A Jubilee for all the Royal family, except poor Archie and Lilibet - Christa Ackroyd

These were different. They were oh so trendy and, more importantly, shop bought. They bore the must-have labels of the day – Chelsea Girl, C & A and one particular favourite even came from Biba.

I never thought of them as hand me downs. They were manna from heaven to a young would-be teenager wanting to be far more grown up than she was.

Cousin Judy also wore tights not socks and more importantly was allowed to use make-up, bright blue eye shadow, pearly white highlighter and the strange-coloured lipsticks of the seventies that she let me have once they were nearly finished, prompting my father to exclaim: “You’re not going out with that muck on your face. You look ill!”

So I wore it in secret because at 12 all I wanted to be was my cousin Judy. Cousin Judy had her own record player and a record collection to be proud of.

We played Simon & Garfunkel in her bedroom when I went to stay. Because every summer I stayed with all my cousins.

Judy lived on a farm. Claire and Louise lived, would you believe, overlooking a cemetery and were as a result wonderful at telling ghost stories in our shared room until the small hours of the morning. I still remember hiding under the bedcovers not daring to sleep.

My cousin Paul lived in Cornwall so I always spent a week with him and my aunty and uncle in the summer holidays too.

Not to mention my visits to a myriad of other aunties and uncles who were not related but were called as such because they were close friends of my parents.

We still laugh now at the mischief we got up to, the games we played and the giggles we shared.

We were, as our mums often said, thick as thieves.

Which is why for me the highlight of last weekend’s Jubilee celebrations, apart from that glorious uplifting afternoon tea shared by the Queen and Paddington Bear, was the antics of a group of cousins in full view of the cameras at the Jubilee Pageant.

Louis, you stole my heart. What a boy. What a handful. And, more importantly, what a normal, funny individual little four year old you are.

Watching a family watch great-granny’s party was a gift. Senior cousin Savannah trying to keep the little ones occupied. Mia and Lena sitting with mummy and daddy Zara Phillips and Mike Tindall taking it all in and sharing sweeties with each other.

George with his head in his hands at his little brother’s inability to sit still and Charlotte telling him to stop waving as they rode in the carriage the day before.

August, only one year old, was there with mummy Eugenie, waving his flag.

And six-year-old Wolfie was also invited to join the gang with dad and stepmum Beatrice.

Cousins together making memories and creating a bond that hopefully will never be broken. All except two.

While the little ones enjoyed a real family day out, albeit a Royal Family day out, Archie and Lilibet were already on their way home.

Oh, what fun they missed. And why oh why were they not there?

I care not whether Harry was said by some to have been miffed that he was not called upon to be at the heart of the Jubilee weekend.

As the saying goes, he has made his own bed and must lie in it.

I do not know if they were banned from having a photograph taken at Lilibet’s first meeting with the Queen lest it appear on some American TV programme or in a book yet to be published.

But I am certain of one thing. Harry will miss out if he continues to keep his family at arm’s length from those he was once so close to, including his brother, his cousins and their children too.

As for his father, my heart melted when Louis pushed passed his siblings and Camilla to get to Grandpa.

Never have I seen Prince Charles so relaxed as he bounced him on his knee. It was clear they adored each other, clear they knew each other and obvious they enriched each other’s lives. Because that is family.

And that is exactly what those two little ones holed up in a gated community in Monticeto will miss out on unless things change.

And that saddens me as someone who had such fun with my cousins and grandparents, as I am sure we all did.

Last weekend I had high hopes for Harry and Meghan that they would come home and enter into the spirit of things as the nation did.

That they skulked off home in their private plane just as the Queen made her unexpected final appearance on the balcony to a sea of cheering people was for me the final nail in the coffin as far as this couple goes.

And one I think Harry in particular will live to regret as they become more and more irrelevant to a nation that turned out in force to celebrate our Monarch’s remarkable reign.

Last weekend brought us joy.

It brought us together and it brought a family together to honour a woman who, above all, has served with dignity and grace.

I just wish Harry and Meghan could have climbed down from their incredibly high horse and done the same.