Wartime Princess (15 page)

 

 

I bet we have a white Christmas. I've never known the weather so cold.

Philip will come to Sandringham. That'll be fun, because he's great at joining in. He's tall, too, so he can help decorate the tree, so I don't have to climb the ladder, which I don't care for.

His Christmas invitation is another sign that everything's proceeding well, though nothing can be taken for granted where royal life is concerned.

In a few weeks we four will leave for our South African visit. My first trip abroad. I'm so excited. It'll be lovely and warm, I know. Ruby and Bobo are in a flurry of lists and dress fittings and jewellery checks. Lilibet's so looking forward to Christmas but, although she longs to see South Africa, she'd rather not leave Philip behind. If only the engagement could be made official before we go, but it can't. I just hope they get on with making Philip a British citizen. Papa's given his permission for that, and Philip's delighted because, as a citizen, he can have a proper career in our navy.

 

 

Mummy and I had lunch by ourselves today. It's so cold we had to send for warm cardigans. She asked if I'm excited about the trip.

‘Very,' I said. ‘I just wish Lilibet wasn't sad about leaving Philip.'

‘It'll be fine when we're there,' said Mummy. ‘So many new things to see – it will be a distraction for her. She'll barely have time to think of Philip.' She sipped a glass of water. ‘In fact, it will give them both a chance to decide if they're doing the right thing.'

I put down my knife and fork and folded my arms.

‘Darling, we don't mean to be difficult about the engagement,' said Mummy. ‘There are some members of the household and the government who believe that the people won't accept Philip. In fact, there's been another horrid poll in the newspaper. About fifty-five per cent of the people think it's a good idea, but forty per cent are against it.'

‘You mean because of the German thing?'

Mummy nodded.

‘But the war's over,' I said. ‘Shouldn't we forgive and forget? After all, Philip was on our side. He didn't go round shooting down Spitfires, did he?'

She laughed.

 

 

The whole palace is in a going-away fluster. Lilibet's sulking because Papa told Philip he can't come on board our ship to say goodbye.

‘We'll be gone for ten weeks,' she said angrily. ‘It's such a little thing to ask.'

‘It's the little thing that would give the game away to newspaper reporters,' I said.

She couldn't argue with that and, to be fair, she's been careful not to be seen in public with Philip.

‘Anyway,' I went on, ‘he's having a lovely farewell dinner party for us in Chester Street. Did you know he's inviting Noël Coward? I'm busy learning all his songs in case I get a chance to sing with him.'

‘Margaret, you wouldn't!' she said.

I would.

 

 

Lilibet and I have studied the map and looked at all the exotic names of places we might be visiting: Bloemfontein, Basutoland, Swaziland, Bechuanaland, Natal.

‘Here's a good name,' said Lilibet, pointing. ‘Port Elizabeth.'

‘Port Margaret would sound nicer,' I said.

‘Ha ha!'

I immediately broke into the song I've been driving Lilibet mad with, ‘Carry me back to the old Transvaal, That's where I long to be…'

She covered her ears. ‘All right, Port Margaret would be wonderful! Anyway, we can hardly carry you back to the old Transvaal when you haven't even been there!'

We're travelling by air, rail and road. Won't it be lovely to be in sunshine after this terrible cold winter. Mummy says she's never known it to be so bitter, and she's Scottish.

Papa feels bad leaving Britain, because there are so many problems caused by the weather, but Mummy says he's looking forward to the trip. He probably realizes that if Lilibet marries, it could be the last time we four are together.

 

 

Huge snowfalls everywhere. Roads blocked. It looks so beautiful out of our windows, but people are suffering. I hope we can get to Portsmouth to board our ship.

 

 

We're on our way! We left Buckingham Palace in the snow and drove out with the Household Cavalry trotting alongside, looking so smart. Crowds waved us all the way to Waterloo, where we boarded the train for Portsmouth.

On the way, we peered into people's gardens, and in many there were grown-ups and children waving Union Jacks. They'd waited outside in the cold for us to whizz past. We couldn't believe how kind people are.

Portsmouth was even colder than London, with a biting, sleety wind. When I tried to speak, my lips wouldn't work properly. But once we'd boarded the
Vanguard
, endured a forty-one-gun salute and waved to some of the naval and private ships who'd gathered to see us off, we were cosy enough.

 

 

Ooooh, I never want to see the Bay of Biscay ever again. Not that I saw much this time, because I could barely move from my bed. Seasickness is the nastiest thing. Poor Lilibet was worse than me; she said she wanted to die. Mummy couldn't move, and Papa stayed with her.

But when the rough seas settled, how different everything became! Papa's now wearing tropical clothes. Lilibet and I are in cotton dresses, but Mummy still dresses in her own glamorous way.

You can do rifle shooting on this ship. We've all had a go and I'm pretty good at it, better than Lilibet!

We all play games, and the officers join in. Philip would be livid if he saw how much they all like Lilibet and what fun she's having with them! Such a flirt!

Papa's had reports about how bad the British weather is. I think he feels guilty that he's in sunshine while everyone at home is freezing. He said there are twenty-foot snowdrifts in some places, and whole villages are cut off. There's a lot of flu about, too, and people are dying. Papa's such a caring king.

Lilibet told me Philip will become a British citizen on February 28th, but it won't be announced straight away. I think then she'll put pressure on Papa to agree to a formal engagement. He doesn't like being pushed, so she must be careful. I do think he looks a little better now – not so thin and exhausted. The rest and sunshine are doing him good. Mummy just basks under a parasol and laughs at all of us.

 

 

The weather was glorious when we first sighted Cape Town. Table Mountain is a strange sight, with its long flat top. It had a layer of cloud over it, looking for all the world like a tablecloth.

The heat got to us after a couple of days. We're just not used to it. Mummy uses a parasol or umbrella when we're riding in open cars in blazing sunshine. She'd hate her face to get sunburnt.

We've hardly had a moment to ourselves! The weeks are flying by. There have been audiences with important people, garden parties, balls, opening parliament, pageants… We walked for about a mile through dripping, steamy forest to visit the Victoria Falls, we've seen strange animals and brilliantly-coloured birds, and it's so hot. Whenever we get where we're going, all we want to do is flop, but first there's the national anthem, which we have to stand for, of course, and they always sing every verse.

Some of the highlights: when there was a storm in a town we visited, and the people thought we were bringers-of-rain! Being allowed to ride with the train driver and pulling the whistle! Visiting an ostrich farm, seeing baby ostriches (ugly) and being given an egg (huge). Hearing the official news of Philip becoming British and, first, seeing Lilibet's delighted smile and then recognizing a determined look in her eye that said, ‘Now then, Papa…' And horse riding on wide, empty beaches! All so exciting and new!

Not everything was good. King George of Greece died while we were away, and his brother Paul assumed the throne. Papa has been quite short-tempered. He roared at our driver one day, and he was furious with me when I laughed at a lady's curtsey – I felt bad when he pointed out to me that she was clumsy because her joints were stiff and painful. Then I laughed at an African chief when he tripped over his words. That was really, really bad. Lilibet said I should have known better, being the daughter of someone who has problems with public speaking. When I remember that day I feel ashamed.

Mummy has a memory that makes her feel uncomfortable. A Zulu man ran at our car, shouting and waving his arm. Papa yelled at the driver to speed up, and Mummy bravely hit the man over the head with her parasol. The police dragged him away. The awful thing was that later we learned he was only trying to give Lilibet a ten-shilling note as an early birthday present. We all felt sick when we heard. Lilibet was terribly upset. ‘I must write to him,' she said, but unfortunately we don't know where he is. It's such a sad, but sweet story.

On Lilibet's twenty-first birthday, she sat in front of a microphone at a small table in the shade and broadcast a message to the Commonwealth. In it, she dedicated her whole life, whether it be long or short, to our people and to the service of the Empire. She looked so lovely, and sounded so sincere, and when she said ‘whether it be long or short', I had to swallow hard. Her life is going to be what Mummy calls ‘a challenge'.

She had some breathtaking presents: lots of diamonds – after all, this is a diamond-mining country – her final two pearls, a gold key to Cape Town, and presents from all the family and the royal household. What brought the biggest smile to her face was a telegram from Philip, which she refused to show to anybody. They spoke on the telephone, too, and when she'd finished, I hugged her and we didn't speak.

 

 

Eventually, there was a farewell luncheon, when we all received jewels, and Mummy was given a gold tea service. They were terribly generous.

We waved goodbye to beautiful South Africa, and then it was back on the
Vanguard
, very tired, and glad of some peace and quiet. Poor Papa seems as tired as he was when we left England, and looks much thinner to me. He needs rest.

I think Lilibet would gladly have taken an oar and rowed if it would have helped us get back any faster! But even when we reached Portsmouth, there were greetings and cannon salutes and inspections and flowers and a civic reception. Then a peaceful train ride to Waterloo where we were greeted by the prime minister and other dignitaries, then into a carriage. Oh, it was so good to cross the Thames and see the dear old Palace of Westminster again. There must have been thousands on the streets, welcoming us home. Westminster Bridge itself was lined with well-wishers. Then, back to the palace for a balcony appearance, and all the time, Lilibet must have been bursting to rush home and telephone Philip.

 

 

Everything's back to normal for me, but my sister's in a whirl! She's always out at parties or the theatre, or even nightclubs, where I'm not allowed to go. Just wait till I'm eighteen! I'll have such a good time.

Lilibet sometimes comes to see me in the morning to tell me all about the night before. I must say, she always seems to have young men crowding round her. Philip had better watch out! I'm sure Mummy and Papa are encouraging her to mix with all these young men (from good families, of course). She enjoys flirting. But I know her heart belongs to Philip.

I joined Papa for a stroll in the warm night air after dinner last night. Lilibet was out for the evening, and Mummy had a headache. The dogs all followed us out, of course.

I took a deep breath. ‘Papa, are you going to announce Lilibet's engagement to Philip?'

He was quiet for a moment. ‘If I announce it, it will be official, and there'll be no going back.'

He sat down heavily on a bench overlooking the lake. I sat beside him, picked up his arm and hooked it round my shoulders, like I used to do when I was little. He patted my hand. ‘Margaret, I still don't know if he's right for her.'

‘Why not?' I asked.

‘I don't know. He's a terrific chap and all that, but he'd be marrying into a life that he's just not used to. Not fitted for. He's used to going where he pleases, when he pleases, sailing, cricket, nightclubs, all that sort of thing.'

‘But if he marries, he'll change, won't he?'

Papa gazed up through the branches of a horse chestnut tree. ‘Will he? I don't know.'

‘Then why not ask him?'

Papa smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. ‘What a good idea!'

I don't know if he meant that, or if he was really laughing at me.

 

 

Papa has to make a speech at the Guildhall today. His cough is bad, and his voice isn't strong. I hope it doesn't wear him out.

 

 

Lilibet wants to talk to Papa about the engagement, but she keeps putting it off, because he's clearly exhausted. Only one thing keeps the smile on her face. The day after tomorrow Queen Mary's having a luncheon party here at the palace, to celebrate her eightieth birthday. Philip's been invited.

‘That has to be a good sign, doesn't it, Margaret?' she whispered, as we waited to meet some charity officials for a reception. ‘If Granny approves of Philip, I mean?'

‘Ssh,' I hissed. I didn't want us to get black looks for talking at the wrong time. But then I leaned towards her and whispered, ‘If Papa had decided against him, he definitely wouldn't be coming, would he, so it is a good sign.'

That earned me a look from Mummy. How she can show she's cross at the same time as giving a beaming smile beats me, but she can.