She wishes she could tell every single person down there how proud she is of them, and how desperately, desperately glad she is that the long war with Germany is over and that they can all start living rather than surviving.

For Elizabeth this is the beginning. She has spent the entire war cloistered at Windsor, but now she is eighteen and ready to become a woman.

Her only regret is that Philip is not there to share this incredible moment with her.

Chapter 15

‘Isn’t the crowd marvellous?’ the Queen says when they step back inside, wrists aching from waving.

‘It’s going to be quite a night in London,’ Peter Townsend says. ‘I don’t think anybody is planning on going home tonight.’

‘I wish we could join in,’ Elizabeth says wistfully. All at once the thought of sitting tamely in the palace having supper while outside the capital celebrates is unendurable. She looks at her father. ‘Later, when it gets dark? We’d be perfectly safe. No one would hurt us, not tonight. There’ll never be another night like this.’

‘I don’t think—’ the King begins, but Margaret interrupts him, hanging around his neck as she used to when she was a little girl.

‘Please say we can, Papa. Please!’

‘But Margaret, what if someone recognises you?’

‘They won’t,’ says Margaret confidently. ‘We can slip out of the side exit. Lilibet’s right, this is a special night. We’ve missed out on so much, Papa. Please let us have tonight, at least?’

‘Poor darlings,’ their father sighs, a sure sign he is relenting. He has never been any good at resisting Margaret. ‘You’ve never had any fun. Very well, you can go – but not alone.’

‘I’ll go with them.’ Her mother’s brother steps forward as Margaret claps her hands in delight. ‘They deserve to be part of this.’

‘Thank you, David. That would make me feel much better. Take Miss Crawford as well – she’s a sensible woman.’ The King glances around. ‘Major Phillips? Porchester? Would you go with them all and make sure no harm comes to them?’

They both salute smartly. ‘It would be an honour, sir.’

Again and again, they are called back to balcony. At five o’clock, the King asks Mr Churchill to join them. There is a strange moment of silence when the Prime Minister steps out between the King and Queen, as if in the midst of the celebrations, everyone is struck, suddenly, by just how much is owed to one man. Unfazed by the eerie silence, Churchill bows to the crowd, an expression of acknowledgement and gratitude for their support, and Elizabeth’s chest tightens at the roar of response.

As the light fades, she and Margaret and their escorts slip out of the side door of the palace. It’s easier than Elizabeth thought to simply walk out. She and Margaret exchange thrilled glances as they mingle with the crowds and let themselves get swept up the Mall and into Piccadilly. They link arms with Crawfie, Porchey and Major Phillips acting as buffers at either end, but it’s impossible to stay six abreast and their line soon breaks apart, much to Crawfie’s distress.