Thursday, 5 November 2026
Wednesday, 4 November 2026
Prince Harry wants a reconciliation - but it won’t happen his way | The Royal T
In today’s
episode of The Royal T, Camilla Tominey and Hannah Furness speak to Arthur
Edwards, a royal photographer who has been following the British Royal Family
for the past 50 years, ahead of the release of his new book ‘Cup of Tea,
Arthur?: My Extraordinary 50 Years Photographing the Royal Family’. He runs
through some of his biggest photo scoops, including the first time he met and
photographed Diana, Princess of Wales, as well as his disagreements with then
Prince Charles, who Arthur says has “matured” over the years as he has taken
the throne. Arthur, who works as The Sun’s principle royal photographer for
over half a century, also explains why he thinks the Royal Family needs a
figure like Prince Harry, who he once considered the institution’s “star”, and
why Arthur believes reconciliation in the form the Duke of Sussex would like
it, won’t happen.
Cup of
Tea, Arthur?: My Extraordinary 50 Years Photographing the Royal Family, a must
have for 2026
by Arthur
Edwards (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
#1 Best
Seller
in
Celebrity Photography
'Arthur’s
experience in the role is unparalleled and this is a truly captivating memoir
of an extraordinary career, told by the man the royals themselves seek out in
the crowd.' Emily Nash.
‘Arthur
Edwards is one of the greatest newspaper photographers in history and a man
whose professionalism and charm have made him liked and respected by many
members of the royal family.’ Piers Morgan
After
half a century in the best job in the world, I have covered two hundred royal
tours in more than a hundred and twenty countries, photographed seven royal
weddings, five funerals, seven births, three Jubilees and a coronation.
For more
than fifty years, Arthur Edwards has been the definitive photographer of the
British royal family, capturing their most private and historic moments.
This
beautifully illustrated memoir traces Arthur's remarkable journey from growing
up as the son of a lorry driver in London’s East End, to earning the trust of
the Royal Family and becoming a close friend to King Charles and Queen Camilla.
Now,
Arthur tells his stories behind the photographs – revealing the moments he had
previously kept private, and the untold stories behind his remarkable access to
the most photographed family in the world.
They say
the harder you work, the luckier you get.
‘He’s a
very good photographer, a jolly good bloke and a very special person.’ King
Charles III
Tuesday, 3 November 2026
REMEMBERING 6 Nov 2024: Where is Lord Lucan? | Lucan | Official Trailer - BBC / Lucan review
Review
Lucan review
– stick with this wild documentary to the end and you will be astonished
Fifty years
ago, Lord Lucan murdered Sandra Rivett then disappeared. This surreal series
follows the victim’s son as he hunts down the fugitive peer – and ends up
somewhere totally unexpected
Rebecca
Nicholson
Wed 6 Nov
2024 22.00 GMT
https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2024/nov/06/lord-lucan-bbc-documentary-review
Richard John
Bingham, the 7th Earl of Lucan, was declared dead in 1999, but that did nothing
to halt the highly profitable cottage industry of speculation about him, which
has chugged away since 1974, when he murdered Sandra Rivett, his children’s
nanny, then disappeared.
At first
glance, you might think that this three-part documentary will be another
contribution to this conspiracy-minded canon. But this is not a “have we found
him?” film. I cannot emphasise enough how much it is worth sticking with it
until the end. What unspools is a sometimes tender, sometimes troubling
rollercoaster that ends up in surreal and unexpected territory. There is a fake
monk, catfishing, drag queens and Timothy Leary. You have probably not seen
this side of the Lord Lucan story before.
The first
episode is the most straightforward. The film-maker Colette Camden has found a
new way of outlining what happened on 7 November 1974. A builder in Hampshire
called Neil Berriman thinks he has tracked down Lucan, she explains. (There is
a strong argument that the true subject of the episodes is Berriman, not
Lucan.) Berriman’s mother, who had adopted him, would talk to him about a
“brown envelope” containing information about his biological parents. For
years, he wasn’t interested in even looking for it, but when he did eventually
open it, it delivered a shock: newspaper cuttings about one of Britain’s most
notorious crimes of the 20th century. It revealed that his birth mother was
Rivett, the woman who had been looking after Lucan’s children for mere weeks
when he bludgeoned her to death.
As you would
expect from a modern documentary, and one which involves Rivett’s son, this
shifts its emphasis from the headline-generating exploits of the “fugitive
Lord” – the profligate gambler and drunk, known to his friends, ironically, as
“Lucky” – to the 29-year-old woman whom he murdered, the justice he eluded and
the consequences of this violent crime for those left behind.
Berriman has
made it his mission to learn everything he can about the case – seemingly to
the concern of his family – and episode one provides an overview of what he has
discovered. There are interviews with people who knew Rivett, who knew Lucan,
who attended the crime scene; and with people who, like Berriman, have made the
investigation their primary focus (although without having the same personal
attachment).
It is here
that the series starts to rev up and speed off into the distance, where it
shape-shifts into something else entirely. Berriman has spent years working
with the investigative reporter Glen Campbell, who has reported on the case
extensively (and called his dog Lucan). They have pursued countless theories
and potential sightings. The film joins them as they are on their way to
confront a man they have tracked down in Australia, whom they seem certain is
the aristocrat.
To watch
this with a critical eye is to notice that we, the viewers, cannot see or hear
much of their evidence: a confidential police report that would compromise the
job of the person who leaked it; a detail given off‑camera by Lucan’s brother. There are a lot of people saying “bullshit”. Often, there is no clear sense of
what is true and what the people at the heart of this story want to believe.
(There is, however, a clear sense of how much some of these men will make
excuses for a friend who brutally murdered a woman – a small but deeply
depressing detail.)
It is not a
rigorous investigation so much as an empathic portrait of human obsession.
Camden is evidently fond of Berriman, and her involvement in the story grows
more pronounced as the episodes progress. I kept thinking of The Journalist and
the Murderer, Janet Malcolm’s classic study of journalistic ethics and the
relationship between reporter and subject, wondering to what extent this
documentary exists in a murky area. The programme gives Berriman (and, by
extension, Rivett) a voice – and it’s hard to deny that he deserves that voice.
By the time
Lucan explodes into its surreal final act, you will be feeling astonished and
uneasy about some of the people caught up in the whirlwind of pursuit. This
extraordinary documentary lingers in the mind and leaves a lot more questions
behind it than whether or not Lucan lived beyond 1974.
Lucan airs on BBC Two and is available on BBC
iPlayer
REMEMBERING: The never ending story of 'Lord Lucan's Disappearance'
![]() |
| Neil Berriman says Lucan, who vanished after the murder of Sandra Rivett in 1974, lives as a Buddhist in a shared house. |
SEE ALSO:
Monday, 2 November 2026
12 British Criminals Who Vanished and Were Never Found
Some
committed high-stakes robberies, others were notorious mob figures, and a few
carried out infamous crimes before completely evaporating. This countdown
explores 12 British criminals who vanished without a trace—examining the clues,
wild theories, and decades of cold-case investigations surrounding figures like
Kevin Parle, Bible John, and Lord Lucan.
Sunday, 1 November 2026
How the Fork Was Laughed Out of England
Count the
forks at the next grand dinner you attend (what you do mean you don't have an
invitation yet?) and you might assume that the more silver laid out beside your
plate, the grander your host must be.
But by a set of unwritten and peculiarly British rules, the opposite is
true.
Too many
forks is vulgar!
In this
film I trace the fork’s surprisingly bumpy journey to the British table, from a
medieval world in which a great lord ate with his knife, his spoon, his bread
and his fingers, to an Edwardian dinner party at which ten guests might face
five hundred pieces of cutlery and crockery.
Along the
way we meet Henry VIII picking at candied fruit with a little two-pronged
silver “suckett fork”, and Thomas Coryat, the Jacobean traveller who came home
from Italy in 1611 full of enthusiasm for forks, only to be mocked as
“Furcifer” for his trouble.
We’ll see
why it took Charles II and his courtiers, returning from exile in 1660, to make
the fork respectable at last, and why that same year also brought back the
oldest object in the Crown Jewels, which happens to be a spoon.
Then
comes the nineteenth century, when service à la Russe, with dinner served
course by course rather than all at once, gave hosts the perfect excuse to go
shopping for cake forks, fish knives and fruit knives.
And then
comes the backlash, because once everyone could own forks, the real test of
class became knowing which ones to leave in the drawer.
I finish
with John Betjeman’s merciless satire on suburban pretension, the 1950s panic
about “U” and “non-U” vocabulary, and the one word lying on the dinner table
that a certain kind of Briton would never, ever say out loud.
You’ll
have to watch to the end to find out what it is!





