Philip is very happy and when he is happy, so am I.

I have some news for you.

Crawfie stopped reading. Her eyes had run ahead of her lips to news that was utterly confidential.

George urged her on. ‘What is the news?’

Crawfie skipped over the next two lines and continued:

We are going on a picnic at the weekend, on a pleasure boat. Philip wants to show off his water-skiing abilities. But obviously I will not be joining him.

‘Why not?’ George said, with a laugh. ‘Doesn’t want to get her bloody hair wet?’

‘George! Language.’

‘Oh dear. Sorry, I forget. You not only dress like an off-duty queen – you sound like one too. Queen Marion.’

Crawfie quickly folded the letter and popped it in her bag, trying to ignore the pang of hurt his comment gave her. ‘I had better get off. See you later.’

‘You haven’t touched your porridge.’

‘It’s lovely, darling, but I must go.’ She kissed his head and closed the door.

Outside, she took a big breath of fresh air. It was a fine May morning and the walk to Buckingham Palace would be a pleasurable one, especially now that she had such a secret to think about.

Lilibet was expecting a baby. Due in November. She would come home to have the baby and then share her time between here and Valetta.

Crawfie hugged the news to herself. If only Alah could know.

Maybe Crawfie could be governess to the new arrival? But it would be years away before the child would be ready for the schoolroom, and George was already pestering her to stop working.

After his illness at Christmas, he had left the bank. He was still not back to his usual self. They had been very generous with a lump sum redundancy payment and a decent enough pension.

Her own work at the Palace was slowing down. She no longer needed to stay overnight, which George was very happy about. He liked knowing she was at home, even if he was out.

Crawfie knew that the end of her career was approaching. Princess Margaret had totally outgrown the need for the schoolroom or a chaperone. She now ran with a fast set of wealthy and fashionable friends. Crawfie was not sure she approved; they liked to party until the early hours and stay in bed until noon; they were always playing silly pranks, like daring to knock off a policeman’s helmet.

Crawfie was beginning to feel unwanted on voyage. Her time was coming to an end.

But she had her little cottage, a husband, her health. There was no sign of the longed-for baby yet but she still had time. She tried not to feel a little sad at the thought of Lilibet’s coming child.

The plane trees of Hyde Park were in fresh leaf, their smooth bark, bright in the sun. She slowed her pace. She had no need to hurry. On the Serpentine, toddlers with their nannies threw bread to the ducks, while dogs tumbled and chased each other happily.