‘I shan’t pack too much, else the children won’t want their dinner tonight,’ Mrs Rose had told Sunday firmly.

The children tucked into the treats, their appetites sharpened by the romp in the fresh air, and it was then that two people emerged from the trees. Sunday didn’t take too much notice of them, since it just looked like a mother and her small daughter, but as they drew closer she realised with a start that it was Maggie with her nanny.

Kitty spotted her friend at the same moment and before anyone could stop her she had scampered across to them to say hello.

‘Tom, look – it’s Maggie,’ Sunday hissed.

Kitty had reached them by then and Sunday could see her chatting animatedly.

‘So it is.’ Tom rose from the blanket and brushed the crumbs from his trousers before strolling casually across to join them, with Sunday in hot pursuit.

‘Good afternoon, Maggie. Good afternoon, er …’

‘It’s Blake. Miss Blake,’ the poker-faced woman informed him. ‘I am Margaret’s nanny.’

‘How do you do.’ Tom held his hand out and the woman had no choice but to shake it without appearing to be very rude.

‘I’m very well, thank you,’ she replied stiffly, and Sunday and Tom then turned their attention to Maggie, who was standing quite still at the side of her.

‘So how are you, pet?’ Tom asked with a warm smile.

‘She’s very well,’ the woman answered for her as Maggie kept her eyes downcast.

‘Well, if you’d like to come over there to the blanket, there are some biscuits left and some of Mrs Rose’s special lemonade. You always liked that, didn’t you?’

‘Thank you, but Margaret will be having her evening meal when we get back and she is not permitted to eat between meals.’

Again, the woman spoke for her and Tom began to wonder if Maggie had lost her tongue. Now he could see what Sunday had meant the last time she had bumped into her in town. Maggie had indeed lost quite a lot of weight; in fact, she looked rather thin now although he noted she glanced longingly towards the picnic basket. Maggie had always loved her food.

‘It’s time we were heading for home now,’ the nanny stated and without a word Maggie nodded.

Tom was shocked. At one time, Maggie would have screamed blue murder if asked to do anything she didn’t want to do. But now she stood like a little shadow of her former self. Like Sunday, he thought it was almost as if she’d had the spirit knocked out of her. She was immaculately dressed though and spotlessly clean. Too clean, Tom found himself thinking. She looked like a little doll. For the first time, he wondered if he and Sunday had done right, allowing her to go and live with Mr and Mrs Dawes, but he wouldn’t admit that to his wife. She was worried enough about the little girl as it was.