Fifteen minutes later she was back downstairs looking neat and tidy in a mid-calf-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse with ruffles down the front.

‘You look lovely, darling,’ Sunday told her as Kathy reached for her coat and scowled at her.

‘She certainly does,’ David agreed, his eyes openly admiring.

Kathy squirmed. ‘Right, I should be back for tea,’ she informed Sunday as she ushered David towards the door.

‘All right, and will David be coming back with you?’ Sunday asked hopefully.

‘No, he won’t! I’m sure he has things to do,’ Kathy ground out and before another word could be said she almost pushed him through the door.

‘Hold on,’ David gasped as he ran to keep up with her. ‘You didn’t even give me a chance to thank the ladies for lunch. They’ll think I’m very rude and ungrateful.’

‘Huh! I doubt that very much,’ Kathy snorted in disgust. ‘Mum seems to think the sun shines out of your backside and I must apologise for her behaviour. Why, it was almost as if she was trying to marry us off.’ Her cheeks were crimson with embarrassment.

He shocked her then when he grinned and replied, ‘Would that really be such a bad thing?’

‘Oh, don’t be so stupid,’ she snapped. ‘We barely know each other.’

‘You’re quite right and we never will if we don’t get to spend some time together; so, what do you say? We could start going out a bit more.’

Kathy was squirming again now and wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

‘Well I, er … It’s very nice of you and I’m flattered but the truth is I rather like to spend what little spare time I have around the horses. Although we can still be friends, of course,’ she ended hastily. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

He shrugged and looked slightly disappointed, but then smiling again he took her arm and they clambered into his car. Kathy was truly delightful, and he wasn’t going to give up on her yet, not by a long shot!

Chapter Four

January 1936

When Sunday came down to the kitchen on a cold and frosty morning in January to find Cissie sniffing into a large, white handkerchief, she was instantly concerned.

‘Why, Cissie, love, whatever’s the matter?’ Hurrying over to her friend she put her arm about her shoulders.

‘It’s just been on the wireless. King George has passed away at Sandringham House in Norfolk,’ Cissie sniffed. ‘May God bless his soul.’

‘Well, he had been suffering from a chronic bronchial complaint,’ Sunday pointed out. ‘But I’m still very sad to hear it. I dare say Prince Edward will succeed him now.’