‘You’re Marion Crawford,’ Evie said matter-of-factly. ‘You’re governess to the two Princesses, and George likes everyone to know it.’

Marion flinched. ‘He cannot possibly have told you that.’

Evie stood up, collecting her cigarettes and matches. ‘A few years ago I would have thought the same, but I know him – and I think you should get to know him better.’

Marion was furious. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

Evie laughed. ‘Listen.’ She put her head to one side, with her eyes closed. ‘I swear I can hear wedding bells.’

The pub was crowded when they went back in. The band were playing loudly, and several people had stood up to dance. Tables and chairs were being pushed to the edges of the bar, and before Marion had a minute to find George, a man took her arm and whirled her into a Gay Gordons. He shouted into her ear, ‘This is my song! My name is Gordy. Do ye get it? It’s the Gay Gordons and my name is Gordy! What’s your name?’

‘Marion,’ she muttered, keeping her nose clear of his beery fumes.

‘Right, Marion. Let’s show them what we are made of.’

Marion tried to pull away, but Gordy refused to let her go. They reeled and jigged for what seemed like an eternity, until he needed a fresh pint, and left her. Marion made her escape. She had been trying to catch George’s eye each time she was whirled past the bar, but he was still in deep conversation with Chris and Evie. Now she pushed her way through a bundle of drunken, sweating bodies and finally reached George.

‘There you are.’ George put his arm around her waist – something he’d never done before. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Dancing. With someone called Gordy.’

‘That big lummox? Did he try anything on?’

‘I was hoping you might come to rescue me.’

‘I don’t have to take him outside, do I? I would, you know.’

Marion realized George was a little drunk. ‘I would like to go home,’ she said, as firmly as she could.

‘What? It’s not midnight yet.’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Of course it matters.’ He leant into her and whispered loudly in her ear, ‘I have something to talk to you about at midnight.’

Marion’s heart jumped. What did that mean? Was he going to propose? No, the last time she thought that she’d felt a fool. And even if he was going to propose, she didn’t want it to be in front of a bunch of drunken strangers. There was what Evie had said, too, which she couldn’t get out of her head. She wanted to ask George exactly what he’d been telling people about her.

‘We could be home by midnight.’ She wriggled away from him. ‘We can talk at home. It’ll be quieter.’

Extricating him from the crowd took a little while. He had to say goodbye and Happy New Year to everyone, some of them twice. Evie waved to her from across the room, raising her glass to Marion. Marion pretended not to see the wave and eventually got George outside.