Wartime Princess (10 page)

 

 

Our air force has bombed Berlin to smithereens. They hit important government buildings, like the ones that control their navy and air force. It's good news, but all Lilibet and I can think about is the people living in the bombed areas – the ordinary German families. They probably don't want the war any more than the ordinary British people do. Yet they're the ones who are killed or injured, or who lose people they love. It's all so cruel.

 

 

We rehearsed for a while today. I got the giggles really badly at one point. It's so funny to see my ladylike sister bounding around the stage. She has such a good time doing these pantomimes.

She's going to have an even better time! Mummy and Papa have invited Philip to visit us over Christmas whenever he can, and they've invited him to see his two cousins on stage. He said yes!

‘I'll ask him if he'd like to be in the pantomime with us,' said Lilibet.

I hope he does. That would be really jolly! But whether he does or not, the fact that he's coming has brightened my sister up. Unfortunately, she's now so anxious for her performance to be perfect that she keeps asking me to hear her lines – over and over. I've told her it's not much good just learning the words, you have to practise saying them as you act. I don't know if that's true, but it means we act out all her scenes, with me playing all the other parts. That way I get some fun out of it!

She's often busy these days with learning-to-be-queen stuff, so it's lovely to spend some ‘silly' time together.

 

 

We tried on our costumes today. One of my Princess Roxana costumes is a gorgeous robe of blue and silver. I tried doing our tap dance in it, and it needs to be shortened if they don't want me falling over the widow's washing basket. That basket will hide Lilibet at the beginning. If she doesn't fall asleep waiting for her cue, she'll burst out of it and surprise the audience. Especially a certain young man who will be sitting in the front row with Mummy and Papa.

This year our cousins Edward and Alexandra will be in our pantomime. Alexandra will be seven on Christmas Day. Michael's too little, but I'm sure he can watch if he's quiet.

 

 

The last performance of
Aladdin
was last night. I could hardly drag myself out of bed this morning. Today seems dull. Lilibet's still sparkling, though, because Philip watched one of the performances. Although he flatly refused to be in the show, he was a terrific spectator. He laughed in all the right places, and he clapped madly, especially when we did anything!

Mr Churchill is ill. He's abroad somewhere – we're not being told where. I do hope he gets home soon and has a nice rest over Christmas.

 

 

The air force bombed Berlin on Christmas night. How perfectly ghastly. Couldn't they all have stopped the war just for a couple of days?

Our own Christmas was lovely, but that made me feel a little guilty, because so many people are having sad times. I told Philip I was sorry to hear of his brother-in-law's death, and he said a very gruff, ‘Thank you very much, Margaret,' and dragged me off to show me a card trick. He likes to keep his feelings to himself, I think. You can usually tell his mood by his eyes. They're very blue, and when he's happy they're just as authors like Enid Blyton describe them – they really do twinkle!

 

 

There's no question about it. My sister's in love! When Philip's around, she can't take her eyes off him. When he's not around, she can't stop talking about him. Everyone says that's a sign of love. And if I tease her, she gets cross and pink, then a huge smile spreads across her face and she can't get rid of it!

I love teasing her. But I get more out of her if I don't tease. I asked yesterday if she thought she might marry Philip one day. ‘Goodness, Margaret,' she said. ‘I'm too young to be thinking about marriage.'

I don't think that's true.

 

 

I dropped my scarf when I was out playing with the dogs, so I went to look for it. Two of the gardeners were cutting dead bits off bushes, and I heard one say, ‘Something big's on the way, you mark my words.'

The other one said, ‘Hitler better watch himself, then.'

‘He had, and no mistake,' said the other. ‘Mr Churchill's got plans for him, and it ain't inviting him to tea.'

Ooh, that gave me such a thrill. I'll ask Papa if there is ‘something big' happening.

 

 

Papa telephoned after lunch, and asked to speak to us. After Lilibet, I took the phone and asked, ‘Papa, has Mr Churchill got a secret plan to beat Hitler?'

He was quiet for a moment, then said, ‘Why do you ask, Margaret?'

I told him about the gardeners, and he laughed. ‘Mr Churchill's fighting fit after his illness, and he's full of plans to beat Hitler, darling. One after the other! Don't worry – we'll win this war. How are your lessons going?'

If Papa's sure we'll win, then I'm sure, too.

 

 

Lilibet found me hunched up in my bath robe, reading
Black Beauty
in front of the measly electric fire. We never have coal fires now. We mustn't waste water, or coal or anything else for that matter. Certainly not food.

She closed my book and said, ‘Margaret, I've something to tell you.'

‘What?'

Lilibet put her arm round me and said, ‘It's sad news. Our cousin George – George Lascelles – has been wounded.'

I put my hand to my mouth.

‘He's all right, though,' she went on. ‘But the poor young man has been put in a horrid prison called Colditz Castle.'

‘Colditz,' I repeated. ‘What a horrible name. Poor George.'

‘But listen! Papa said that even though the Germans insist that Colditz is escape-proof, officers have escaped from there. In fact, two of them simply walked out!'

‘Don't be silly,' I said. ‘There must be guards.'

‘It's true! They wore fake German uniforms, made by the prisoners, and had false papers. One of them, Mr Churchill told Papa, even had the colossal cheek to order a soldier to salute!'

I laughed, then I got upset again about George, but Lilibet grabbed my hands.

‘Margaret, don't you see? If they can escape, maybe George can.'

How exciting to think that our own cousin might escape the Nazis. Exciting, but scary.

Lilibet hugged me. ‘Let's hope this beastly war's soon over, then all the chaps who've been imprisoned can come home to their families. Aunt Mary must be feeling dreadful about George. Thank goodness she has war duties to occupy her.'

‘War duties?'

‘Yes, she's Commandant of the ATS.' Lilibet saw my blank look and explained, ‘Auxiliary Territorial Service – it's the women's branch of the army. She travels all over, visiting ATS units.' She put my book back in my lap and stood up. ‘I must write to her. Perhaps I can visit her. I'll ask Mummy.'

My sister will be a wonderful queen. She doesn't always show it, but inside she really cares about everybody.

 

 

Lilibet practically wrenched my arm off this morning as I was putting my hat on. She flew into the hall, grabbed me and dragged me outside. ‘Margaret, you'll never guess!'

Of course, I did guess immediately, that Philip's coming to visit, so I decided to tease her. ‘Give me three goes,' I said.

She waited impatiently as I pretended to think.

‘Don't scowl,' I said. ‘You'll get wrinkles on your forehead, and they'll look terrible when your portrait's on pound notes.'

‘Ooh, you –'

I dodged out of her grasp and said, ‘All right, sourpuss, I'm guessing. Let's see … umm … You've got a new fountain pen?' (Lilibet is very fussy about her pens.)

‘No.'

‘One of the dogs is having puppies?'

‘No!'

‘Right. Last go. Could it be … Philip's coming to stay?'

‘No!'

‘No?' That took me by surprise. ‘What, then?'

She pulled me beneath the branches of a cedar tree. ‘Promise not to say anything to anyone?'

This sounded good! ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.'

‘King George of Greece has asked Papa to support Philip's application to become a British citizen!'

‘Oh. Isn't he one already?'

‘No, silly. Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark?'

I couldn't see why it was so important, until suddenly daylight dawned. Perhaps Philip wants to become British so he can marry Lilibet. Is that what she was thinking? But he couldn't have asked her to marry him, first because he'd have to ask Papa's permission, and second, if he had, her face would be lit up like the sun. Anyway, she's only seventeen.

I felt confused. If I said he might want to marry her, and he didn't, I would never forgive myself, because she'd be mortified. But surely that's what she's thinking?

Luckily, a footman hobbled over to ask us to go to the Queen's drawing room. Lilibet asked why he was limping.

‘I fell over a corgi, Ma'am.'

‘Oh dear, they do fall asleep in odd places, don't they?' she said. He looked uncomfortable. ‘Is that what happened?' she asked.

‘No, Ma'am,' said the footman. ‘He was trying to bite me.'

I coughed to smother my giggles. Lilibet simply twitched.

 

 

If Philip has let Lilibet think he might want to marry her, he'd better not let her down, that's all I can say. I would never, ever forgive him. I want him to love her as much as we all do.

 

 

Great plans are afoot, Lilibet told me, as she pulled out our big map of Europe. We're going to invade Germany. It's one of those things everyone seems to know about, but no one's saying anything. Papa knows, of course, so I'm sure Mummy does, too. That must be how Lilibet knows. Her eighteenth birthday's coming up. It's a very important one for her, as heir to the throne.

 

 

My sister is grown-up. It's official. She's now eighteen and is a Counsellor of State. That means she can sign things on behalf of the King, if he's away, for instance, along with the three other Counsellors. They are Uncle Henry, the Duke of Gloucester, Aunt Mary, the Princess Royal, and cousin Alexandra, Princess Arthur of Connaught. It's a terribly responsible thing.

She had the most gorgeous mink coat, and two more pearls from Papa. She has thirty-six now – three more years and she'll have the full set.

Mummy and Papa gave her a horse, and she has her own new little corgi pup, called Susan. That's a sweet name. I told Lilibet that if I ever have a baby daughter, I shall call her Susan.

‘Would you seriously name a princess after a dog?'

‘Granny had a dog called Elizabeth when you were born,' I said.

She looked appalled. ‘No!' Then she burst out laughing, and threw a dog biscuit at me.

The Grenadier Guards were on parade for Lilibet's birthday; this time they presented her with their Colour. It's a flag that's very special to them, made of deep red silk, with Lilibet's initial embroidered on it, and a coronet above.

Thank goodness, she had a card from Philip. He's staying in the north of England while his ship's being prepared for sea.

We also had a lovely outing to see a musical comedy called
Something in the Air
at the Palace Theatre in Shaftesbury Avenue. It was very jolly. I sang a song called ‘Yom Pom Pom' all the way back to the palace. It's not that far, so I don't know why everyone was groaning by the time we arrived. They should be pleased to have free entertainment. ‘Yom pom pom, chirra chirra bim bom!'

 

 

The invasion's soon. It must be. Every time we go out in the car, we see hordes of soldiers and army vehicles heading south. Papa said that coming from London the other night, he passed a field full of army tents. Next morning, he went back after breakfast and the field was empty!

‘You imagined it,' Lilibet said.

‘Indeed I did not,' he said crossly, but then he saw her mouth twitching, and he laughed.

We can guess where the soldiers have gone. To the south coast!

Oh, please, please let this be the end of the war. I so long to be back in London all the time, going to dances and parties and theatres and the ballet.

 

 

When it did come, there was no mistaking it. D-Day! From early morning, the sky was filled with aeroplanes, all growling off in the same direction. Papa and Mummy were in London, so we had to wait to find out what was happening.

During the night and early morning, men landed on the beaches of Normandy, in France. They fought their way ashore. Canada and America were part of the invasion. They broke through the German defences, and are on their way to victory!

 

 

I don't like it. Papa's going to visit the men on the Normandy beaches.

‘I'm sure Mr Churchill wouldn't let him go if it was dangerous,' said Lilibet. ‘We can't do anything about it, Margaret, so we must just keep calm and carry on.'

I laughed. ‘You sound like one of those men on the wireless who say things like, “Remember, careless talk costs lives!”'

She smiled. ‘Come on, let's tackle some piano duets. We haven't played together for ages.'

‘No, it's too nice out,' I said. ‘Let's go for a walk and talk about what it'll be like when the war's over.'

I love doing that.