After the press conference, the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses stopped off at Highton Mill to pick up some supplies. While Cecelia paid a visit to the butcher, Alice-Miranda and her father sat in the car, completely lost in their own thoughts. Hugh couldn’t remember ever having felt so utterly helpless, except perhaps the night that his mother had died and his brother disappeared from his life for nearly forty years. Even then, this was not the same. He’d been a tiny boy, just five years of age, and now he was a man, responsible for the livelihoods and wellbeing of tens of thousands of employees. He couldn’t fail them.

Alice-Miranda’s thoughts wandered to Miss Grimm. Millie had called that morning to relay the worrisome news. She hoped that the poor woman was feeling better and made a mental note to call the hospital when she got home. During her musings, Alice-Miranda’s eyes fell upon a young girl trundling a small black suitcase behind her. She was carrying a blue backpack and clutching a toy dog and looked rather upset. Alice-Miranda wondered if she should go and see if she was all right. She was just about to step out of the car when her mother returned.

‘Well, I’m not sure what Dolly’s ordered, but from the weight of it, this piece of meat is big enough to feed an army,’ Cecelia said as she slid into the front passenger seat. She hefted the oversized brown paper bag to a spot by her feet.

‘Mummy,’ Alice-Miranda said, ‘should we see if that girl across the road is all right?’ She pointed out the window.

‘Which girl, darling?’ Cecelia craned her neck to see.

Alice-Miranda looked up and down the street, but there was no sign of the girl or her suitcase. ‘Oh, she’s disappeared.’

Alice-Miranda shook her head. She was sure there had been a girl. In fact, there was something about her that had given Alice-Miranda a strange feeling and now she most likely would never know why.

Francesca Compton-Halls stood in the telephone box with the last of her change. She felt crushed with exhaustion and paused, her hand hovering above the coin slot. It was getting late and Chessie needed to talk to her mother, but she was scared. She took a deep breath and dialled the number, listening to it ring until Jemima finally answered.

‘Hello Mummy,’ Chessie said, mustering as much enthusiasm as she could.

Her mother’s response was terribly confusing. She seemed excited to hear from her yet, when Chessie asked why she had to spend the break with Granny, the reply she got was unexpected, to say the least – particularly after Chessie’s earlier conversation with her grandmother. Her mother explained that Granny had begged to have her and, as Jemima was so busy, it had worked out perfectly. Jemima said she would try to visit Chessie next week when she wasn’t so stressed and frantic with the house. She was in a dreadful rush to get somewhere and would speak to her again later. Chessie thought on her feet, though, and told her mother that Granny’s phone was on the blink again, so they would call her instead.

When she hung up the phone, she felt completely betrayed. She had no idea where she would go, but it was clear that Bedford Manor was definitely not an option. Perhaps the best thing was to go to her grandmother’s house. She had a vague recollection of a spare key hidden inside a cast-iron frog in the garden. She could stay there until school started up again. She retraced her steps to the train station and looked up at the timetable to see when the next train was due.

‘Excuse me,’ Chessie said to a young railway guard. ‘Can you tell me what time the next train to Nibley Green will be coming?’

The lad shook his head. ‘I’m afraid you’ve missed it. The last one came an hour ago. There’s only another train due from the city and then I’m off for the night. There’ll be one through at nine in the morning for Nibley Green, but that’s it for the day, being Sunday and all.’

Chessie gulped and clutched Rodney to her. Where would they sleep? She probably had enough money to go to a hotel, but people would ask questions about a ten-year-old girl on her own. She had to find somewhere else. There were always empty farm buildings on the edge of villages like this. At school they had several and sometimes when girls were upset or wanted to bunk off lessons they’d run away and hide in one of them.

Chessie trundled her bag behind her, her stomach grumbling loudly. She told herself she’d be fine once she got to Granny’s. The woman had enough tinned food to survive a war.

There was a sweet-looking French patisserie, but after a quick peek through the window, Chessie couldn’t see any bread left on the shelves. She would have loved a cupcake, but the man inside looked much too friendly. He might ask her questions she wasn’t prepared for. At the end of the row of shops she found a small general store. A pimply young lad stood behind the counter, flicking through a magazine. He didn’t even look up when she entered. She hurried through the aisles, picking up a loaf of bread, the smallest container of butter she could find and a tiny jar of jam, then walked to the counter. Now all she had to do was find somewhere warm and dry for the night.