Paddington Station, London Summer 1940
The station smelt strongly of smoke which billowed out of the train funnels in little puffs of cloud, very much like the ones Annie used to watch in the park. But, Annie thought, it was far more fun at the park because Mummy and Daddy and Jack were all there too and they used to point out the clouds that looked like animals or buildings or people. One time Annie had pointed out a cloud that looked like an angel with a long dress and halo. Daddy had laughed and said softly, "That isn't what an angel looks like. An angel doesn't always have to have wings- just a big heart."
"Keep up, Annie!" A voice snapped irritably whilst roughly grabbing her hand, "And stop daydreaming."
It was Mrs. Moore, a miserable widow who lived down their road, who was looking after Annie until Daddy got home from fighting the bad boys. Annie hated her because she had a mean, old face that was shrivelled like a dried prune. Mrs. Moore was definitely not an angel.
"Where are we going?" Annie quizzed, squirming under the tight grasp of Mrs. Moore's boney hand.
"I've told you a thousand times, Annie!" She replied angrily through gritted teeth.
"I don't remember."
"No, you just didn't listen."
"I'm listening now."
Mrs. Moore gave a loud, dramatic sigh and halted in the middle of station.
"You're going to countryside. A little village named Froggatt, I believe."
"Froggatt." Annie whispered to herself. She liked the way it sounded like it was out of one of her storybooks. It sounded magical and wonderful and so very much nicer than London was.
"Come along, we need to get to Platform 3 before the train departs."
