“It is utterly hideous. You look like a beached whale wrapped in a barber’s pole. Go and take it off, for God’s sake.” And she started to laugh. “Absolutely hideous. Never seen anything worse in my life. Oh my God. It will probably give me nightmares!”

Queenie went to say something, then glared and pushed past me into her room. I followed. “You do understand, don’t you, Queenie? There’s a gossip columnist at the pool. The press would love to print pictures of you, and then the queen would see them and be mortified.”

She looked like a deflated balloon and as usual I felt sorry for her. “Maybe we’ll find a way to go to the beach soon. I’m sure nobody would mind if you swam in the ocean there.”

“Well, I don’t want to wear my uniform,” she said. “It’s too ruddy hot for this weather and I sweat something terrible.”

“I understand,” I said. “I had no idea we’d be away long in a climate like this. I’ll arrange for a lighter uniform. I’m sure Ronnie can make one appear by magic for you.”

“And I don’t have to stay in my room in the bungalow all the time, do I? There’s not enough space to swing a cat in here.”

“No, I think you could take a walk and explore the surroundings when I don’t need you,” I said, sure that Queen Mary would have told a servant that of course it was her place to stay close to her mistress in case she was needed. I feared I’d never be a good mistress of a stately home one day. I went to change and was just coming into the living room when there was a light tap at the front door. Since Claudette was nowhere to be seen I went to open it. A woman stood there, her face layered with an overwhelming amount of makeup, her hair the brightest blonde I had ever seen, and she was wearing a strapless peacock blue top over which a considerable amount of flesh was bulging.

“You must be the young royal lady,” she said. “Barbara just told me about you and I thought I should do the friendly thing and come over and welcome you to our country.” And she dropped a really awkward curtsy, making me cringe with embarrassment and wonder if the rest of her breasts were about to appear from the strapless top.

“Oh please. That’s not necessary,” I said. “I’m actually only a lady, not a princess. And I’m told that in America everyone is equal.”

She laughed. “Who told you that? We have our own kings and queens, you know, only here it’s who has the most money.” She held out a chubby hand. “I’m Dolores. Dolores Hanford.”