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they’re watching the King, they might be watching the girl who’ll be the next queen. My sister, Elizabeth.
    Well, I’ll watch Lilibet, too. I’ll keep my eyes peeled whenever we’re out. If anyone’s watching her, I’ll see them first. The trouble is that I don’t know how to tell someone is a spy, unless he speaks.

August 15th
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    There are German planes everywhere. We’re not allowed to leave the castle, just in case.

August 17th
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    The south-west of London was badly bombed yesterday. It was Friday, so lots of people were at work. It must have been just terrible. Lilibet said she’s heard that one of our kitchen maids went home because her mother was ill, and found no house at all – just a pile of brick, wood, broken glass and a bath. Luckily her mother’s in hospital.

September 8th
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    There’s bombing all the time. I hate it. I’m frightened for Mummy and Papa. Every day they’re either out visiting, or they’re in the palace. I’m so afraid a bomber will fly over London, see our home and bomb it. Every time Mummy and Papa are due back at Windsor, I can’t bear the wait until they appear.
    But I never tell them how worried I am. Lilibet told me I can do my bit by keeping my chin up, so I’m trying, but it doesn’t exactly help the war effort! She says as soon as she’s old enough she’ll join up and become a lady soldier or something. ‘That’s how I want to do my bit for the war effort,’ she said, ‘but don’t tell anyone, Margaret.’
    Granny won’t like that.
    Everyone’s doing their bit except me. I can’t do anything. I haven’t got a bit to do.
    We hear the bombs sometimes. Crawfie does her best to ignore them, but I think even she is nervous. The maids are. I hear them talking. They’re really scared, but they keep going, so we must, too.

September 12th
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    Lilibet was quiet this morning. She didn’t want to say what was wrong, but I made her.
    â€˜You mustn’t worry, Margaret,’ she said. ‘What’s happened has happened, and everyone’s all right.’
    â€˜What was it?’ I asked. ‘Tell me, or I’ll imagine something even worse. I’ll have bad dreams, you know I will.’
    She smiled. ‘Your dreams are exciting, not bad,’ she said. ‘Not that I believe half of them.’
    I grinned. ‘Tell me!’
    I stopped smiling when she told me that a bomb had fallen on our terrace at Buckingham Palace. It didn’t blow up straight away, but it exploded later on and blew out windows and smashed the conservatory.
    â€˜Our swimming pool was blown up, too,’ said Lilibet.
    â€˜They’ll mend it, won’t they?’ I asked.
    She was shocked. ‘You mustn’t think of things like that when people are fighting for their lives, Margaret.’
    I folded my arms and stuck my lip out. ‘I was actually thinking about it being mended after the war,’ I said, which wasn’t strictly true.

September 16th
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    I noticed that Mummy and Papa are quieter than usual. Mummy’s pale and wants to rest a lot. It’s only today that I’ve found out what happened when the palace was bombed.
    Lilibet and I are truly upset. I hate the Nazis, hate them, hate them, hate them. We’re not sure exactly what happened, because our parents have only told us bits, but we’ve managed to piece it together.
    A German bomber flew straight up the Mall and dropped six bombs on Buckingham Palace. Mummy and Papa were sitting together in the maids’ room, and one of the bombs blew out their windows. They were covered in broken glass. I can’t bear it. Another bomb ruined the chapel, but we haven’t found out what the others have done.
    We begged Mummy and Papa to stay in Windsor, but they say they’ve their duty to do, however difficult. The people have