Free Wartime Princess by Valerie Wilding Page B

guests to lunch and to dances and parties, but it’s not the same as when the war wasn’t on.
    But she’s going to Coppins while Philip stays there, Aunt Marina said. That made Lilibet’s eyes sparkle.

May 5th
    Â 
    Â 
    Lilibet was made President of the Royal College of Music a couple of days ago. I actually think I’m a better musician than her. She needs the music in front of her all the time. I don’t. If I hear a tune once, I can play it. Or, at least, a pretty good version of it. Still, I suppose they’d rather have the heir to the throne as president than the number two princess.

May 12th
    Â 
    Â 
    Women of eighteen must do war work now, by law, even if it’s just part-time. Lilibet looked very satisfied when she heard that!
    â€˜Papa will have to let me do war work when I’m eighteen,’ she said and she walked off singing. But later, I found her writing letters, looking very fed up.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘You looked so happy this morning, and you’ve had a letter from Philip.’ (There was one on her desk and she was obviously writing back.)
    She put the lid on her fountain pen, laid it down, and fondled Dookie’s ears. Four dogs were curled up by her feet.
    â€˜Mummy and I talked about this war work thing,’ she said. ‘She explained what I suppose I already knew – that when I’m eighteen I’ll be taking on a lot more official duties. I won’t be able to do regular work.’
    I laughed. ‘Just imagine a factory manager, if one of his workers asked for a day off to open a new hospital!’ I launched into my impression of what I imagined he’d do, hands behind my back, striding up and down crossly.
    â€˜What, Miss Windsor?’ I said in a gruff voice. ‘What’s that you say? Time off to open an ’orspital? Blimey, I’d like time off to open a book, I would, and no mistake!’
    Lilibet burst out laughing. ‘Make fun of me all you like, but I won’t give up nagging Papa!’

May 20th
    Â 
    Â 
    We’re in London tonight. We went to a service at St Paul’s Cathedral today, to thank God for our victory over a German general called Rommel, in North Africa.
    As we drew up at the cathedral, Lilibet gasped. (None of the people watching knew she gasped – she managed to keep her smile and went on waving.)
    â€˜What?’ I asked.
    â€˜Look at the state of the cathedral,’ she said.
    Great chunks of stone were missing and it looked as if someone had dug bits out of the walls.
    â€˜Bomb damage,’ she said. ‘But at least it’s still standing.’
    Papa wore his admiral’s uniform, and Mummy looked beautiful. As we went in, the people watching made lots of ooh and aah noises. We’ve hardly ever been in the papers, and I think they’re surprised at how much we’ve grown. My sister looks like a young woman. That makes me feel a bit left behind.

June 4th
    Â 
    Â 
    Last night we went to the Strand Theatre, and saw a comedy play called Arsenic and Old Lace . It was our very first evening visit to a West End theatre. Mummy said, ‘You should have seen the West End before the war. So full of life, and lights and excitement everywhere.’
    Well, I thought last night was pretty exciting. Two sweet little girls presented us with posies of flowers, Lilibet first, of course, then me. They curtsied so beautifully, I bet they have ballet lessons.
    When we entered our box, the audience, who’d been waiting, stood and cheered! That was a surprise! Afterwards, we went backstage to meet the cast and the backstage workers. There are more people behind the scenes than there are in the play. And it’s not nearly as glamorous backstage as it is onstage. I told everyone how much I liked the play, and they seemed pleased.
    How wonderful it must be to walk on to the stage of a theatre like the Strand, and see an audience before