Joan laughed. ‘Forgive my husband, he is a garden snob.’

‘Yesterday we were all hands to the pump.’ Crawfie smiled. ‘The King and Queen, the Princesses, even I, were commissioned to help dig, weed and plant. I am glad that you have noticed.’

‘I suppose it must have helped them let off a little stream after such a momentous week?’ Joan asked.

‘Indeed.’

‘Well, I suppose we ought to mingle.’ Tommy took his wife’s elbow. ‘I can see a couple of dullards who really need to be kept on side. Come along, Joan.’

Crawfie didn’t mind being left on her own. She found a seat in a shaded spot and sat with a plate of tiny sandwiches and a fruit juice, watching as the Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, the King’s younger brothers and the Princess Royal greeted people and conversed with ease. All accompanied by their spouses. Crawfie’s mind wandered to the day when she would be accompanied by George. Mr and Mrs Buthlay. How proud she would be of him.

‘He is manager of the Aberdeen Branch of Drummonds bank,’ she would tell them. ‘Yes, I am very proud of him. What do I do? I work with the royal family as governess to Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret Rose. Very rewarding indeed, yes. One day George and I hope to have a family of our own, of course.’

The vision was as clear as crystal. She hoped they would be married as soon as possible. The wedding would be wonderful. Perhaps the Princesses could be bridesmaids … She would have to tell the Queen about her engagement very soon.

But what if …? A sensation of icy cold fingers ran down her spine. What if the Queen would not allow her to marry? Or what if she dismissed her? The law prevented women from remaining in the teaching profession when they married. When she and George were married, he would not be expected to leave his job in Scotland to live with her in London. A man could work, be married and have children, and expect a wife’s plans to fall in line with his. She clenched her hands in frustration. If only she was a man – men’s lives were so simple.

She checked her thoughts. Was she expressing the thoughts of a radical woman, the type Alah disapproved of? Oh Lord, she needed to stop that immediately. It would all work out. Of course it would. After all, her position was surely unique. The family needed her, trusted her – they relied on her entirely. She had been with them for five years now, and she dearly hoped they would see her as irreplaceable. True, she might no longer be able to live at the Palace if she were to live with George, but surely there would be a way …

‘Hello, Crawfie.’ Margaret was at her side. ‘I am bored.’

‘And how am I to help you?’

‘Can we play Happy Families? I’ve got the cards in my pocket.’