Queen Elizabeth II's lifelong servant Christopher Bray dies in his late seventies

Christopher Bray, who walked into Buckingham Palace as a school-leaver of 16 and stayed in the service of Queen Elizabeth II for the rest of his working life, has died in recent weeks.

HELLO! exclusively revealed the death on 14 October. Bray was believed to be in his late seventies.

He arrived straight from school. He stayed. That one choice shaped more than six decades, from teenage recruit to familiar presence around the late Queen.

He began as a footman, one of the liveried junior staff who serve at table, receive guests, carry messages and keep the daily routine of the house moving. The work included walking the Queen's corgis, the small house dogs most closely linked to her in the public mind. It is practical, visible work, done in uniform and often in full view.

Bray was later promoted to Page, a senior personal attendant who works at close quarters to the monarch through the working day. He served in that role alongside Paul Whybrew, another long-serving member of the household. The move from footman to Page is a move inward, from the corridors of the house to the person of the sovereign.

Queen Elizabeth II insisted he be called Chris. She said calling him Bray, the surname form traditionally used for male members of the household staff, was too formal. Surnames keep a distance. She did not want that distance.

She then named two of her gun dogs Christopher and Bray after him. Gun dogs are working dogs, kept for life outdoors rather than as house pets. To give them his Christian name and his surname was a direct and personal compliment, of the kind she rarely spelled out.

What stands out is the continuity. A boy of 16 joins the Palace and remains with one employer and one monarch into his late seventies. Few working lives now run in a single place. His did.

Bray was described as both a close friend and a long-time colleague of the late Queen. The account of his death gives no further details, beyond the outline of a life spent entirely in her service. It is a quiet record. It speaks for itself.