Dear all,

George and I are finally married. It was a wonderful day. Even the Dunfermline sun shone on us. The minister’s ceremony was beautiful and, you may think this nonsense, but I felt my heart fly to the roof of the Abbey. Silly, really. George was very handsome in his full highland dress and my parents looked so happy. I think they thought I would never marry, but they adore George as much as I do. George’s oldest friend, Christopher, was best man and he made a most amusing speech.

We are now on our honeymoon! George booked a week in a little guest house near Loch Lomond. A whole week of getting used to being Mr and Mrs Buthlay.

By the time you read this, I hope George and I shall be back in London. We have the long weekend, a glorious few days to settle ourselves into Nottingham Cottage before my lessons with Margaret resume. I am so looking forward to George and I building our home together. Mother has given me some beautiful linen that she got when she first married, and George has bought me a sewing machine to make curtains! I have never made curtains before, but I am determined to try my best!

I do hope you will all come and visit us.

See you very soon,

Mrs George Buthlay AKA Crawfie x

Tommy folded the letter and pushed it back into its envelope. Mrs George Buthlay, eh? Good luck to her. Typical woman – impulsive, and strong-willed. Wouldn’t listen, and now she’s got herself married to a spiv. She’d regret it, that was for sure. If she were Tommy’s daughter, he would have thrown Buthlay out by his lying ears.

Still, she had her job to rely on. The royal family might be built on self-preservation and duty, but they knew a good servant when they had one. Even now she was married she was to continue to teach Margaret and, if she played her cards right, she could continue her role to the next generation of royal children, exactly as Alah had.

Alah would have had something to say about all this. Funny how one could only see how important a person was when they died. Alah was the smooth hand on the tiller throughout the Queen’s childhood and then the Queen’s children’s childhood. That was the proper way of things. Miss Crawford might still have a chance to emulate her.

Comforted by the thought, Tommy left his desk and went for an early lunch at his club. A pleasant hour of sensible, like-minded male company was exactly what he needed.

Nottingham Cottage, 19^th September 1947

Marion carried her case into her new sitting room. ‘Oh, George! Do come and look. The sun coming in through the window is so beautiful.’

George entered, carrying a large box which he put down on a carpet that had seen better days. ‘This room is a bit on the small side,’ he said slowly.