Crawfie breathed with relief, but was somewhat miffed. So he hadn’t recognized her after all.

‘Of course, Your Royal Highness,’ Alah said. ‘And you are always welcome in the nursery.’

‘I shall take my leave of you.’ He went to the door but again turned back. ‘My friend from America has received a shipment of gramophone records and after dinner we intend to play them and enjoy a little dance. I apologize for any extraneous noise in advance. Good night, Lilibet. Goodnight, Margaret. Goodnight, ladies.’

‘Goodnight, sir.’

The Princesses were already collecting up the abandoned book. ‘Come on, Crawfie.’ They pushed it into her hands and pulled her towards their bedroom.

‘And what is this book all about?’

‘Murder and mystery.’ Lilibet’s eyes lit up. ‘Uncle David said we would love it.’

Crawfie read the cover. ‘The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie?’ She doubted that the girls, aged nine and five, would stay awake long enough to be enthralled by it, but she would enjoy it enormously.

The Prince of Wales hadn’t been wrong. Cold though the night was, the party downstairs had spilled out on to the terrace, and through the open doors of the drawing room the sound of Cole Porter’s ‘You’re the Top’ was travelling up on the night air and in through the curtains of the nursery sitting room.

‘Here, this will help us sleep.’ Crawfie was carrying a tray of hot milk. ‘I don’t know how the girls can sleep through this.’

Alah looked at the clock on the nursery mantelpiece. ‘It’s past midnight.’

‘Lovely music though,’ said Bobo.

Hush suddenly fell.

‘Oh. It’s stopped.’

‘Thank goodness.’ Alah pulled her shawl around her.

There came an explosion of helpless laughter and whoops, then the sound of something being smashed.

‘What was that?’ asked Bobo, wide-eyed.

‘I shall go and see.’ Alah tightened the belt of her long dressing gown and tucked her shawl securely around her chest. ‘I hope to God no one is injured.’

Crawfie and Bobo followed her.

Out on the landing, the three of them leant over the bannisters and could see Ainslie, three floors down, with a dustpan and brush in his hands.

‘What’s going on?’ Alah called quietly. ‘Is anyone injured?’

His weary eyes looked up at her. ‘The only injury is to the Japanese table lamp. Beyond saving, I’m afraid.’

‘What are they playing at?’

‘The Prince discovered that a gramophone record, when thrown like a flying saucer, is enormous fun until things get broken.’

A volley of raucous laughter came from the drawing room and the Prince of Wales shouted, ‘Ainslie? We need more cocktails.’

Ainslie raised his eyes to the women above and sighed. ‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir.’

145 Piccadilly, December 1935

Dear Mother,

I can never tire of Christmas in London. So different to Dunfermline. You should see the Christmas tree we have here – at least two feet bigger than last year’s and I thought that was enormous! The Duke and Duchess both adore the season and together with the Princesses they have decorated it beautifully. They have baubles dating back to Queen Victoria that have been passed down through the family. It is standing in the hall as usual and I daren’t breathe when I go past it for fear of knocking one on to the floor.