The Prince of Wales, paler than I have ever seen him, even after a day of drinking, stood forlorn by her side. I suppose I shall be thrown back into service with him. Junior members of the household cannot walk out on a new king simply because they disapproved of him as Prince of Wales.

The old King is now to be watched for a vigil of thirty-six hours by the men of the Sandringham estate: gamekeepers, gardeners, faithful retainers, all guarding their beloved squire.

Tomorrow we will accompany him to London by train, and all the inevitability of a state funeral will follow.

When we got back to the house tonight, I am not ashamed to say that the Duke of York and I shared a couple of glasses of whisky. What a decent man he is.

Yours,

Tommy

145 Piccadilly, 22^nd January 1936

Marion watched as Alah fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped her eyes then the corners of her lips. Then she held the square of cotton over her mouth, stifling her grief.

A flood of compassion for the older woman flowed through Marion. ‘Do we know any of the plans for the … arrangements … for the King yet?’

‘Not yet, but Lilibet will go to the lying in state at Westminster Hall. It is her duty.’

Marion felt her heart sink. ‘That poor little girl. Perhaps I could chaperone her?’

Alah was quick to reply, ‘The Duchess has already asked me to accompany the Princess Elizabeth.’

‘But I should so like to pay my respects to the King. He was a great support to me.’

Alah set her lips firm. ‘I am the one who has known Lilibet from birth, therefore I am the person the Duchess wants.’

Marion was tired after her long journey, exhausted by her mother’s interferences, anxious that she had been unable to get hold of George to tell him where she was – and now Alah was pulling rank on her, as she had been doing recently. Marion had had enough. Anger murdered her compassion.

‘Alah, you and I are not in competition with each other. For goodness’ sake, do we always have to bicker?’

‘Bicker? I accommodated you when you first arrived, showed you the ropes when you knew nothing – but you forget all that now. You have got a bit big for your boots, young woman. Yes, I see you watching the Duchess, copying her manner and style as best you can, thinking you’re best friends with the family. Well, you’re not. You and I are paid servants. We are needed and useful, but we are not their friends. You would do well to remember that.’

Marion felt the sting of Alah’s words.

‘I am sorry you feel that way.’ She stood up, towering over her colleague and her pettiness. ‘I shall ask the Duchess myself. I am sure she would be grateful to have the both of us accompany Lilibet.’

Chapter Seventeen

Buckingham Palace, 23^rd January 1936