‘I can’t wait to see it,’ she told Crawfie one evening over cocoa. ‘I know it has lots of embroidery and pearls and a beautiful veil. One of the seamstresses told me that much.’

‘Well, don’t you pass that on to anyone else. The walls have ears, you know,’ Crawfie told her, while not admitting that Lilibet had shown her some sketches of the dress.

‘I’m not silly.’ Bobo huffed. ‘I have been here longer than you have. I know the rules. And, by the way, as soon as she is married, I am to be her personal dresser.’

Crawfie was pleased. ‘Is that so? Congratulations. Alah would be so proud of you.’

‘Do you think she would?’

Crawfie smiled. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Do you know, I was as nervous as a kitten when I started. I had no idea what I was to do or how I was to do it. Alah had to teach me everything and I was so homesick.’ She bit her lip. ‘The first year was very hard for me.’

Crawfie nodded in agreement. ‘To tell the truth, Alah taught me, too. I had no idea how a governess was to operate in a family like this one. I was terrified of the Duke and Duchess, the Princesses, even Ainslie! But Alah was the scariest.’

Bobo began to giggle. ‘You were frightened of her? But she was frightened of you! She would often tell me how assured and confident you seemed, how you had the Princesses and their timetable totally organized. She had ruled supreme until you arrived. You put her on the back foot.’

‘Never! Did I?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Goodness.’ The two women sat with their memories in the quiet.

‘She would have loved all this, wouldn’t she?’ Bobo said quietly. ‘Seeing her Lilibet so happy and preparing to marry.’

‘She really would.’ Crawfie picked up her cocoa mug and raised it. ‘To Alah.’

Bobo joined her. ‘To Alah.’

Buckingham Palace, 18^th November 1947

Crawfie and Bobo were at the nursery window, looking out at the gravel courtyard below as Lilibet and Philip said their last goodbyes before they met tomorrow at Westminster Abbey.

‘Look at her,’ Bobo breathed. ‘See how she’s touching his collar and straightening his tie?’

‘It’s a true romance,’ Crawfie said. ‘I know a little of how she feels. The night before I married George I was bursting with excitement and nerves. My mother and I sat together in the kitchen with a sherry each.’

Bobo smiled. ‘Her little girl becoming a married woman.’

Crawfie looked into her drink, recalling the horror of her mother’s birds and bees speech. She never wanted to think about it again.

‘Something like that.’

‘And look!’ Bobo’s breath was misting the pane. ‘They’re kissing.’

They watched as Philip reluctantly parted from his Princess and jumped into his little car. He made a turn towards the Palace gates, spraying gravel as he did so. Lilibet waved at him madly until, with a last toot, he disappeared.

Bobo and Crawfie were busily getting their wedding outfits steamed and sorted for the next day when there was a knock at the door and Lilibet popped her head round. ‘Hello.’