I have to agree with George about our little house. The plumbing is awfully old and the whole thing needs rewiring and decorating – none of which I have time for, as I am at the Palace during the week taking care of Princess Margaret, who misses her sister very much. She and I will be on our own a lot because the King and Queen are travelling so much these days.

At least we still have the old guard here at the Palace. Dear Bobo, Ainslie and even Jackson the chauffeur. You remember him? He is married now with children of his own. How time flies. Bobo has become the Princesses’ personal dresser and is delighted, of course.

George is getting used to living in London and is enjoying meeting up with his old chums in old haunts. I know he misses me during the week, and we have talked at length about how long I shall continue working, but for now I am to remain. We are able to save money – and besides, the family still need me.

I hoped we could come up to Dunfermline for Christmas but you can see how we are fixed. As soon as the cottage is ready, I want you both to come down and stay. I can take you to Oxford Street for shopping and the theatre too. That will be my Christmas present to you.

All my love,

Marion

Crawfie folded her letter, and put it into an envelope ready for the post.

She was desperate to have some time to herself and eager to be a proper housewife to George.

Margaret was longing to visit the cottage She had been asking for days. ‘When can I come and see your lovely new home?’ she would say. ‘I could help you choose colours and curtains. Please?’

Today, Crawfie finally gave in. ‘We could go this afternoon, I suppose. I would like to see how the workmen are doing. George is keeping an eye on things and he says they are coming on wonderfully well.’

A few hours later, Jackson drove them the short distance from Buckingham Palace to Kensington Palace, then asked if he could come and see the little house too.

‘The more the merrier,’ laughed Margaret.

Glowing with expectation and pride, Crawfie led them to her home. ‘Look at our sign.’ She waved at the small plaque bearing the words NOTTINGHAM COTTAGE on the gate.

‘Adorable,’ said Margaret, as she went through the gate and straight to the open front door. ‘Hellooo,’ she called.

The sound of banging coming from the upstairs stopped, and footsteps overhead made their way to the top of the stairs.

‘Who’s there?’ A man appeared, wearing a flat cap and workman’s overalls. He stared down at them. ‘Can I help you, miss?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Princess Margaret grinned. ‘I should like to come in and see what you are up to.’

Crawfie tried to intervene, but Margaret mischievously stopped her, whispering, ‘Let’s have some fun.’