Over the next few days the King’s breathing difficulties became worse, not better, and other members of the family began congregating at the palace. Looloo and Fife travelled down from Scotland with both of their daughters. Irène and Heinrich arrived from Germany with one of their two sons. Vicky and Louis arrived from the Isle of Wight. Lenchen and Christian visited daily from Kew. Louise returned from a visit to Nice. Russian Aunt Marie came all the way from Coburg. Marie-Louise came and, signalling how serious Bertie’s condition was, so did the Archbishop of Canterbury, Book of Common Prayer in hand.

On 6 May, sitting by his father’s bedside, desperately wanting him to take a turn for the better, George said, ‘I have some news that will please you, Papa. Your horse, Witch of the Air, has won at Kempton Park.’

Bertie’s bulky figure was propped up on a mountain of pillows and he attempted a cackle of pleased laughter, and then began gasping for breath. Doctor Laking, who had been his doctor for more than a decade, held an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

When he removed it and Bertie was again wheezily breathing unaided, Alix took Laking to one side and said in a low voice, ‘Please tell me when the end is near, for there is someone not here whom I know my husband would like to see before he dies.’

‘Then in my estimation, Ma’am,’ Laking said gently, ‘the person in question should be contacted immediately.’

Ashen-faced, Alix turned to Louis of Battenberg. ‘Would you please send for Mrs Keppel, Louis.’

And then in explanation, to a stunned-looking George, ‘It is the last thing I can do that will make your dear papa happy. He will want to say goodbye to her.’

On Alice Keppel’s arrival at the palace, everyone other than Alix left the bedroom, heading for the nearest drawing room or smoking room.

Aware of how close to a breakdown George was, May said, ‘I think the library is the best place for us, George.’

Once in its blessed privacy, he held onto her like a drowning man holding onto a rock. When he could finally trust himself to speak, he said, ‘I’ve lived every day since dear Eddy’s death dreading the moment when I would not only lose the best father there ever was, but would become King. Now that hideous moment can only be days – possibly hours – away.’ He held her even tighter. ‘But when it happens, the burden won’t be mine alone, will it, darling May? You will be here to be my strength and comfort?’