Alexander Larman

The Royal Family may have hoped that 2024 would begin in a quieter fashion than last year did, but if so, they must be disappointed. Once again, the reason for their unease is a revelatory book, this time Robert Hardman’s new biography Charles III: The Inside Story. First came the disclosure that the Queen was incensed by Harry and Meghan naming their daughter Lilibet. Today’s story is that Prince William – not a man noted for his interest in ecclesiastical matters, it must be said – is considering breaking with the Church of England when he becomes monarch. It seems incredible that the new monarch would ever wish to disassociate the Royal Family from the church Once, this story would have been truly jaw-dropping in its implications.

Amidst the endless controversy that surrounds Harry and Meghan, there was at least one topic that seemed to be innocuous enough: the Christian name that they chose to give their now 2-year old daughter. She was named Lilibet, a reference to the childhood nickname Elizabeth II was given by her father George VI. The choice of name was widely seen as a rather self-conscious form of homage by the Duke and Duchess of Sussex to the one member of the Royal Family that both claimed to venerate. It was disliked by some courtiers who regarded its use as ‘bewildering’ and ‘rather presumptuous’.

During the eighteen months or so that Charles has reigned, there is a great deal to commend him for. Two confidently delivered King’s speeches at Christmas; a genuine interest at dealing with his subjects that far exceeds the often rote 'Have you come far?' formalism of his mother. There has even been a compassionate hand extended to his troublesome younger son – although this seems an uncertain and unhappy state of affairs, given Prince Harry’s volatility and near-obsession with court cases. Yet there is one area in which King Charles might be commended on a personal level but deserves criticism in his role as monarch: his continued loyalty to his disgraced younger brother Prince Andrew.

Four days in, and 2024 shows every sign of being yet another annus horribilis for Prince Andrew. After – by his, admittedly reduced, standards – a triumphant Christmas, in which he processed to church at Sandringham with the rest of the Royal Family and, bizarrely, an apparently rehabilitated Fergie, the cold clear light of reality has intruded once again. To kick things off, Andrew is facing the prospect of not one, but two docudramas raking over the humiliation of his Newsnight interview. (The potentially consolatory fact that he is to be played in them by Rufus Sewell and Michael Sheen respectively has been dampened by the fact the famously handsome Sewell is having to wear prosthetics to play the not-so-grand Duke of York).

Say what you like about Netflix and Peter Morgan, the producers and creator of The Crown respectively, but they’ve certainly gone out in a blaze of either glory or outrage. The final six episodes of the sixth season were released separately to the first four, and it isn’t hard to see why. Taken cumulatively, their daring blend of fantasy, heavily fictionalised historical events and mischievous provocation amount to nothing less than the send-off that this always divisive and perennially popular show has merited since it began in 2016. It would take too long to detail all the divergences from the truth that the final episodes offer.

There’s that well-known saying of 'anything you can do, I can do better'. In what can only be an attempt to upstage the official Royal Family’s latest offering, this seems to be the credo of Harry and Meghan as they release a new, wholly vainglorious video showing the ‘impact’ of the Archewell foundation in 2023. If you’ve ever seen a teenager create a flashy 'what I did on my holidays' clip that is clearly designed to go viral on social media, you’ll have a good idea of what to expect from this entirely immodest offering. Over a tinkly would-be power anthem that begins with the lyrics 'Over the hills and far away/Looking out for a better day' – remind you of anyone else living in a land far, far away?

Ever since 2021’s absurd Oprah Winfrey interview, in which the Duchess of Sussex coyly suggested that a member of the Royal Family had speculated about what colour her then-unborn first child’s skin would be, there has been an egregious fascination with the identity of the notorious figure known only as ‘the royal racist’. Speculation has swirled around virtually every member of the Firm – if you want to edify yourself further, the words ‘royal family’ and ‘racist’ entered into the right search engine will eventually lead you to the probable culprit. But although their identity has been hiding in plain sight for a considerable period of time, there has been a refusal to name this man or woman.