Within hours, news came back from The Hague that Willy would be welcome in Holland as a guest of a Count Bentinck at the count’s castle at Amerongen. He was to leave for Holland immediately. Dona, and other members of his family who wished, would follow afterwards.

On the imperial train and in a private carriage in which, ironically, hung a photograph of his grandmother taken at Osborne House, Willy left Germany behind for good. He was no longer the Kaiser. He was no longer Germany’s All-Highest. And all he felt was the most incredible, overwhelming relief. Never again would he have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, in order to fulfil his position as an emperor. Never again would he have to play-act. From now on he could simply be himself. An entire new world of freedom was opening up before him. And he knew how he was going to celebrate it.

Looking out at the flat fields of Holland, he rang the bell that summoned his aide-de-camp. ‘I would like,’ he said to him in great good humour, ‘a cup of very good, extra-strong English tea.’

In England things were moving with such speed it was hard for May to keep up. From Germany had come news of Willy’s abdication and exile in Holland.

‘And at any moment we will be receiving news that the armistice has been signed,’ George said to her. ‘When news of it is given, the British people are going to descend on the palace in cheering hordes. We are going to have to make appearance after appearance on the balcony.’

‘Yes, George.’ She knew what it was that he was really telling her. He was telling her it was imperative there were no dark thoughts on their minds when, from Buckingham Palace’s balcony, they faced the jubilant crowds. He was telling her that, for a short while at least, they must somehow shut out the memories of July.

When he had hurried away to meet Prime Minister David Lloyd George, she walked into her private sitting room. It wasn’t much different from how Queen Victoria’s sitting room had been. If it was one thing her Aunt Queen’s descendants had in common, it was the need to surround themselves with family photographs and memorabilia.

Central on her desk was a photograph of Nicky and Alicky and all five of their children. It was a carefree, happy photograph that had been taken at Cowes when they had last visited England.

Slowly she took off her hat and removed her gloves, thinking back to July. Remembering.