As the train left Somerset behind and puffed and panted busily towards the London terminus on that Saturday morning, Anne gave up on the book she’d been trying to read and gazed out of the window. She was tired but elated, for her Conservative candidate, Victor Collins, had won the Taunton seat despite the fact he was a born and bred London businessman. The past week had been frantic with all the packing up, and on the night of the election she’d been kept for hours in Taunton for the count and then the jubilant party that followed, and hadn’t arrived home until well after midnight.

The final result of the election wouldn’t be in until 26th of July to accommodate the time it would take for the votes to come in from the far-flung constituencies in Scotland, but from what she’d gleaned at the party, and during the two following days, it sounded as if Labour was making huge inroads into the Conservative heartlands, which was bitterly disappointing and to her mind a rather shocking betrayal of Churchill.

Anne’s thoughts turned to the last sad moments she and the children had spent on Owlet Farm. Charlie had disappeared into the machine shed, only to emerge at the very last minute to give Vi a brief hug and shoot a glower of fury at Bob who’d shoved him into the Land Rover with little ceremony. Rose and Emily were too young to really understand what was happening, but Anne had found saying goodbye to Vi very painful and the tears had flowed on both sides, for Vi had been mother and grandmother to them for almost six years, and it was an awful wrench to leave her behind.

They’d wished Claus well on his forthcoming wedding, and there had been more tears when Anne had said her final farewell to George, Belinda and the dear little schoolhouse earlier that morning. Just thinking about it made Anne sad, for she’d come to love the farm, the village and its people, and knew she would hold the memory of it all in her heart for many years to come.

She took a steadying breath, for enough tears had been shed today and she was on her way home to Cliffehaven, her mother and Martin, and must prepare herself for whatever awaited her there.

Having telephoned Peggy the previous evening to tell her the time her train would get in, she’d asked to speak to Martin. But it seemed he was out with Roger somewhere and her mother had no idea when he’d return. Peggy had assured her that he knew she was coming home, and would no doubt be at the station to welcome them all.