A Change of Fortune

Beryl Matthews

A CHANGE OF FORTUNE

Table of Contents

Dear Reader

A Change of Fortune

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A CHANGE OF FORTUNE

Beryl Matthews was born in Putney, London, but before the start of the Second World War her family moved to the outskirts of London. She stayed at home during the Blitz and her education was continually interrupted by air raids. The war was drawing to a close when she started work in an inspection office in the middle of a large hangar where they were still building Spitfires as fast as they could make them. She continued working in offices and over the years progressed from tea girl to accounts clerk to credit controller. After she retired Beryl began to pursue her dream of becoming a published author. In September 2002 Penguin published
The Open Door
, the first part in a family trilogy spanning the twentieth century. It was the bestselling book in W. H. Smith’s prestigious Fresh Talent promotion. Billy Hopkins, author of
Our Kid
, said of it, ‘A winner … She grabs and holds the attention of the reader from the very first page.’ Penguin published the second book in the trilogy,
Wings of the Morning
, in September 2003 and the last,
A Time of Peace
, in March 2004. Beryl is married and lives in Hampshire.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoy A CHANGE OF FORTUNE. I certainly loved writing it. I have always weaved stories in my head and written them down, and cherished the idea that one day I would be published. But it wasn’t until I had retired that I decided to do something about it.

I know retirement is considered a time to take life at a more sedate pace, but I saw it more as an opportunity to do something I had dreamed about for some time. Now I had the time to see if I could become a published author. So, I didn’t put my feet up and let the world pass me by. I began to work very hard. I attended Writers’ Conferences, joined a Writers’ Group, talked to established writers, and kept on writing. I really didn’t know if I had a chance, but I knew that if I didn’t try I would regret it very much.

My family were all devoted readers and I grew up surrounded by books. My mother would visit the local library and bring back as many books as allowed. These were devoured and returned as she searched the shelves again for something new, something she hadn’t read. We all loved books and I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t read. My house is still full of books, and I keep telling myself that I really must have a clear out, but it is so hard to part with them.

I will read almost anything, but my particular love is historical novels by people like Sharon Penman and Dorothy Dunnett. Another on my list of must reads is anything by Barbara Erskine. In fact, anything in fiction and non-fiction finds its way on to my bedside table.

At the age of seventy I was fortunate enough to be taken on by an agent.

After that things moved very quickly and Penguin began to publish my books. How lucky can you get! A CHANGE OF FORTUNE is my fourth book with Penguin.

I am sometimes asked where the ideas come from. The answer is that I honestly don’t know. When I reach the halfway stage of one story, I start to listen. Sometimes an idea comes quickly, others it takes time. But the idea forms; it might be triggered by an overheard conversation, a news item, or just by sitting quietly and allowing my thoughts to wander. I never try to force the idea but remain confident that it will arrive before I’ve finished working on the current book. As soon as I’ve written the last word of one story, I immediately like to start the next.

I am very disciplined and write every day. It isn’t a chore. It’s what I love to do. But once a week I do treat myself to a swim. As I plough up and down the pool, I switch off, and after an hour feel refreshed and ready to start writing again.

I am now busier in my retirement than I have ever been, and I would not have it any other way!

Thanks for reading my stories – I hope you’ll continue to do so. After all, without you, the reader, there’s not much point in writing anything! I’d love to hear what you think of the books or if you have any memories of the places or periods I write about. You can write to me c/o Penguin at any time, and you’ll soon be able to sign up to receive a regular newsletter telling you exactly what I’m up to!

Thanks once again and take care of yourselves.

Happy reading,

Love

To sign up for Beryl’s new regular newsletter please visit
www.penguin.co.uk/berylmatthews
to register your details. Alternatively, please send your details and any other correspondence to Beryl Matthews c/o Abbie Sampson, Penguin General Publicity, 80 Strand, London, WC2R 0RL

1

November 1929

It was a beautiful crisp day with hardly a cloud in the sky. Eugenie Elizabeth Winford glanced up from the essay she was attempting to write about her namesake: Eugénie de Montijo, French empress from Spain and the consort of Napoleon III. Worry gnawed at her, destroying her concentration. Why had her parents made her stay here during the entire summer holiday? Surely she could have gone home for a week or two. It had been her sixteenth birthday on 28 August, and her father usually made a point of being home at that time each year, but in July the head, Miss Patterson-Hay, had told her that she was to remain at school. No reason had been given. You were discouraged from asking questions and had to accept what your elders told you. She found the edict frustrating and had the utmost difficulty in holding her tongue. One brief explanation would have saved her weeks of wondering and worry. Even her father’s last letter had been unusually short: all he’d said was that he was very sorry but would come as soon as he could. His business was in America, so she understood that he couldn’t always be here.

Her smile was wistful. Perhaps he would take her to
the seaside again. They always had such fun together visiting museums, old houses and churches, walking along country lanes and stopping for tea in quaint village tea rooms.

She gazed out of the window and watched the gold and red leaves floating down to form a colourful carpet beneath the ancient oak trees. The Templeton School for Young Ladies was a lovely place, set in the heart of the Kent countryside. She was happy here, but after weeks spent in this tranquil setting Eugenie found the thought of London exciting, and she longed to see her father again.

‘Miss Winford,’ Miss Staples said sharply, ‘that’s quite enough daydreaming.’

Eugenie put her head down and tried to marshal her thoughts, chewing the end of her pen in concentration. The classroom was silent except for the scratch of nibs as the pupils set about their allotted task. When was it the empress had died? What was it the history book said? She tried to picture the words on the pages she’d been reading yesterday … Ah, yes, she remembered now. After Napoleon III was overthrown and captured in 1870, his empress fled to England and died at Farnborough.

After putting in the final full stop, she grimaced at the page. Miss Staples wasn’t going to be very impressed with this effort. It was too short, and even the fact that she’d made her writing larger and spread the words out to cover more space couldn’t disguise the puny effort. Well, it would just have to do; she really couldn’t think
of anything else to say. Now, if they’d asked her to write about the Pankhursts, then she would have had plenty to say. She admired the way they had fought, and even been imprisoned for their passionate belief that women should be given the vote. Last year the voting age had been lowered to twenty-one, and that had been a tremendous achievement for all those women who had struggled for so many years.