Other gifts are less grand but more useful. Twelve engraved champagne glasses and a fitted picnic case from Margaret. American towels and bathmats from Mrs Roosevelt. More touching still are the gifts from ordinary people whose generosity has left Elizabeth overwhelmed and humbled. They have sent handkerchiefs and nylon stockings, hand-knitted tea cosies and embroidered linen and clothing coupons to help with her trousseau. Knowing how hard so many people are struggling with austerity and rationing, Elizabeth is moved almost to tears by such thoughtfulness. All the coupons must be returned, though, as it is illegal to give them away, and she signs many letters of heartfelt thanks as they are posted back.

Together with Margaret, Crawfie, and her lady-in-waiting she has been opening most of the parcels as they arrive. Crawfie opened a round, heavy parcel with some trepidation. ‘I hope it’s not a bomb,’ she said but when she snatched off the last piece of paper it turned out to be a lump of rock, sent by an elderly Welshman for luck. A piece of Snowdon, he said. Another parcel contained two soggy pieces of burnt toast, sent by two young women who were so excited at hearing news of the engagement that they let their toast burn to a cinder. As proof of their story they posted the charred toast together with a really charming letter of congratulation which made up for the disgusting mess that fell out of the envelope at first.

Now all the presents have been put on display in St James’s Palace, and the royal family are due to inspect them with Philip and Queen Mary. At least Philip has put on a suit for the occasion, but his face is set and his manner abrupt. Elizabeth’s heart sinks the moment she sees him. Increasingly, it feels as if he is regretting their engagement and looking for a way out and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

The King is already cross about the smoke bomb, and matters aren’t improved when Philip falls out with her grandmother over a gift from Gandhi. It is a fringed lacework tray cloth made out of yarn spun by Gandhi himself on his own wheel, apparently at the suggestion of Mountbatten. Unfortunately, her grandmother mistakes it for a loincloth and is affronted.

‘Such an indelicate gift!’ she declares. ‘What a horrible thing!’

Instead of making allowances for her mistake, Philip immediately goes on the attack. ‘I don’t think it’s horrible at all,’ he says. ‘Gandhi is a wonderful man. A very great man.’

Queen Mary gives him a stony look in return and moves on in disgusted silence, which does nothing to improve Philip’s mood.

Chapter 46

Elizabeth has a bright smile fixed to her own face as she goes around the display, finding a comment for whenever she stops. She admires a refrigerator and a Singer sewing machine, though she doubts very much that she will use either. There is a television set, a 22-carat-gold coffee service, a mink coat. Hand-knitted tea-cosies are displayed between antique furniture, pieces of crystal and china of varying quality, a duffle coat trimmed with beaver sent by a man in Milwaukee and more than two thousand other gifts, large and small.