‘Who was that?’

‘I told you, his name was Gordy or something – it doesn’t matter. I tried to catch your eye but you didn’t even notice. You didn’t look for me once.’ She was shaking, amazed that she was saying all this out loud. ‘George, you were drunk when you drove me home and you know very well that is why you crashed the car.’

‘Marion.’ He took her hand. ‘I am not a liar, but I just couldn’t face telling your wonderful parents that I had crashed the car with you in it, that I had had too much to drink, that I had been that reckless. Can you ever forgive me?’

‘I did not like the way you were last night. You – well, you weren’t yourself. And I didn’t like that.’

George looked at her with pleading eyes. ‘I will make it up to you. We need to talk about a lot of things. Don’t break my heart, Marion. Please. Will you forgive me?’

He looked so forlorn that she couldn’t help but trust him. ‘All right,’ she said at last, and managed a weak smile.

And so Marion persuaded herself that George had been a good friend to Chris last night. It was all Chris’s fault that George had had too much to drink. He wouldn’t have crashed the car, or acted as he had done, if it hadn’t been for that. He had been too much in shock to make sure she was all right after the accident. The lie he had told her parents was his way of protecting her. It was just one big mistake and he felt very guilty. She knew that.

She trusted him. She was certain it would never happen again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Dunfermline, January 1937

In the end she told a white lie herself – to her parents, and to George.

‘I have to get back to London,’ she said, late on New Year’s Day.

Maggie turned around in surprise. ‘I thought you had another couple of weeks with us?’

‘I have been thinking about all the things I have to pack up from 145 Piccadilly to take to Buckingham Palace. The schoolroom to start with, then my own things – and I will have to help Alah and Bobo with the nursery. It’s best I make a start while the family are still at Sandringham.’

She left Scotland without seeing George, but she did write to him, apologizing for her swift departure, telling him she had to go back to work.

His reply was one of surprise and regret, and he expressed the hope that he could come to London for the coronation in May. He finished the letter with words that stuck in her mind:

Marion, I do think of you every day. Please think of me occasionally. I couldn’t bear for you to forget me. I will never forget you.

Until we meet again,

George

Marion did think of him, almost constantly – on the train down to London, as she started packing up Piccadilly, as the real work of the move to Buckingham Palace began. She did her best to throw herself into her duties, focusing on the enormous upheaval coming to the Princesses’ lives, but George still lingered at the back of her mind.