‘Huh! He shouldn’t be allowed to,’ Cissie said indignantly as she mopped at her tears. She was a great royalist and loved everything about the royal family, apart from Prince Edward, it appeared. ‘He’s messin’ around wi’ that American, Wallis Simpson, an’ her a married woman, an’ all. It ain’t right!’

Sunday grinned ruefully. ‘Perhaps he’ll end their affair now that he knows he’s going to be king?’ she suggested tactfully.

Cissie shrugged as she mopped at her teary cheeks. ‘We’ll see, won’t we? But now I’d better get the breakfast on the go. Kathy an’ Livvy will be down any minute an’ I don’t want ’em to be late for work.’

Ben and George had already been in and made themselves a pot of tea before heading off to the stables but Cissie knew that they too would be in shortly wanting to be fed, so she hurried over to the stove and soon the smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen.

It was hard to believe that they were already well into January, Cissie thought as she expertly flipped the bacon. Christmas and the New Year seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t been the happiest of holidays. Livvy had come down with a severe cold the week before Christmas and had spent most of the time in bed coughing and spluttering, bless her. Ben had spent the majority of his time in the stables or in his room and Kathy had had to work, so it had been just herself, Sunday and George for most of the time and Cissie had been secretly pleased when it was all over. She had hoped that her children, who were now all grown and flown the nest, might visit, but they were taken up with their own families and their own lives in different parts of the country. And now to hear that the poor king had passed away … Well, it certainly wasn’t the best start to 1936 as far as she was concerned. But soon the room was full of the family all eager for their breakfast so Cissie pushed the sad thoughts from her mind and got on with things.

The following day Cissie was incensed to read in the newspaper that the new King Edward had broken royal protocol by watching the proclamation of his own accession to the throne from a window of St James’s Palace, in the company of the still-married Mrs Simpson.

‘He won’t last as king fer five minutes if he carries on like this, you just mark my words!’ she ranted to George and Sunday, who were enjoying a mid-morning cup of tea with her. ‘Why, it’s disgraceful behaviour. Lord knows what the dear old king would think of it!’

‘But times are changing, Cissie,’ Sunday pointed out, but Cissie was having none of it and shook her head vigorously.