‘Do I look all right?’

Lilibet was standing in her dress, before the Queen, Mr Norman Hartnell, Bobo and Crawfie.

All three women had tears in their eyes. ‘Darling, you look wonderful,’ her mother told her with a handkerchief to her eyes.

‘It has taken an hour to get me into it all,’ said Lilibet

Mr Hartnell stood back surveying his creation. ‘One can’t hurry perfection, ma’am.’

Bobo clasped her hands to her breast in rapture. ‘You look beautiful.’

Crawfie beamed. Lilibet really did look stunning. She could not quite believe the little girl she had met so many years before had become this beautiful, grown-up woman.

The Queen moved forward to kiss the bride on both cheeks. ‘You look so happy and Papa and I are so proud of you.’ She held her daughter at arm’s length for a moment, checking every feature. ‘Don’t forget to put your pearls on.’

Lilibet gasped. ‘Oh gosh. Would someone fetch them for me please?’

‘I’ll go. Where are they?’ asked Crawfie.

‘They were at the jewellers. The clasp needed fixing. Who went to collect them?’ asked Lilibet, always calm, looking at herself in the long mirror and checking each angle. This wedding would be the first royal wedding to be broadcast on television, so she had to be just right.

‘I will ask Ainslie,’ said Crawfie, dashing out of the room.

Mr Hartnell looked about him. ‘Where are your flowers? It would be good for you to rehearse carrying them. They will be heavy and with the long train and your veil, you must feel utterly comfortable and balanced.’

A cursory rummage followed by a more thorough search through the entire room revealed that the flowers were not to be seen.

Bobo leapt at the chance to help. ‘I’ll go and find them. Ainslie will know.’

Buckingham Palace, 20^th November 1947, 10.45 a.m.

Crawfie and Bobo bumped into each other in the corridor outside Lilibet’s dressing room.

‘I had to run to St James’s Palace,’ panted Crawfie. ‘But I have them!’ she waved a leather jewel box. ‘The pavements were crowded with well-wishers. It took me an age to get through them.’

Bobo was holding a huge white box. ‘And I have the flowers. It’s taken me half an hour to find them. They’d been put in a cold cupboard but nobody could think which cold cupboard.’

Crawfie took a deep breath and blew it out to calm her breathing. ‘We have saved the day, Bobo.’

‘Excuse me.’ A young man was running towards them. ‘Can you tell me where the bride’s changing room is, please?’

‘Who needs to know?’ Crawfie asked with suspicion.

‘I’m from Garrard, the royal jeweller. I have come to mend the bride’s tiara. It has snapped.’

‘Follow us!’

At 11.15, spot on time, the King and Lilibet set off in the Irish state coach for Westminster Abbey. Palace staff lined up to wave them off and watch as the carriage went through the gates, disappearing into the swell and noise of the cheering crowds.