Chapter 4
......From childhood the milestones in my life had been clearly marked and unanimously accepted. Nannies, governesses, boarding school, finishing school, debut and then the unspoken, but nevertheless most firmly accepted course of all marriage, preferably with a member of another Royal House. This would set the seal on the completion, success and fulfilment of all my upbringing.
Useless then to turn to any member of my family, least of all my mother, and ask, simply, why?
To them it would have been more absurd than to ask why the sun rose and set, or why I had been born. If I received any answer at all, it would have been a long and involved treatise on the mystic, symbolic and spiritual duties of kings and their heirs, all of which I knew, and all of which I could have accepted also, had I been a King, or even a Queen. I was neither.
Marriage then eligible marriage had been the career for which I had been trained. That and the “talent” of meeting, mixing with, and understanding my fellow men and women. But, I thought, how could I fully understand them when I was forced always to be a little “set apart” when my fellow men and women were carefully selected to form part of the social and blue blooded cocoon of the Royal world; when even a young man who wanted to " date " me had to call me Ma'am, unless he was one of my Royal cousins.
This was revolutionary thinking, and I dared not discuss it with anyone. With what argument could I defend myself? I could think of none. Had I possessed a “vocation” there had been ample opportunity for me to demonstrate this at school, but I was no scholar.
Nor, I found, did I dislike the idea of “marriage as a career ". On the contrary, I welcomed it. Had I not always longed for a home of my own, and were not aII my day dreams centred on what I would do once I had my own home and my own babies? But I wondered, with all the romantic wistfulness of nineteen, whether my destiny might only bring its happiness if I could fall in love, and gain permission to marry some " ordinary " middle class man who would not want a social life, but who would forever be glad to be at home, just with me and the babies. That, I am afraid, was all that such a marriage meant to me then. I never took into account that there would be no maid, no cook, no nanny, no car if I married my ordinary home loving, working man. Money never entered my scheme of things. I had absolutely no knowledge of money. I had never handled it, never carried a purse, and did not know the actual cost or any single thing. When I wanted to buy something I requested mummie's permission, signed for it, and all the bills were always sent to her. One shadow, which had darkened the lives of several of my aunts and cousins, never, never troubled me. I knew that never would I be persuaded to marry any man with whom I was not completely in love. Mummie, who had known brief but total happiness in her own marriage, and, in contrast, seen the distress which loveless, arranged marriages had brought to others, would never entertain such a union for me. This I knew. “In Royal families there is no such thing as divorce”, was one of her edicts, “therefore there should be no marriage without love”. So firm were both these convictions of hers that she supremely disregarded the unalterable facts that there were divorces in Royal families, especially in our own, since the marriage of her brother in law, King George II of Greece, to Elizabeth of Rumania was dissolved, as also had been that of her sister in law Helen, to King Carol of Rumania. That my uncle Georgic had never re married, and that Aunty Sitta was still the Queen of Rumania made it possible for my mother simply to ignore the facts. She neither mentioned nor acknowledged these divorces. But in the uncertainty of that summer such thoughts and prospects were remote. I was going, to be able to think about working, and as I have said, we were living fretfully in the false peace. On the morning of I0 June, I940, I had been swimming at the Lido, not far from our house, when I noticed everyone crowding to the terrace of the Excelsior Hotel. I sensed urgency and anxiety in this crowd, and in my wet swimming suit I joined it. The Italian radio announcer was warning everyone to stand by for an important announcement. In a few minutes Mussolini was going to speak. His heavy, bull like voice shuddered through the Hotel. He was declaring a state of war between Italy and Britain and France. I noticed two English nannies, oblivious of their charges, weeping bitterly. I went back to the villa to see if mummie had heard the news. I felt shocked, yet curiously relieved, almost exhilarated. Now at last one knew where one was. Now we should be able to do something. But the first evidence of war came in a manner we had not expected. Poor Mac Doodle was arrested by Italian security police and interned. She was now a British “enemy”. Mummie had been planning to return to Paris to collect and store our furniture and most of our personal belongings which we had left there. But now, with poor Mac interned, and news of the German and Italian advance into France, we knew this would be impossible. We could not leave Venice.......
Are you bowring?
All these post are from book FROM A KING'S LOVE
By queen Alexandra of Yugoslavia