Chapter 3

After Christmas, once the news of the girls’ honours was officially released, they were inundated by messages of congratulations from friends, from fellow charity staff and volunteers, from local politicians and church leaders, and most warmly from Jeremy and Bishop Sophie; both of whom visited on New Year’s Eve.

“I’m afraid I knew about this honour a while ago,” Bishop Sophie apologised as Jenny poured her a glass of sherry, “or at least I knew of the nomination. Lady Marina asked if I could write a letter to support you all, something I had no hesitation doing. I can’t think of a group of girls who are more worthy of such honours. That very first time when I met you, Poppy dear, I felt something in you. There was your desperate honesty, and a certain vulnerability, but more than anything, I felt the strength of your convictions. Then, after reading your story...”

“You’ve read our book?” Belle asked.

“Oh yes, I bought a copy, and we have some for sale in the Cathedral shop. Your story Poppy, the horrors you saw on the streets, yet you find space to tell funny stories, and the pictures of missing children, and that long list of friends you’ve lost. After all that, you turn out to be a wonderful, loving girl, one any mother would be proud of. All of you, I’m proud to call you my friends.”

About an hour after Bishop Sophie left, Jeremy arrived with his daughters, Meg and Cassie. Belle had a ball playing with the girls, who are six and eight-years-old respectively.

Once they’d all settled down, Jeremy lifted his daughters onto his lap.

“I think it’s time for me to give you both your best Christmas present,” Jeremy told them.

“Even better than the Lego castle?” Cassie asked.

“And better than the scooter and footballs,” Jeremy told you, “I want you to meet your sister.”

“Where?” Cassie asked.

“She’s sitting there, next to Belle.”

“Poppy is our sister! Really!”

“Yes, before you were born, before I was married to your mother, I had a relationship, and we had a baby girl. I didn’t know about this, because Poppy’s mother and I had split up, and I went to prison for a while, I wasn’t a nice man back then. I only recently found out I was Poppy’s dad. I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I wasn’t sure if you’d want another sister.”

“Is she coming to live with us?” Meg asked.

“No, she isn’t coming living with us, our house isn’t big enough...”

“She could share my room,” Meg told her dad.

Poppy slid off the sofa and knelt before Jeremy and his girls, “that’s a wonderful offer, but I live here with my other sisters, and my adoptive parents. Do you know about adoption?”

“Oh yes,” Cassie answered, “my friend Abbie is adopted, her mummy isn’t alive now, and her daddy is in prison, so she’s been adopted by her Auntie Karen.”

“That’s kind of like me, my mummy died, and at the time, we didn’t know your daddy was my daddy; so, Alex and Jenny adopted me, and Belle, and Katie, and Lia. We’re all sisters now. You’re welcome to come here any time you like...”

“Can we play in Lia’s office?”

Poppy looked at Lia, “of course you can, and I’ve got games and Disney+ on the TV in there now,” Lia told them.

Later, as Belle, Meg and Cassie watched cartoons, Jeremy joined the family around the kitchen table.

“What made you decide to tell them about me,” Poppy asked.

“I couldn’t keep it from Sherry any longer. Even though I’m not mentioned in your book, Sherry always had her suspicions, she always wondered why I felt so close to you. So, with some of your escapades laid bare in print, I decided it was about time Sherry knew the truth, so I told her on Christmas Eve. I was going to tell the girls on Christmas Day, but Sherry felt it was better if they found out with you in the room.”

“Did Sherry think we were ... you know ... having sex?”

“I think she may have, but every time she met you, she felt the same why I do, that you are such an incredible presence, that she thought it was probably OK if we were having sex.”

“Oh wow! Err, I think I need to tell her that you rejected my approaches ... I don’t want her to think we’ve had sex, especially as she now knows I’m your daughter.”

“Thank you, Poppy, but I made it clear we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Still, I’d like to see her,”

“You can come round tomorrow if you like...”

They were interrupted by running feet, as Cassie skidded into the kitchen, “is it true that Poppy is Wonder Woman?” She gasped, “we’re watching a cartoon, and Belle told me that you are really Wonder Woman.”

“How can Poppy be Wonder Woman,” Jeremy replied, “because I’m her dad, and we know Wonder Woman’s parents are Hippolyta and Zeus.”

Poppy, impressed with Jeremy’s pop-culture knowledge, added, “and I don’t even have a lasso of truth, which would be handy when I need to find out who ate all the ice cream.”

Cassie ran back into the lounge, “Belle does have a point though,” Jeremy said, “there is something special about you. After all you went through, you should look like Nikki, twice your age with leathery, mottled skin, not some kind of supermodel.”

“We were talking about this the other week,” Lia continued, “Belle said Poppy beat up a shopkeeper who was raping Flower, and she got a tooth stuck in her knuckle.”

“Ahh yes, Pete at Premier Stores. That was nasty, you left him in a real mess. I took you to the walk-in clinic because I was worried your hand would become infected. Show me your hands, Poppy.”

Silently, Poppy showed Jeremy her hands, palms down so he could see her knuckles, “not a blemish, it’s amazing how you heal. What about that stab wound?”

“You mentioned this before,” Jenny broke in, “when were you stabbed?”

“It was this guy who felt that as he came before he even entered me, he shouldn’t pay, so I kicked him in the balls, feeling that if he wasn’t paying with money, he should pay with ruined nads. He came looking for me when he could walk again and stabbed me in the side. I managed to punch him in the throat before I collapsed, then once again, Jeremy saved my life.”

“Yeah, I really did that time, because they needed blood, and by coincidence, mine’s a match.”

“I have your blood?”

“Yeah, and if you were ever wondering, that prick didn’t make it.”

“I killed him!”

“Yep, someone as strong as you punching a guy in the throat, it’s only going to end one way...”

“So Mikey wasn’t my first...”

“Nope, or the second, but we’ll leave it at that.”

“Shit ... it was self-defence though, he stabbed me.”

“He did, and if we’d involved the police, that’s absolutely the way it would have looked.”

“Can we rewind a bit,” Jenny asked.

“Err, where to,” Poppy asked warily, “because I’m not talking about killing people again.”

“No, I’m more concerned about a hospital not having Poppy’s blood type.”

“We weren’t in a hospital; I took her to the shelter on Greek St.”

“And they have equipment to perform blood transfusions?”

“Not really, but they have all kinds of emergency medical supplies, so they could syphon off some of my blood and give it to Poppy. I’d have given her a kidney if we had to, and it nearly came to that, it was a very deep wound.”

“There’s no mark,” Poppy told Jeremy quietly, “all the bruises and burns, they’re gone. We thought it was Nita’s ointments that did it, but then I remembered the stabbing, and it’s gone.”

“I suggest you keep quiet about it, because I’d dread to think what kind of a field day the doctors would have if they started checking up on you.”

“Yes, I’m telling no-one.”

“Anyway, in other news, you are in Poppy’s book,” Lia said brightly to change the mood.

“I’ve read every word, so has Sherry. I’m not mentioned once.”

“Show him Katie.”

Katie slid a copy of Poppy’s book onto the table, it was open at the photo of Jeremy.

“There you are...” Poppy smiled, “with Jewel we think.”

“Bloody hell, who took this?”

“Daisy.”

“Wow, it’s a good photograph, I like the composition. That’s not Jewel though, it’s a boy called Dustin. He was very vulnerable, we tried our best to save him, but sometimes your best isn’t enough for some people.”

“Ahh, he died?”

“Yes, fell from the top of a multi-story car park. His friends swear someone pushed him, but with the best will in the world, I think they’re just trying to protect his memory.”

“I don’t think I remember a boy called Dustin,” Poppy replied.

“He lived off Brewer Street.”

“Ahh, that’s where we found Evie.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I spent a few nights there, maybe I did know him.”

Katie sensed Poppy needed a pick me up, so she flipped on a couple of pages and pointed at Poppy’s photo, “look!”

Jeremy peered closely at the page and smiled, “ahh, that’s my girl. With Jewel?”

“Yes, on Archer Street. Also taken by Daisy, the little sneak,” Poppy replied, but she was smiling.

“We like how she’s in the same pose as you, Jeremy, like she learned from the best.”

“I did,” Poppy whispered, touching Jeremy’s hand, “the very best.”

On the first day back at school in the New Year, the head organised a whole school assembly, even inviting Lia so all four girls could talk to the school about their honours, and iron over a few misconceptions about Poppy that had arisen from some girls just reading highlights of their book, and when Poppy told the school about those three days, the other girls realised the horrors she suffered were even worse than they’d imagined.

“Imagine if you told them the whole truth,” Lia whispered, “they’d all faint.”

“I couldn’t possibly. I feel bad enough telling the small part I just did. It’s like talking to a room full of Katies, they’ve never been exposed to the shit we have.”

Whilst Poppy didn’t have as many friends in school as Belle and Katie, she’d sensed the few she’d made had been avoiding her since her book came out. She’d spoken to Helen about it and the feeling was that maybe they’d latched onto the sex-worker aspect of her life and hadn’t wanted to be seen associating with someone who was basically a prostitute. Belle, however, emerged from the book intact, literally, so she’d found new friends amongst girls curious about her life on the streets and in squats.

This is why Helen had urged Poppy to come, mostly clean and tell the girls who’d missed the parts of the book that detailed the abuse she suffered, what happens to pretty girls who fall into the clutches of evil men.

After the assembly, Poppy found some of those girls were avoiding her less. They’d say hello, ask how she was, how it felt to win an OBE; and the braver ones approached the subject of rape, and talked about some of the poor behaviour they’d experienced.

The latter wasn’t something Poppy expected, and she found herself sitting down with girls as they talked about borderline or actual rape from boyfriends, cousins, brothers. Whilst none of this came close to the abuse she’d suffered, she was horrified about it nonetheless, due to its unexpected nature. These were nice girls, from nice families, with nice boyfriends, yet they experienced behaviour on a par with the behaviour Poppy had seen on the streets.

After she’d spoken to a fifth girl that morning, she phoned Helen.

“Hey Poppy, how did the assembly go?”

“Well, I’m not going to say great, because it really wasn’t great telling a room full of girls like Katie just how shit life can treat you.”

“Ahh yes, but was it well received?”

“I think so, and that’s why I’m calling. During break and between lessons, I’ve had five girls come to me and tell me about how it’s brought to mind the behaviour of their boyfriends, cousins, even brothers, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Gosh, I didn’t expect that. Of course there’ll be girls who’ve had poor experiences, but five talking to you like that suggests there’s many more who don’t have the courage to speak up. OK, here’s what we do, find the five girls who’ve spoken to you, and tell them you’ve heard there’s going to a talk about sexual abuse soon, tell the same to any other girls who approach you. I’ll speak to the Head this afternoon and book a day as soon as I can. I’ll do some lessons and role play. We need to make sure everyone knows that kind of behaviour isn’t OK. Maybe Lia can join in, give some basic self-defence advice, but not the part where she kicked a guy so hard he lost a testicle.”

“What!” Poppy cried.

“Ahh, she’s not mentioned that to you, forget I mentioned it.”

“I’ll try, but I’m really intrigued now.”

“Well, just make sure she doesn’t talk about it in front of Katie and Belle, because it’s grim. Anyway, I need to get some ideas down, then talk to the Head ... thanks for calling Poppy, this is an important subject I’ve overlooked.”

And with that, Helen cut the call, and Poppy went in search of the girls she’d spoken to.

Erma called around in early January.

“Have you been given a date?” she asked as she settled down with a glass of sherry.

“A date?” Poppy asked.

“For your investiture.”

Poppy looked blank, she had no idea what Erma was talking about.

“When are you getting your OBE?”

“Ahh! Sorry, I’m a bit thick today,” Poppy apologised, “26^th March at Buckingham Palace.”

“Excellent, now I have a time frame for your outfits.”

“Outfits? We have lots of clothes.”

“You do, but you’re going to be presented to the king, my dear, so nothing you have upstairs is suitable, except perhaps for the suit Belle wore to see Marina. She was quite taken with that suit, so we shall make Belle a new shirt and tie, and get the suit cleaned and pressed.”

“I don’t want to put you out Erma...”

“Oh gosh, you’re not putting me out. I always like to make a fuss when one of my ladies is being honoured, and when I have four in one year, oh my, I can’t have you being overshadowed by others on the day, that is just not going to happen.”

“Lia has some great dresses, they used to belong to Alex’s ex, they fit her even better that they fit Tammy.”

“Mmm, I’ve seen some of those dresses when Tammy wore them, they’re very nice, but maybe a little too revealing when Lia wears them. No, I shall make you all some new dresses.”

Finishing her sherry quickly, she stood and headed for the door, “I will send someone tomorrow evening to take all your measurements, and that includes you, Jenny, you’re getting a new dress as well.”

“Looks like you’re missing out on a new dress, dad,” Lia laughed after letting Erma out.

“I’m sure one of Tammy’s won’t be too revealing on you,” Katie added.

A fortnight before the investiture, the family visited Erma’s shop. She took them into a workroom upstairs, where they were shown six dress bags in a line along the wall.

“I think Lia first,” Erma said, as an assistant took the first dress bag down and led her into a side room.

Five minutes later, Lia reappeared wearing a green, belted shift dress. The wide, purple belt pulled the dress in perfectly, highlighting Lia’s curves without being vulgar.

As Lia posed, Erma dashed around her with pins, taking the dress in slightly to make it even more form-fitting.

“Katie next,” Erma said after Lia returned in her own clothes.

“Did I look OK,” Lia asked Poppy.

“Belle hasn’t recovered yet, so I think you looked just fine,” Poppy replied.

“The poor love, I hope she isn’t left until last.”

“You’re next, Poppy, then Belle. Jenny and Alex are last.”

A moment later, Katie returned, wearing a purple crushed velvet dress, this dress being a little more fitted than Lia’s, as she lacked Lia’s curves.

“Oh gosh, she looks so pretty,” Belle whispered.

“She really does,” Lia replied as Erma did her thing with the pins again.

“Is it difficult to remove the dress with the pins?” Poppy asked Lia.

“You just stand there, and Alice undresses you, if you move, you get told off.”

“Poppy, your turn,” Erma said, handing her a dress carrier.

The room was stunned to silence as Poppy reappeared, she looked amazing in a what amounted to quite a simple dress with a very busy print.

“I’m quite proud of this one,” Erma said as Poppy turned to show off dress, the skirt flew up as she turned quickly, “one of my assistants found the poppy print silk in Covent Garden and I just had to buy it.”

The dress was cut looser than Lia’s but pulled in tightly below her bust. The high neck stopped the dress being tacky. The poppy print was a triumph.

Belle was next, and they soon found out why she had to go after Poppy.

“Protocol requires gentlemen to wear a lounge suit,” Erma told them while Belle changed, “and by rights, a lounge suit should have striped trousers and a waistcoat. So, I’ve made Belle a new pair of trousers, and a waistcoat, I think you’ll like what I’ve done.”

“Oh my god,” Poppy exclaimed as Belle emerged from the changing room, “she looks perfect,” she added, searching for a tissue.

Indeed, Belle did look perfect. The new waistcoat stopped just below Belle’s small breasts and did a wonderful job highlighting them.

“Her tie! It’s the same fabric as your dress,” Katie cried, “that’s an amazing touch Erma.”

“And I’ve got a matching hankie in my top pocket. Alice said I’m not to use it, but I can offer it to a lady in need of one.”

“That’ll be me,” Poppy laughed, “I won’t be able to look at you for long without crying.”

Jenny’s dress was made from a plain grey fabric, it was cut similar to Poppy’s, so her skirt was loose, but the bodice was more fitted across her chest, and like Poppy’s it enhanced her figure without looking tasteless.

“We wanted you to be like a bride’s mother, you should look good, but you mustn’t overshadow the bride.”

“You’ve done a fantastic job Erma, mum looks amazing,” Katie responded.

“What’s Helen wearing?” Lia asked as Alex disappeared with his new outfit.

“Oh, I didn’t think of Helen,” Erma replied.

“She’s got loads of clothes, and if she hasn’t got something suitable, she can look through my wardrobe,” Poppy said.

“There were her clothes to begin with,” Lia cried.

“Exactly, so we know they’ll fit.”

“Still, if she wants something special, tell her to give me a call, I’ll be able to find her a suitable dress.”

Alex looked very happy when he emerged from the fitting room, “this is amazing,” he exclaimed, “I’ve never had a made-to-measure shirt before, it fits me perfectly.”

“And you have the same tie and hankie as Belle,” Lia added.

“Oh yes!” Belle said, “you can’t use it yourself, but you can offer it to Jenny if she cries.”

“I’m sure I will, it’s going to be wonderful watching you all look so beautiful.”

“You’ll look just as beautiful,” Lia told her.

After Alex had changed back, Erma told them she’d make all the alterations during the week, “you can collect them the weekend before your investiture.”

When the big day arrived, Belle was up first, managing her nerves by cooking a full breakfast for everybody, sausage, bacon, eggs, mushrooms and beans.

The girls wolfed down their breakfast then ran back upstairs, leaving Alex to stack the dishwasher.

Their allotted time was 10:30, so they had to be at Buckingham Palace by 10:00. Sally had arranged a limo, which was collecting them at 9:00.

After a very quick shower, the girls did each other’s hair and makeup before they dressed carefully in their new, bespoke outfits.

Lia, Poppy and Katie found tasteful jewellery in their dress bags; necklaces, earrings and broaches carefully chosen by Erma to match and enhance their outfits.

Katie was fastening Belle’s hair into buns and Lia was tying her tie in a perfect Windsor knot as Alex checked in on them.

“Oh wow, you all look so special.”

“But do we look suitable to meet the King?” Poppy asked.

“Of course you do. I’m pretty sure you’ll be the only people there today wearing dresses made by someone who also made dresses for his mother.”

“Mmm, that’s true,” Lia replied as she pulled Belle’s tie straight and fastened her waistcoat.

Sally didn’t let us down, Belle gasped as Joey pulled up in a gleaming stretched Bentley Flying Spur, just as the church clock struck nine.

“Oh wow!” Belle cried as she ran to the car, “can I sit in front?” she asked, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course you can,” Joey replied, “Sally thought you’d want to, so I’ve already adjusted the seat and seatbelt.”

The rest of the family piled into the two rows of seating, Poppy commenting on how smart Joey looked in his suit and chauffers’ cap.

“Sally insisted I wear something smart, so I’ve borrowed this suit from a mate who drives for The Dorchester.”

Joey pulled away smoothly and made his way carefully through the morning traffic.

“How’s life now you’re living with Sally,” Lia asked as we waited at the traffic lights at the Wandsworth Roundabout.

“It’s great, so much better than sharing a flat with Damon and Alex.”

“You smell better now!”

“Thanks Belle,” Joey laughed as the lights changed and the big car purred smoothly over the roundabout and onto the A3205 towards Central London.

“So, you’re happy?” Poppy asked.

“I’m very happy, and I’ve got you all to thank for it. We’ve both got a long weekend off soon, we’re going to stay with Sally’s aunt in Edinburgh. I’m so excited, I’ve never been out of London before.”

“Really? You’ve never been on holiday anywhere?”

“Well, I’ve been to Margate with my mates, and Southend, but that’s not really going out of London, is it.”

“No, it’s not.” Poppy replied, “I’d not been out of London until we went to see Amy in the Lake District, then she had her friend Geoff fly us home on his jet, which was amazing!”

“She has a friend with a jet?” Joey asked, not unreasonably.

“Oh yes, she’s got her own helicopter, but we didn’t see it,” Belle replied, “she’s got loads of cars, a McLaren, a Range Rover, a Mini, a Jaguar, a Bentley, so many more I’ve forgotten.”

“Ahh, this would be the Amy who bought the Bugatti for the weekend at the auction.”

“Yes!” Belle answered, “did you meet her?”

“I did, I even touched the Bugatti.”

“Isn’t she gorgeous? Oh man, did you drive the Bugatti?”

“Yes, she’s gorgeous, and no, I didn’t drive the Bugatti. It’s a car we hire via an agency when people want it, so the agency delivered it to us and handed it over to Amy. I opened the door for her...”

“Doesn’t she smell amazing?”

“Mmm, yes she does,” Joey laughed.

“I’m leaving the car at The Dorchester,” Joey told them as he dropped them off outside the Palace visitors’ gate, “so call me when you’re ready and I’ll come and pick you up.”

“With the traffic round here, you might not even reach The Dorchester by the time we’re finished,” Alex said.

“Then I’ll just turn round and come back,” Joey replied as he pulled away and down Constitutional Hill towards The Dorchester.

An attendant met them at the gate and ushered the family inside the palace and deposited them in a large room set out with several rows of fancy chairs. It looked a lot like a posh wedding chapel, but none of the girls, even Belle, dared to say it.

The girls wandered around the room, looking at the paintings, marvelling at the gold-leaf adorned plasterwork on the walls and ceiling, surreptitiously touching the heavyweight curtains.

“Do you think Amy has enough money to buy Buckingham Palace if she wanted to,” Belle asked.

“I don’t think it’s up for sale,” Poppy replied.

“But if it was, how much do you think it would cost?”

“I have no idea, like, I don’t even know how much our house is worth,” Poppy told her.

“Oh, I know that, because I asked Alex. £5 million he said, but I don’t really know how much that is. Like, I’ve got over £500,000 in my bank from mum and dad’s will, but I don’t know how much that is either, because it’s too big a number for me to imagine.”

“I know what you mean, some of the numbers Lia mentions when we’re talking about the charity’s funding make my head spin. I have no idea how I passed my GCSE Maths.”

Helen and Nita rushed in just before 10:30, apologising that they’d had to change trains twice due to faults on the underground.

“You should have booked a car like we did,” Belle told Helen, “we came in a Bentley!”

“Very nice,” Helen smiled, “I’ll make sure I remember that the next time we come to the palace.”

“Probably next year when Poppy gets her Damehood,” Belle replied, sounding 100% certain it would happen.

“Probably,” Helen agreed as an elegantly dressed woman entered the room and stood behind a lectern on a small stage.

“If you would like to take your seats, I will tell you all what is about to happen.”

The woman paused for a moment or two whilst everyone found their seats, which had been pre-allocated and identified with small name cards.

Once all were seated, the woman detailed the morning’s programme, Poppy and Belle tuned out, hoping Jenny or Alex were listening.

Belle started to fidget, a sure sign she was nervous, which was unusual, as Belle was rarely nervous about anything.

“What’s the matter?” Poppy whispered.

“I’m worried I might say something inappropriate. I’m nervous and I say silly things when I’m nervous.”

Lia leant across Poppy, “just smile and agree with whatever the King says. If he asks you a question, think first, then answer it honestly. The lady just said we’ll have one or two minutes with the King, so he’s hardly going to grill you. Relax, everything will be fine.”

After the lady had finished speaking, they sang the National Anthem. The girls giggled quietly as the couple behind them kept accidentally singing Queen instead of King.

Once the anthem was finished, the people receiving honours were called up one by one, front row first. As their names were called, they filed into a room to the right, their guests were led to a different room, to meet up afterwards.

“Poppy Francheska Harrison...”

“Oh, that’s me,” Poppy whispered, “I guess it’s my turn,” she added as she stood and collected her small handbag.

Poppy stepped forward and into the next room, where she got her first look at King Charles, he was standing on a small platform in the middle of a room with a lot of red carpet and gold fittings.

“Do I have to curtsey,” she whispered to the attendant.

“No dear, just stand in front of him and he’ll pin your award to your dress.”

Taking a deep breath, Poppy stepped into the room and stopped before the King.

“Ahh, Poppy, what a splendid dress.”

“Thank you, our friend Erma made it special, she liked the poppy fabric, it’s silk.”

“Ahh, Erma, yes, she made some outfits for mummy. My wife and Catherine are very interested in your work, they’ve both read your book,” The King added, as he leant forwards slightly and pinned Poppy’s medal to her dress, “they’re both very interested in talking to you.”

“To me!” Poppy replied, looking down at the gold medal and red ribbon on her chest.

“Yes, to you and your sisters, if you are available.”

“I think I can make space in my diary,” Poppy laughed, then wondered if she’d made a terrible faux pas.

“Good, good,” The King replied as an attendant emerged and directed Poppy to the next room, where she was met by a uniformed secretary holding an iPad.

“Ahh, Ms Harrison, Queen Camilla and the Princess of Wales would very much like to talk to you about your work. Are you available this afternoon?”

“This afternoon? Oh, err ... can we wait until my mum and dad get here, I don’t know if they’ve planned anything...”

“Of course. They’ll be through presently,” the secretary replied, stepping away so as to not interfere with the family’s joy upon receiving their honours.

Lia arrived next, “what did he say to you?” she asked Poppy.

“He loved my dress, then he says Queen Camilla and Catherine want to speak to us.”

“Seriously!” Lia exclaimed.

“Yes, but don’t tell Belle yet, I want to hear everything she has to say about meeting the King.”

“That’s why you’re so special Poppy, you put Belle before the Queen.”

“That’s as it should be,” Poppy replied as Belle dashed into the room.

“He loved my tie,” Belle cried, “then he loved it even more when I told him it was made from your dress.”

“What else did he say to you?”

“He asked me how I learnt how to cook, I told him it was from watching my mum when I was little, then I said Mr Newbold helped me scale recipes up.”

“He asked me about the gala at the Savoy,” Lia joined in, “he said it sounded enjoyable and wished he was there.”

“Not wishing to say anything bad about the King,” Poppy replied, “but I’m not sure it would have been quite as much fun with him and his security around.”

“Mmm, that’s probably right,” Lia agreed as Katie appeared by her side, “oh, Katie, don’t you look great with your medal.”