She looked at the little Princesses, their heads bent over a huge book about RMS Queen Mary that the Duke had had fetched for them from his library. This was her job and her duty: to educate the royal children, to give them security, routine and happiness.

She stoically pushed her own desires aside.

‘Look, Crawfie.’ Lilibet was pointing to one of the photos. ‘There’s Granny launching her boat!’

‘Ship,’ said Crawfie unconsciously.

The girls pored over the pictures. There were shots of the gentlemen’s Turkish Bath, a swimming pool and, best of all, the children’s play area with slides and a toy piano.

At last the school day came to its close, and the girls were collected by Alah and taken up to the nursery.

Crawfie, turning down her usual cup of tea with Alah and Bobo, slipped into her room and locked the door.

The envelope opened with ease, having been stuck down carelessly. The one sheet of paper within was plain, the note itself short:

My dear Marion,

Forgive me for delivering this by hand, but I did not know how else to get this message to you as quickly as possible.

You must think me an awful heel not turning up at the teashop. You see, I got into London on an earlier train as my interview with the bank had been brought forward and they wanted to see me that afternoon. They kept me waiting for two hours and by the time the meeting was finished, it was after six. I had hoped you might wait, but the café was shut by the time I got there.

Would you meet me so that I can explain? I shall be in Kensington Gardens by the Peter Pan statue on Saturday at 10.00 a.m.

Please come.

George

Marion reread the note with joy. Of course he wouldn’t ever let her down – not in the way she had let him down by being so absent. She should and would make herself more available to him, make him see how important he was to her. She resolved to make more time in her life for him. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she would.

That thought was immediately dashed by the realization that she would be in Windsor at the weekend and wouldn’t be able to meet him in Kensington Gardens. She could hardly do anything about that now.

She would have to write to him, at Mrs Bridie’s Highlands Guest House, and explain. Perhaps he could come to Windsor to meet her? It would have to be Sunday morning while the family were at church, but she could find an excuse not to join them. Telling the Duchess the truth would cause a fuss – the Duchess was not fond of her staff changing plans at the last minute. She wasn’t an unkind woman, but Marion suspected that the Duchess would not appreciate the need to see one’s man friend as important enough to miss church. The only option was to fib a little.