Once the King and Queen were safely in the house, I made myself scarce. I didn’t want to get in the way of a family get-together, so I went to my favourite bench under the wisteria walk in the back garden. Can you imagine how terrified I was when I saw their Majesties stepping out of the drawing room, onto the lawn and heading towards me? I looked for somewhere to hide but, alas, there was nowhere I could go. I just stood there, head down, like a lamppost.

I thought that maybe, if I stayed still, they would pass me and carry on to inspect the gardens.

But, no, they came straight up to me. I could hardly breathe and certainly couldn’t speak, but I managed a curtsey and fully expected them to move on.

They didn’t.

Queen Mary is very tall (taller than me!) and imposing, with the most immaculate posture. She had her hair piled high, with a large hat on top, giving her an extra six inches at least. She was wearing her choker of pearls. Six rows! The sunlight on them made them gleam like little rainbows.

And her dress! So elegant, if a little old-fashioned. Blue silk with cream lace, a small bustle and a corseted waist. No wonder she has good posture. I wouldn’t be able to breathe in anything so tight!

Her parasol matched her outfit and she used it as a walking stick. As she looked, I could see she was forming an opinion of me. Goodness knows what! She didn’t speak, but King George, looking rather fearsome with his full set of whiskers, prodded the ground with his stick and grunted a sort of acknowledgement. Then in his booming voice (which I suppose he must have found useful at sea) said, ‘For goodness’ sake, teach those girls to write a decent hand, that’s all I ask! Not one of my children can write properly. They all do it in the same illegible way.’ I thought he had finished, but he looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘I like a hand with character in it.’

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ I managed and curtsied again.

The Queen gave me a final once-over, nodded and then both of them walked away, leaving me in a puddle of emotions.

Imagine! Me meeting King George V and Queen Mary! I only wish you could have been there.

Later that evening the Duchess told me that Their Majesties had wanted to meet me, because they thought I might be too young for the job. But they seem to think I am suitable after all. I must confess I am pleased to have their good opinion.

There was another day I wanted to tell you about. The other morning, we got a call in the schoolroom for Lilibet to find her field glasses and look out of the window towards Buckingham Palace.

Suddenly she was all action. ‘Crawfie, we can wave to the King!’

It seems that when the King is able, he stands at the window of his office at BP (as they call Buckingham Palace here!) and trains his own field glasses onto our schoolroom window, then waves to the girls. Isn’t that wonderful! He even waved at me when I had a go. God bless him. What a wonderful grandfather he is.