Crawfie found herself standing upright and slightly breathless, but in one piece. She looked up to recognize Sir Alan’s secretary. ‘Thank you, Miss P-T. I was hurrying to catch the post.’

‘Just P-T, darling. I’ll get one of the girls to post that for you. You look as if you need a cup of tea.’ She smiled. ‘Good job I was working a bit late tonight, Miss Crawford, or we wouldn’t have found you until the morning.’ P-T looked her up and down. ‘Now let’s get the kettle on and I might find a biscuit or two. That’s the best I can do.’

Another door opened behind them. ‘What the hell is all the noise?’

P-T replied, ‘May I borrow some of your ice, sir? This poor girl has a swollen wrist.’

Tommy raised his dark eyebrows in recognition. ‘Goodness. We meet again, Miss Crawford. Come on into my office and sit down.’

‘I was going to make a tea?’ P-T said.

‘Bugger tea. The woman needs a Scotch.’

Settled in Tommy’s office with a tea towel full of ice on her wrist, Crawfie watched as Tommy poured three glasses of whisky and handed them out.

‘Chin-chin.’ He raised his glass, drank and sat at his desk. ‘Still the dedicated governess, what?’

‘Yes, sir. I never thanked you for tea.’

‘It was Fortnum’s, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘How is it going?’

Crawfie looked at her wrist. ‘Feeling better, thank you, sir.’

‘I mean your work. Still keeping the Princesses’ noses to the grindstone?’

‘They are good students.’

‘They need to be now.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And how is the move going?’

‘Almost done.’

‘Good. Finding your feet in this monolith of a building?’

‘It is certainly a lot bigger than 145 Piccadilly.’

‘And colder.’ He nodded at her glass. ‘Drink up. Very good for shock.’

P-T asked, ‘Is anyone hungry? It seems ages since lunch. I can ring down for some sandwiches.’

‘Good idea,’ Tommy agreed. ‘But haven’t you two young women got young men waiting for you somewhere? It is Valentine’s night, you know.’

P-T grinned. ‘And how could I get a young man when I work all the hours God sends working for you?’ With a chuckle, she left to order the sandwiches.

‘Point taken.’ He looked over at Crawfie. ‘What about you? No Bonnie Prince Charlie keening for you?’

‘No, sir.’

He looked amazed. ‘What the hell are the young men of today up to? I despair.’ He picked up his glass. ‘A toast, to young hearts everywhere and to the abdicated King and his Mrs Simpson. To foolish love.’

The whisky scorched down Crawfie’s throat where a lump had suddenly appeared. She thought of George and wherever he was at that moment.

‘Do you know,’ Tommy began, ‘he seemed the most admirable man I had ever met when I started working for him. I had a deep admiration for him and was convinced that the future of England would be safe in his hands. But it transpired that he is just a person like any other. After nine years working for him when he was Prince of Wales, my admiration changed to despair. His lack of sense of duty and his self-absorption made him unfit for his destiny. I wasn’t wrong, was I? You must have met him. What did you make of him?’