In Depth:  Andy Prime

I was born in 1986, one year before my grandad left Charlotte Chapel. So my experience of him being the pastor of a local church is sleeping through most of his sermons during my first year of life (something I later learned that not many other people did during his preaching!).

My earliest memories are predominantly of my Granny. In their flat in Spottiswoode Street me and the rest of the cousins would swarm around her for Winnie the Pooh stories, the greatest Yorkshire puddings in the world, Vienetta ice-cream, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Annie, and Pinocchio on VHS tapes recorded from the telly. She gave the greatest hugs, the sloppiest kisses, and was painstakingly thorough at drying in between your toes and in your ears after a bath.