Chapter 1

Barton Lacey, Dorset. England

August 1958

The mournful sound made by the train as it pulled out of Waterloo Station was the saddest sound Shelia had ever heard. She bit her lip, trying hard not to cry as her home in London disappeared into the hazy afternoon sunshine.

Mrs Hicks the foster officer assigned to deliver Shelia to her foster-home was a big woman. The buttons on her blouse in were in danger of flying off as her large bosom heaved with each sigh she made throughout the long journey. But eventually the train pulled into the station at Barton Lacy.

“So here were are then Shelia, I’ll take your case; you make sure you leave nothing on the train my dear.” said Mrs Hicks leading the way onto the platform.

Shelia felt scared but held out her chin and said a prayer as Mrs Hicks lead her to an imposing yet tight-lipped lady there to receive them. Mrs Hicks introduced herself and as they chatted Shelia took in the lady’s stylish outfit. From the high-heeled brown and cream shoes up to the jaunty brown velour hat, spiked with a long feather; she looked a movie star. Indeed the face beneath the hat could have been that of the female actress yet somehow it was neither charming nor kind. Shelia’s heart skipped a beat as the woman’s hazel eye’s had scrutinised her own and although Shelia had tried to raise a smile the woman looked away with indifference. Mrs Hicks turned to her now asking, “How old are you now Shelia?” “I was fourteen last month Mrs Hicks.” “Have you started your period’s yet dear?” Shelia’s face blushed. “Yes Mrs Hicks.”

Mrs Hicks took her by the shoulder saying, “Now Shelia your a very lucky girl to be taken in by Mrs Marina Carroll your benefactor here so what do you say to her?” “I’m very grateful miss.” The lady gave a slight nod. “That’s right Shelia and always be on your best behaviour at Squires Lodge.” “Yes Mrs Hicks.”

Marina Carroll now address Shelia, “Follow me to the car would you child.” She turned and with her heels tapping the concourse and hat-feather bouncing, it seemingly beckoned Shelia to a waiting grey limousine. Following obediently she shied as the chauffeur leaped forward to open the door. “Please don’t loiter; get into the Bentley.” Marina Carroll softly scorned.

The unfamiliar smell of leather combined with her gnawing hunger made her feel faint as she huddled into a corner and closed her eyes on it all.

“Go strait home Jackson.” Mrs Carroll ordered. The car soon picked up speed upon leaving the village and Shelia now looked out at the passing countryside. “Your very quiet for a teenager,” said Mrs Carroll as she lit-up a cigarette she had fixed into a green onyx holder. She inhaled with obvious pleasure and exhaled slowly as she replaced the gold cigarette case and lighter into her bag.

“Well” Mrs Carroll shot her a sideways glance. “Have you lost your tongue girl?” “No miss, I’m just a bit nervous miss.” “Your a bit small for your age, and you should call me Ma’am not Miss.”

“Yes mi – ma’am.”

Mrs Carroll continued to smoke in silence, occasional tapping the ash into a secluded ashtray.

Remembering it was rude to stare Shelia gazed at the passing hedgerows and fields of ripe corn that were spiked with scarlet poppies and blue corn-flowers. She had read about the countryside and even seen the flat fields of Essex; from the train window on a family holiday to Southend but these rolling hills of Dorset were so beautiful. Later they sped passed a field of cows grazing on rich green grass. Eventually though the car slowed and turned into the entrance of Squires Lodge.

Lowering the passenger windows, Jackson then drove the Bentley sedately along the tree-line drive. It so impressed Shelia she forgot her shyness, “ This is just like the botanical gardens in London ma’am!” “Oh really.” replied Mrs Carroll sarcastically.

Shelia smiled at having got a response from the movie queen. She spotted a small lake with an island in the middle and marble statue thing on a gentle slope. It was all so trim and green and posh! But Jackson bought the car to a sudden halt. A clatter of hooves came with the appearance of a horse alongside Shelia by the open window.

A loud snort came from the horse as its eyes rolled and nostrils flared causing Shelia to scream in terror thinking the animal was about to bite her. She covered her eyes and screamed again. “Good grief, who have you there mother?” The strong voice came from a well-spoken young man although Shelia did not dare look up.

“Guy! This is not the wild west. Get that beast away from the Bentley before it does some damage.” Marina screeched. Guy chortled, “Why mother! you’ve kid-napped a girl! I thought you hated children!”

Shelia, having risen before dawn to leave home; having eaten next to nothing through a day’s travel, simply fainted in the car.

Closing the door of the night nursery where Shelia was now peacefully sleeping Guy made his way down to speak with Mrs Toon in the kitchen. “Let the girl sleep an hour or so before taking her some supper Mrs Toon. The tumbler of water I made her drink made all the difference and I laced it with a mild sedative. She was mostly dehydrated and exhausted.”