The Queen’s Coronation

Chapter 1

CAROLINE

IT WAS TUESDAY LUNCHTIME WHEN CAROLINE HEARD ABOUT it. She was hurrying down to the staff dining hall, stopping in the ladies’ to wash her hands on the way.

There at the sinks, a couple of young maids were tidying their hair.

‘A dozen gardeners planting ceremonial pines in the palace gardens for the coronation.’ The taller of the maids giggled. ‘Just think of those strong arms.’

‘And those sexy Scottish accents,’ the other joined in. ‘I want first pick.’

The sound of their laughs merged into the background as Caroline’s pulse began to throb in her temples.

‘How long are they going to be here?’ the taller maid asked as they went to the door.

‘Only two weeks, then they’ll be back to Balmoral Castle,’ was the last that Caroline heard before the door closed behind them, leaving Caroline alone, her world colliding in on itself.

‘Gardeners from Balmoral,’ she murmured.

Could Angus be among them?

After the war, she’d heard that he was back working in Balmoral.

Could he be part of a group coming to Buckingham Palace?

She turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face, the chilly drops hard on her skin. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. How she wished she didn’t look so washed out! But that was life – well, her life anyway.

She could barely bring herself to imagine the disappointment – or even revulsion – if they met.

Would he even recognize her?

‘You need to pull yourself together,’ she whispered at her reflection. ‘He might not work there anymore, and in any case, he’ll probably be married, too, not at all interested in having anything to do with you.’

Hadn’t he ignored her letters when he was at the front? If he cared, wouldn’t he have been in touch during these long seven years since the war ended?

‘Hadn’t I meant anything to him?’ The old pain reared its head, and she swallowed hard to fight back tears.

The sound of the door broke into her thoughts, and one of the head housekeepers walked in. A formidable woman of fifty, Miss Driscoll scrutinized Caroline as she flustered with the towel.

‘You’re looking a little dishevelled, Caroline.’ Miss Driscoll attempted a caring smile as she proffered a starched handkerchief, shaking it between two fingertips. ‘Anything I can help you with?’

‘No,’ Caroline said quickly, adding, ‘Something in my eye, that’s all.’ She made her way to the door.

‘If you’re quite sure,’ Miss Driscoll said. ‘We wouldn’t want anything to prevent you from giving the queen your very fullest attention, would we?’

Even though she didn’t have Caroline’s experience, Miss Driscoll had been her competitor for the assistant dresser job, hoping to use it as a stepping stone to be the queen’s confidant.

The position could wield power, which is probably why the queen and Miss MacDonald saw fit to give it to Caroline.

The trouble now was that Miss Driscoll was watching Caroline’s every move, trying to undermine her so that the position would once again become vacant.

Caroline gave her a polite smile before leaving. One thing was certain: she couldn’t have Miss Driscoll finding out about Angus. Who knew what the woman would do with that nugget of information?

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Caroline entered the dining hall. The smell of roast chicken filled the warm space, but Caroline found her appetite gone as she headed for the table in a daze.

She couldn’t stop the image of Angus reappearing in her mind, his rugged form, his piercing green eyes, his dark-auburn hair under her hands.

And that’s when it struck her, how very awful this could be.

Because if Angus came to Buckingham Palace, anyone who had ever seen Caroline’s daughter might guess that Annabel was his.

FOR THE NEXT WEEK, Caroline walked around the palace in trepidation.

‘When will they come?’ she whispered as she rubbed the soft ears of the old corgi.

The dog gazed back, her eyes big and sad, and Caroline ruffled her head. ‘If you could speak, you’d tell me to stop being so silly, wouldn’t you?’

But the dog just blinked at her as if to say, Feelings are very real. You can’t just wish them away.

How true that was, she thought as she got back to work, thanking heavens she had the coronation to keep her busy.

In the end, it was Betty who told her of the gardeners’ arrival.

‘They came yesterday evening, about twenty of them.’ The two women were sitting on the bus home from work. ‘Angus is now the head gardener at Balmoral, so he may well be among them. They’ll be working in the gardens, so you might not see him at all.’

A hot perspiration came over Caroline. ‘But what if I do?’

Her mind flitted back to those days when she’d just arrived in London at the beginning of the war.

She’d been a lighthearted nineteen-year-old with a vibrant charm that was now all but gone.

The electricity between her and the young Scots Guard had been immediate and dazzling.

Caroline had never felt a rush of sensations like that before, her whole body charged with a force greater than she could control.

From that first moment, they’d plunged into a heady romance, spending all the hours they could together.

The way he would look at her was disarming, as if he saw straight into the very core of her being, every ounce of hurt and pride and love that she’d ever felt.

He cherished every part of her as if holding it delicately in his hands, as if she were the most precious thing on the planet.

She’d always held back from going all the way, worried about getting pregnant, but when he received orders to go to the front line, their boundaries broke down – like so many other couples at the time.

Why save yourself if you could be killed?

She wanted to know what it was like to give themselves to each other completely, and she wanted to make sure he remembered her when he was away.

Except he didn’t.

Betty broke into her reverie. ‘I never understood why you didn’t get married before he left.’

Regret swamped her. ‘How I wish we had! He asked me to marry him – begged me – but I wanted my father to perform the wedding in the church where I’d grown up.

It was how I’d been raised, how I’d always dreamed it would be.

But Yorkshire was too far, especially with the wartime train restrictions.

So I let him go, promising him we’d do it as soon as he came back on leave.

’ Her face crushed into tears. ‘But he never came back.’

With this, all the emotion of the past, the regrets, the guilt and the shame, burst to the surface. ‘I can’t bear to think about how different my life would have been if we’d have married. I would have been building a home for us. I wouldn’t have had to hide anything.’

‘But when he left for war, you couldn’t have known you were pregnant.’

‘It was a few months before I knew for sure. I wrote straightaway, then numerous times after that, but I never heard back.’ Her heart fell. ‘I checked his service number with the army, but because we weren’t married, they couldn’t tell me anything about him.’

‘Maybe your letters didn’t reach him?’

‘The army told me that the mail was usually efficient, and that undelivered letters were returned.’ She wrung her hands in frustration.

‘There were times I cursed the day I ever met him, but then there were times I just wanted to see him, to throw my arms around him. I was pregnant, unmarried, and would soon be booted out of my job and my room in the servants’ quarters.

I couldn’t tell my father. He would have lost his position as vicar if anyone found out. I was at my wit’s end.’

‘And then Frank came along,’ Betty said with a groan.

‘I know you think he’s a waste of space, but Frank saved my life.

He’d liked me since I arrived in the palace, and we’d become friends of sorts.

When he worked out what was wrong, he asked me to marry him, said that a child of mine would be a child of his.

’ She looked at her hands. ‘Of course I said yes. No matter what they say about how the war changed perceptions, without a husband, a pregnant woman would be out of a job, and she’d find it hard to get another – well, another honest one.

And what about my child? Annabel would have grown up an outcast.’

Betty said gently, ‘Marrying Frank wasn’t really a choice, was it?’

‘No. I’d already waited months, and there was still no word from Angus. I had this one chance to grab respectability for my child, and I had to be grateful. Inside, it made me feel dead to marry a man I barely knew and definitely didn’t love, but I had to make it work.’

‘And you never heard from Angus again?’

Caroline shook her head. ‘He vanished. I only know he survived the war because I heard he was back working in Balmoral.’

Putting a hand on hers, Betty said, ‘It’ll be difficult if you see him.’

Bottled-up emotions welled up inside her. ‘He broke my heart. He ignored the letters I wrote to him, begging him to let me know he was at least alive. Even when he was back, he never got in touch with me.’ She looked up, taking a big gulp of air. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I saw him.’

‘He might not even come, and if he does, you probably won’t even see him, let alone talk to him.

If you do, don’t tell him more than he needs to know.

There’s a strong chance he assumes you had the baby adopted, so there’s no need to bring up Annabel.

We can’t have him thinking he can meet her – who knows where that would lead!

’ Betty gave her a solemn nod. ‘Stay aloof, polite, and give nothing away.’

Caroline nodded. ‘I can’t imagine what people would think of me if they knew the truth – I’d lose my job, for a start.’

Betty patted her hand. ‘Remember, you have me on your side. Don’t worry about a thing.’

‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Betty, helping me with the baby, getting me through it all.’

But Betty shushed her. ‘If we have no family of our own, then we have to be family for each other, don’t we?’ She pulled away to look at her. ‘And I’ll never forget how you helped me, too. Your friends are sometimes the best thing you have in your life.’

And through all the difficulties and pain, Caroline could only be thankful she had a friend like Betty. Whatever happened, she would have this one special woman who would always be on her side.