HORNIMAN’S DISTINCTIVE TEA

Rich and fragrant

The blend for the connoisseur

Meanwhile, Wigglesworth’s Hair Salon had different illusions of grandeur, with photographs of Loretta Young, Marilyn Monroe and Joan Collins in the window. Finally, the village Post Office, with a bright-red telephone box outside, propped up the end of the row.

William took off his cap and mopped his brow with a large white handkerchief. When he returned to his seat he studied the young stranger keenly. Her looks were striking. Her slim figure, smart two-piece grey suit and dark-brown wavy hair reminded him of the film star Vivien Leigh. A picture of the vivacious Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind came into his mind and he stared after her as she headed purposefully up the High Street towards the village green.

The young woman crossed the road, walked past a white-fronted pub, The Royal Oak, and stepped under the shade of an avenue of recently planted horse chestnut trees. There before her, behind a wall of Yorkshire stone, amber in the flickering sunlight, stood the village school. It was a Victorian building of weathered reddish-brown bricks, with a steeply sloping grey slate roof and a high arched window in the gable end. The sign on the stone pillar next to the gate read ‘Ragley-on-the-Forest Church of England Primary School’.

As she walked up the cobbled drive she glanced up at the bell tower, where two rooks circled and cawed menacingly. She took a deep breath and paused in the entrance porch. Above her head the year 1878 was carved deep into the lintel and the giant oak door creaked on its hinges as she opened it. Opposite her in the dark corridor was a door with a small brass plate that read ‘John T. Pruett, Headmaster’, and she knocked gently.

A bespectacled man just short of his fortieth birthday opened the door. He smoothed his hair and gave a gentle smile as recognition dawned. ‘I’m John Pruett,’ he said, ‘and you’re right on time. Welcome to Ragley.’

The young woman put down her suitcase, carefully removed her gloves and shook hands formally.

‘Good morning, Mr Pruett,’ she said. ‘I’m Lily Briggs, the new teacher.’

Chapter One

First Day for Miss Briggs

It was nine o’clock on Wednesday, 3 September and the bell of Ragley-on-the-Forest Church of England Primary School rang out to announce to everyone in the village that the academic year 1952/53 had begun.