Her senses were reeling as she focused on the woman behind the desk. One thing was clear: she wouldn’t be coming back here, and that was upsetting. The thought of leaving her friends … She fought back the emotion that was trying to burst out, along with a torrent of questions. Now she was sixteen she’d known that she would have to leave soon and maybe go to a finishing school. Her mother was extremely old-fashioned in her outlook. But not walk out like this – not like this! ‘May I have the time to see my friends?’

‘You must leave immediately. You may write to them. Goodbye, Miss Winford.’ The dismissal was abrupt, as if the head wanted to be rid of this unpleasant task.

‘Goodbye.’ Eugenie’s voice shook and she left the room quickly, before she made a fool of herself. Self-control was a prized quality in this school and much encouraged. She closed the solid oak door behind her and ran. Tears clouded her vision, but she didn’t need to see where she was going: she’d attended this school for the last five years and knew every inch of the building. Although she’d wanted to go home for a visit, leaving Templeton was not something she’d thought of doing for a while yet. The regime was strict, but she had been happy here. A gulping sob escaped as she ran. What was going on?

After packing a few necessities, she hurried to the waiting car.

‘Ah, there you are, miss.’ Without smiling Edwards took her bag and held open the rear door of the car. When she scrambled in, he closed it and put her bag in the boot. The trunk, her father always called it in his lovely American accent. Had her father come home unexpectedly and sent for her? But no, he’d have come for her himself if that had been the case. Her insides were turning somersaults with anxiety.

Edwards got in, started the car and drove slowly down the long oak-lined drive. Her throat closed with distress as she swivelled round and gazed at the beautiful limestone mansion until it disappeared from sight.

‘What’s happened?’ she asked the silent driver, turning round to face the back of his head as they left the school gates. He was usually quite talkative, but today he’d hardly uttered a word.

‘Can’t say, miss.’ He closed the glass partition, making further conversation impossible.