It was a magnificent occasion, and the pomp and ceremony had struck a chord, bringing home as never before Philip’s position as a prince, his membership of a royal family. He even toyed with the idea of staying in Greece and joining the Greek navy. His father, though, vetoed the idea in no uncertain terms and Philip is glad now that he did. If he had a home at all, it was not Greece, but England.

Philip’s arrival at the Gezira Club that night is met with cries of delight. Uncle Georgie greets him with an extravagant hug. No cool shaking of hands for the King of Greece. ‘Philip! The very person I wanted to see! Now, come over here, my dear boy. I need to talk to you.’

Ignoring the pouts of the women, Georgie leads Philip out onto a quiet part of the terrace and offers him a cigarette. ‘I had your letter,’ he says.

Philip clicks his lighter to light first his uncle’s cigarette and then his own. ‘And?’ he asks, blowing out smoke.

‘I was very pleased to get it. I don’t need to tell you that an alliance with the British royal family would be immeasurably useful to us as a family. I have hopes that I will be able to return to Athens one day, in which case the British would be powerful allies.

‘I wrote to Bertie, of course, telling him that you had, as was proper, informed me as head of the family of your intentions towards Princess Elizabeth. I asked formally if he would consider you as a suitor.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said she is too young for now. I understand he and the Queen think that she hasn’t had much chance to meet any other young men yet.’

‘That’s rot,’ Philip says hotly. ‘Windsor Castle is stuffed with Grenadier Guards. Elizabeth has the officers to lunch every week, for God’s sake! If anything, she meets more young men than she does girls. Bloody Porchey is always hanging around.’ He smokes moodily. ‘The Queen wants to marry Elizabeth off to some tedious aristocrat in her hunting, fishing, and shooting set. She doesn’t like me, that’s the problem.’

‘I suspect it’s not you so much as your family. It would have been helpful if your aunts had been less forthright in their opinions about the Queen when she married Bertie but women … what can you do?’ Georgie shrugged and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘I’m sorry, Philip, but the upshot is that I am to tell you not to think any more about Lilibet for the present.’

Philip scowls down at the cigarette in his hand, remembering that he had been in two minds after Christmas about whether to write to his uncle or not. He had decided definitely not to, in fact, until that lunch at Coppins when Elizabeth’s smile had held a cooler edge for some reason. Perversely, that had made him want her, and he had changed his mind, dashing off a letter to Georgie. He’d regretted committing himself on more than one occasion since and wished he could recall his request that Elizabeth’s father consider him as a suitor for his daughter. He should have been feeling relieved that the matter need go no further, but instead Philip finds himself outraged.