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 Millwall, London disappeared into the hazy afternoon sunshine. Mrs Hicks the foster officer assigned to deliver Shelia to her new 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; located in Dorset.

“So here we 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 out of the station up to an imposing tight-lipped lady, there to receive them.

Mrs Hicks introduced herself, and as they chatted Shelia took in the important 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 like 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 eyes 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.”

“And have you started your periods yet dear?”

Shelia’s face blushed. “Yes Mrs Hicks.”

Mrs Hicks took her by the shoulder saying, “Now Shelia you’re a very lucky girl to be taken in by Lady Marina Carroll, your benefactor here so what do you want to say to her dear?”

“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 child! ... 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 straight home please Jackson.” Mrs Carroll ordered.

The car soon picked up speed upon leaving the village and Shelia now looked out with a vivid interest at the passing countryside. It was another land for her after the urban jungle that was London.