The PM’s response was more measured. ‘Why do you think that is, Winston?’

Churchill’s answer was swift and brief. ‘Because of the way we treated one of their own. Mrs Simpson.’

The foreign secretary raised his hands in disbelief. ‘Poppycock.’

‘Believe what you wish, sir.’ Churchill lifted his elbows from the PM’s desk and sat back in his chair. ‘How would you like your wife to be humiliated by the whole world, just because she had fallen in love with you?’

Tommy wrote this insult down most carefully, hiding a smile.

The PM sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘How would you suggest we sweeten our friendship with America?’

Winston chuckled. ‘Let’s woo them with the one thing they lack, and long for. No member of our monarchy has set foot in the United States for one hundred and fifty years! Not since we were defeated in the American War of Independence. I think it’s time we did. We send in our biggest guns: King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.’

Every man in the room fell silent.

Buckingham Palace, January 1939

His Majesty was dumbfounded. ‘We will not do it!’

Winston Churchill nodded. ‘I do understand your feeling, sir. However, I believe the time is right for the Empire to know what we stand for. The only person to deliver that message is you, sir, and the first to hear it must be the United States.’

A few hours had passed, and Churchill and Tommy were standing in the King’s Office at Buckingham Palace.

‘America is no longer part of our Empire,’ said the King.

‘Which is why it is paramount that the USA is our starting point – an acknowledgement of their independence from us, and a show of no hard feelings.’

The King stubbed out a cigarette, immediately lit another, got up and began to pace the room. ‘Have the Americans requested a visit?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Then we are assuredly not going. It would weaken us if we were seen to be pleading for friendship.’

Churchill’s eyes gleamed for a moment. Tommy watched him as his great brain worked quickly. ‘In that case,’ said Churchill, ‘let us not speak of it again.’

‘Good.’

In the silence that followed, the King turned to Tommy. ‘What do you think?’

Tommy stooped to place a folder of letters onto the King’s desk. ‘These are for signature, sir.’

‘Damn the letters, Tommy,’ the King stuttered. ‘Do you think the Queen and I should parade ourselves, cap in hand, to the Americans?’

‘Sir, it is not for me to say, but one would hope that any conflict could be avoided with delicate and experienced diplomacy.’

Mr Churchill lit one of his famous cigars, the pungent smoke settling around him. ‘Quite right. Jaw-jaw before war-war. But first of all, Mr Hitler must want to jaw with us.’ He turned his gimlet eyes back to the King. ‘I discovered something quite extraordinary the other day, sir.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Your grandfather was the last member of the royal family to visit Canada. That must be well over forty years ago now.’