Things are moving at a great pace here. It is Heinrich’s opinion that the war is all but over – and that Germany will capitulate. Willy is still at military headquarters, but not in any kind of command. If the truth be told, Our Great Warlord has never been in command. He has only ever been a play-acting, sword-waving figurehead, and the word is that now reality has at last intruded he has had a complete nervous collapse. Revolution is on the verge of breaking out here, as it did in Russia, and Heinrich believes things can only end in Willy’s abdication. What will then happen to us (Heinrich and the children and me) when that occurs, I haven’t the faintest idea. And if Willy abdicates, where will he and Dona go? Ironically, the only country Willy has ever truly wanted to live in is England. If God is good, Heinrich and I will find ourselves at Hemmelmark, our estate in northern Germany. This is just to let you know how volatile things now are here, and for you not to worry too much if you don’t hear from me for a little while.

Much love to Georgie, Irène

With Irène’s letter in her hand, May looked unseeingly out of the window. Everything Irène had written indicated that George was right in his assumption that the war would soon be over. A world at peace again would be the greatest mercy imaginable, and the rejoicing and celebrating would no doubt go on for months, but although Georgie’s thankfulness would be bone-deep, it would not bring him peace of mind. Nothing was going to be able to do that ever again.

Exerting all her mental strength, she forced herself to carry on with her day. When George had walked in on her, she had been on the point of leaving the palace to visit critically injured soldiers in Great Ormond Street Hospital, where their daughter, Mary, was doing a nursing course. No matter what the private nightmares, life had to go on and, picking up her gloves, May walked briskly downstairs to the courtyard and her waiting car.

Over the last four years barely a day had gone by when she hadn’t spent the greater part of it in hospital or visiting convalescent centres or, with George, visiting a shipyard or a munitions factory, letting people know how at one with them they were. She had even accompanied George on one of his stressful visits to the Western Front, a visit of such unimaginable nightmare that only her lifelong habit of rigid self-discipline had helped her survive it.