‘Is it?’ Crawfie was suffering from an attack of proprietorship. The Prince of Wales could not, surely, be involved with this brittle-looking woman? She was too thin, overly made-up and laughing girlishly as the Prince held her waist.

The moment Mrs Simpson had arrived at Royal Lodge, on the arm of the Prince of Wales, backstairs gossip had been rife, but Marion had not met her yet. Word had it she was an American who was on her second husband and who had the Prince wrapped around her finger.

‘She’s not as pretty as Mummy,’ Margaret said. ‘And she doesn’t like me and Lilibet very much.’

‘Of course she does,’ Crawfie said.

‘No, she doesn’t. I can tell. I don’t think she likes children. Mummy loves children.’

‘Well, let’s go and show Mummy how well you can skate.’

That evening, up in the nursery, Bobo was setting the table for the Princesses’ dinner and Alah was warming two sets of pyjamas on the fireguard.

Crawfie was sitting in an armchair. ‘I haven’t skated for a long time. I’ll be bruised and sore in the morning.’ She stretched her long legs in front of her. ‘I don’t how the Duchess will have the energy to entertain the Prince of Wales and Mrs Simpson.’

‘She’s always had stamina. Even as a baby.’ Alah sighed. ‘Just like those girls of hers.’

As if on cue, they heard two sets of little feet pounding up the stairs.

Then the Prince of Wales’s voice, deep and monsterish. ‘I’m coming to get you!’

‘Nooo. Uncle David! Arrgghh.’

‘I’m going to eat you all up.’

‘Stop it. Papa! Uncle David’s going to eat us.’

The nursery door flew open and Margaret and Lilibet charged into the room, with the chasing Prince and their father behind them.

‘Crawfie, save us!’ Dramatically, they both threw themselves at her as she hastily stood up and curtsied.

The Prince was holding a book and panting hard. ‘You too little monkeys are too quick for me.’ Then, throwing the book down, he suddenly pounced on them, almost knocking Crawfie over.

Falling to the floor, he rolled onto his back, looked up at Alah, Bobo and Crawfie and said, ‘I am most awfully sorry. It’s all my nieces’ fault. Dreadful little girls.’

The Princesses fell on top of him and another wrestling match began.

Alah stopped it all.

‘Ladies! Would you kindly get up and wish His Royal Highness and your father goodnight?’

They did so immediately, though Margaret could not suppress a giggle.

The Duke helped the Prince up. ‘My apologies for the disturbance,’ he said. ‘My brother is a rogue.’

The Prince grinned at Crawfie, Bobo and Alah.

‘Goodnight, ladies.’ He turned to follow his brother out but stopped. ‘And er …’

Crawfie’s heart skipped a beat. Had he recognized her as the woman who had nearly fainted in front of him all that time ago?

‘I promised my nieces a story, but perhaps you would do the honour on my behalf?’ He pointed at the book he had thrown on to the carpet.