‘You were at work.’ He shrugged. ‘But the point is, I have been discussing your contract.’

‘Oh, George. Do we have to have contracts? It’s just a few little anecdotes.’

‘Be that as it may, those few anecdotes will be read by thousands of people who will buy thousands of copies of his magazine. The magazine will make a lot of money. And you deserve a share of that. In fact, Bruce gave me the impression that it will be a nice little nest egg, which, with our pensions, will take us nicely into old age.’

Marion looked at her husband. He was tricky, difficult, sometimes cruel, but on days like this he was the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had stood by her for over a decade, faithful and long-suffering.

He put his arm around her waist and hugged her to him. ‘What do you say? This is for your own good. I like having you at home with me. I miss you when you’re at work. We could spend days out like this whenever we wanted.’

‘Oh George, you really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?’

‘I don’t like seeing you tired and running around after them. We need more time for each other.’

‘Let me think about it.’ She kissed him, his little moustache tickling, which made her smile.

‘You haven’t kissed me like that for a long time,’ he said tenderly. ‘Maybe we will get the baby we want sooner than we thought.’

‘Oh, George.’ She lightly smacked his hand.

‘But first, we are going to walk up to Westminster Pier and catch a cruise along the Thames. I might even buy you an ice cream.’ He tucked his arm through hers. ‘Happy Birthday, Mrs Buthlay.’

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Buckingham Palace, September 1948

‘Her Majesty will see you now.’

The liveried footman opened the door to the Queen’s drawing room. The Queen was in a lilac tea dress, sitting at her desk and looking at a set of photographs. She looked up.

‘Crawfie, do come in. Mr Cecil Beaton has taken some new pictures of the King and me. I think they are very good but it is so hard to choose.’

‘You photograph very well, ma’am.’

‘You would say that because you are a dear.’ She shuffled the photographs neatly, then stood up and walked to the two sofas either side of the empty fireplace. ‘Do sit down.’ She sighed. ‘I have received and read your letter of resignation and I quite understand your reasons. Princess Margaret is utterly done with education and is … spreading her wings, shall we say?’

‘She is certainly a vibrant young woman. Naturally she wants to have some fun.’

‘She misses Lilibet terribly, but is very excited about becoming an aunt.’

‘She will be a wonderful aunt. And how is Lilibet?’

‘She is doing very well. Married life in Malta suits her, but of course she will come home soon for the birth.’