartedly defending Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, as he now is, to remaining determinedly silent on the topic of the Queen’s favourite son. Still, the other day she ‘liked’ a post on Facebook by one of her friends that suggested that, despite everything, she would still queue up to be given the Randy Andy treatment. Although she deleted her sign of approval a few moments later, and would have blamed it on a slip of the finger, the gesture indicated her deep and pervasive love of all things royal. It shows no signs of lessening, 66 years on.
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