Cover

About the Author

Beryl Matthews grew up in a family of avid readers. Amongst other jobs, she has worked at an aircraft factory and as a credit controller.

She published her first book at the age of seventy-one after joining a writers’ group and has since written over twenty novels. Her hobbies include travelling, swimming and golf, but writing is her number one priority.

PENGUIN BOOKS

Riches to Rags

Readers rated Riches to Rags

★★★★★

‘I was hooked from the start and didn’t want it to end’

‘Very gripping with a good ending’

‘I loved this story and I couldn’t put it down’

‘All I can say is brilliant, brilliant and even more brilliant’

‘A fantastic book. I could not put it down. Beryl Matthews is a fantastic author’

‘A super read’

‘I enjoyed every minute of reading this and lost myself in the story’

1

November 1929

It was a beautiful crisp day with hardly a cloud in the sky. Eugenie Elizabeth Winford glanced up from the essay she was attempting to write about her namesake: Eugénie de Montijo, French empress from Spain and the consort of Napoleon III. Worry gnawed at her, destroying her concentration. Why had her parents made her stay here during the entire summer holiday? Surely she could have gone home for a week or two. It had been her sixteenth birthday on 28 August, and her father usually made a point of being home at that time each year, but in July the head, Miss Patterson-Hay, had told her that she was to remain at school. No reason had been given. You were discouraged from asking questions and had to accept what your elders told you. She found the edict frustrating and had the utmost difficulty in holding her tongue. One brief explanation would have saved her weeks of wondering and worry. Even her father’s last letter had been unusually short: all he’d said was that he was very sorry but would come as soon as he could. His business was in America, so she understood that he couldn’t always be here.

Her smile was wistful. Perhaps he would take her to the seaside again. They always had such fun together visiting museums, old houses and churches, walking along country lanes and stopping for tea in quaint village tea rooms.

She gazed out of the window and watched the gold and red leaves floating down to form a colourful carpet beneath the ancient oak trees. The Templeton School for Young Ladies was a lovely place, set in the heart of the Kent countryside. She was happy here, but after weeks spent in this tranquil setting Eugenie found the thought of London exciting, and she longed to see her father again.

‘Miss Winford,’ Miss Staples said sharply, ‘that’s quite enough daydreaming.’