She pulled her bed jacket around her and called out, ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Alah.’ The door opened and a hand appeared holding a cup of tea, followed by Alah in her dressing gown.

‘I wanted to see how you are and thought you might like a cup?’

This kindness provoked a sudden outpouring of Crawfie’s tears.

‘Now, now,’ Alah said gently, ‘What on earth has happened?’

Crawfie told her everything, Alah’s lips getting tighter with disapproval as the story progressed.

Crawfie wiped her eyes and sniffed. ‘So, you see, anything could have happened to him. I am so worried.’

Alah thought carefully before saying, ‘Now, dear, if I know men, they always fall on their feet. A pound to a penny he’ll turn up sooner or later. Why, at this moment, he’s probably reading the morning paper and eating a full English somewhere. Mark my words.’ She patted Crawfie’s hands. ‘I think it’s best we keep this between ourselves.’

Crawfie agreed. ‘Please don’t tell Bobo. She’s a dear but … well, you know.’

‘She’ll hear nothing from me.’ Alah patted her hand again.

Crawfie was exhausted and empty of further tears. She asked pitifully, ‘But what shall I do? Should I report him missing?’

‘Maybe in a few days but not now. No news is good news, isn’t it? You’re bound to hear from him soon.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Now, you get yourself up and dressed and ready for the schoolroom.’

‘Good morning, Crawfie,’ the two Princesses chimed as they entered the schoolroom, followed by Dookie the corgi.

‘Good morning, girls and Master Dookie.’ Crawfie bent to tickle the dog’s ears. ‘And how are you with a paint brush, young sir?’

The Princesses giggled. ‘He can paint muddy paws up the stairs,’ Margaret said.

Lilibet crouched down to pat him. ‘He’s very good at that. And getting fur on Alah’s favourite chair.’

‘Well, he’ll have to be a very good boy if he is to stay for lessons today.’ Crawfie straightened up, her head suddenly swimming with the rush of blood to her head and lack of sleep.

‘Why?’ asked Margaret.

‘Because I don’t want him dipping his tail in the paint pot.’

The girls laughed again. ‘He will be good, we promise.’

Dookie skulked under the girls’ desk and flopped down with a sigh. ‘See?’ said Lilibet.

Crawfie didn’t usually encourage Dookie to visit the schoolroom, but she didn’t have the mental energy to throw him out today.

‘What are we painting?’ Margaret asked.

‘I hope it’s a horse,’ said Lilibet.

‘Well, yes, it is.’ Crawfie went to the large book on her desk and turned to the page she had marked with a strip of paper. ‘It’s a painting of a horse called Molly Long Legs. She was a famous racehorse and here is a picture of her with her jockey.’ She held the book up in front of the girls, who were instantly enraptured. ‘She’s a brown horse.’

Lilibet interrupted. ‘You mean she’s a bay. That’s what a brown horse is called.’