Abdication: A Novel by Juliet Nicolson

to at home were becoming part of her new existence. She hoped that Nat would still be in the workshop and that she might catch him if she hurried. Sir Philip had already mentioned making arrangements for her uniform. His tailor could make her something in a twinkling of an eye. Trousers or skirt? Any preference? Yes, yes, Sir Philip had agreed, trousers: far more practical. He certainly thought of everything.
    The high-pitched hissing of the switchboard, announcing that her time was up, sounded in the earpiece before May could fully explain to Nat what had happened during the preceding hour but Nat had heard enough to shout to Sarah who was in the workshop that day.
    “May’s landed the job! They didn’t even ask for references!” and May heard a distant but exultant “Hurrah for May!” before the operator told her that her time allowance had expired and she must replace the receiver.
    Very early the following morning, before it was even light, May woke up in the tiny bedroom in Sussex that she was now entitled to call hers. She shook smooth the dark red and green paisley eiderdown, and pulled it up over her. The eiderdown had slithered off her bed during the night and landed in a heap on the floor, leaving behind just a thin sheet for covering and a blanket that was more holes than darning. The seams of the eiderdown were weak with age and curled up feathers had floated out all over the carpet. May could see from her raised position in bed that a few of them had attached themselves tothe dark velvet of Aunt Gladys’s hat, which was lying on top of the chest of drawers.
    The room appeared not to have been used for a while as a musty smell floated up from the dark carpet. May wished sometimes that her nose were not so sensitive. The clove-studded oranges in Sir Philip’s study had been delicious, the cigar smoke in Sir Philip’s study a little headache-inducing, but dampness smelt depressing. The floor-length soap-scented cotton nightdress, lent to her last night by Mrs. Cage, was covered in tiny pink roses and must have shrunk in the wash judging by the way it clung to her slim hips. May longed for a cup of sweet tea but did not dare go downstairs until it was light enough for her to see to get dressed in her day clothes. Mrs. Cage had promised her that the new trousers and jacket of her uniform would be ready in a day or two but meanwhile she would have to make do with the interview suit and a pair of stockings borrowed from Mrs. Cage. May had reluctantly accepted Mrs. Cage’s offer of a pair of old step-ins but the elastic had given way on the housekeeper’s intimate second-hand garments and were far too loose to stay in place round May’s slim waist. May hoped that her own underwear would have dried on the fender where she had laid it after a thorough rinsing the night before.
    A thousand things were running through her mind and she wanted to get them all down in the blue diary as soon as it was light and before recent events crowded out the earlier ones from her mind. Pushing her long dark hair back from her forehead, she wondered if Bertha was missing her. She wondered if she would ever be warm. Was anyone looking after the car? And then she was unable to prevent the bigger questions from tumbling right into the forefront of her mind. Was her mother lonely? Had May made a terrible mistake by leaving her? For a moment a sense of panic overwhelmed her. Sitting bolt upright, by now painfully awake, she wondered if, in all the excitement of this new life, she was forgetting what it felt like to be a daughter?
    She shifted back down in the bed and checked the catch of the bracelet of silver forget-me-nots that encircled her wrist to make sure it was secure. Another puffball of feathery curls escaped from the gap in the lining and floated into the air. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep but at once she found herself thinking about Julian. She had been taken aback by the speed and the familiar ease