‘You will stay here and eat the whole meal again and you will not leave until you have done so.’

Kate watched the woman turn and leave the room. The door closed behind her.

Left alone, without Miss Denham’s critical gaze upon her every mouthful, strangely Kate found she could eat – at least the first course – but when another dish of gooseberries came, she hesitated. She picked up her spoon and ate one. The gooseberry itself was just as sour as before but now the juice in which the fruit lay was sweet – much sweeter than before. Someone had realized what was happening and had taken pity on her. Kate felt a warm gratitude towards the unknown person beyond the kitchen door.

When Miss Denham returned, Kate was sitting with two empty plates in front of her.

The woman stood over her. ‘There, you see, you can eat it when you try.’

Kate stared back at the woman, deliberately keeping her face expressionless. When dismissed, the young girl stood up and, holding her head high, walked out of the room. There was no way she could win against the authority of this horrible woman, but Kate Hilton was certainly not going to be cowed by her.

But oh, how she longed to be back home running along the beach with Danny panting after her shouting, ‘Wait for me, Katie, wait for me!’ or to feel the chubby arms of little Rosie Maine winding themselves around her neck and hear her merry voice pleading, ‘Come and play with me, Kate.’

Before returning to her classroom Kate went up to the dormitory and felt in the pocket of her coat for the whelk shell, standing several minutes with it pressed against her ear so that even in this dismal, lonely room she might still hear the sound of home.

On the third Sunday, Peggy Godfrey arrived at the school to take Kate out for the afternoon.

Two whole hours of freedom, thought Kate ecstatically. It was her first escape from what she thought of as her prison.

They walked down the hill and along a straight road past a park on the left-hand side until they came to a side street where Mr and Mrs Godfrey lived at number eight. The houses were terraced, with a small frontage outside the bay window and front door. A passage ran between every second house leading to both back yards.

‘Kate, how lovely to see you.’ Jonathan’s mother was smiling a welcome as she opened the front door and Kate found herself stepping straight into the best parlour.

‘Come through to the living room, dear. Take no notice of all this.’ She laughed and waved her hand to encompass the front room. Kate glanced around as she followed Jonathan’s mother. The room was littered with paper patterns and pieces of material. In the centre of the room on a small table stood a sewing machine.