As a child, she had everything that opened and shut, that could be rocked or cradled. But despite all this, she was an unhappy child.
Every photo suggested this was her demeanour. Always there was the scowling child, bottom lip slightly in pouting position as if making sure history recorded her dissatisfaction with her world.
Each day she would be taken from her bed and given breakfast, washed and dressed for the day. Her parents were busy people and they employed a series of nannies to oversee their daughter’s childhood. By a series of nannies, I do mean a series as she was not a pleasant child to be around and most nannies didn’t last very long.
Miss Annie Mangle was one such nanny. A pleasant but firm young lady who came from a working-class family to the north. She could see the child lacked, for one thing, the love…
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