Had he been unhappy? Now that the Comtesse has pointed it out, Philip knows it was true. Andrea had had a wife, admittedly eccentric, and a large and happy family, but they were never enough. Oh, he had loved them, but perhaps none of them could make up for the loss of his home.

You must find a home, Philip. Find a place you can belong and be happy.

Andrea had loved his son, but the truth was that he had handed over responsibility to the Mountbattens, Georgie and Dickie. Could he do any better as a father? Philip wonders.

What would that be like, to have a son? To have a family of his own? A home?

If he marries Elizabeth, he could have all of that.

His son, if he has one, could be King of England.

He has to ask Elizabeth to marry him first.

Enough drifting, Philip decides abruptly. His sisters are getting on with their lives. It is time he knuckles down and does the same.

Chapter 24

Buckingham Palace, May 1946

‘We haven’t seen much of Philip lately.’ The Queen pours another cup of coffee and glances with studied casualness at Elizabeth who is gazing abstractedly out of the window.

Sunshine is pouring into the breakfast room, striping the mahogany table and making the silver lids on the jam pots flash. Outside, the sky is a soft clear blue. After a disappointingly cool start to spring, the air has warmed over the past few days and the last leaves on the trees in the palace garden have unfurled in a fresh flourish of green. Elizabeth is wishing that she were at Windsor. It is a perfect day for a ride.

Or to spend with Philip. He might drive her down to Coppins where Marina is always so relaxed and welcoming and you’re allowed to curl up on a sofa with your feet tucked up beneath you. Elizabeth likes being there, with Philip lounging in an armchair and the dogs’ paws twitching as they sleep. It feels as if that is what a home should be like.

But Philip isn’t here.

‘Lilibet.’ Margaret nudges her beneath the table with her foot. ‘You’re daydreaming again.’

‘What? Oh, sorry.’ Elizabeth picks up her knife and resumes buttering her toast. ‘What was that, Mummy?’

‘I was just saying that Philip hasn’t been around as much.’

Elizabeth doesn’t miss the hopeful note in the Queen’s voice. Her parents would like it if she lost interest in Philip.

‘He’s in France at the moment.’

Philip has written to her about his visit to his sisters in Germany, but Elizabeth decides not to share that with her mother. His German relatives are a sore point with the Queen. He has told her about his meeting with the Comtesse de la Bigne, too, and the villa where his father died. He described the bougainvillaea scrambling over the terrace and the heady smell of mimosa. He has told her that Prince Andrea left debts of over £17,000, seven-tenths of which is mine, he added wryly. I am afraid it is not much of an inheritance.