Wartime Princess by Valerie Wilding Page A

session with Mr Cecil Beaton, the photographer, and his assistants. Oh, they do get on my nerves. I try to keep smiling, but they will fiddle-faddle about so. I have a camera and I take good photographs, but I don’t need special lights and little helpers scurrying about. Mummy keeps smiling whatever happens, even if she’s ever so slightly seething inside. The pictures will be lovely, though. They always are.

November 30th
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    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.

December 3rd
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    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!
    â€˜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.

December 5th
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    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.

December 19th
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    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.

December 28th
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    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