Ugh. The ticket man was shoving my shoulder.
"Miss, this is your stop!"
I watched the greasy boy get off and hurled my self out of the warm carridge and onto the freezing, deserted platform. I whipped ou my brochure and studied the map. Stepping out of the dusty station to the great outdoors, I mavelled at how dark it had gotten. I grumbled to myself. Yes, the small houses were chic but the cobbles hated Fleurs. This bothered me. Terribly. My bronzed hand shook and I slapped it with the other.
I had been travelling for three days and wished I hadn't sent all my luggage ahead and kept more supplies in my Gucci Fends Collab Clutch. I gripped it tighter as I looked at the abismal selection of shops around me. Oxfam, a hairy ladies shop. Clarks, for people who want school shoes or cheap Stilettos. Spar, junky pot noodles and stale milk. And last and least, a home farm shop. Uddery bits and donkey doos packed into jars and pickled at two-hundred degrees to burn away anything but the fat. Yum.
How am I going to survive?! Where was La Senza or Gucci. Even a Red% express would be a godsend. I was about to continue with my moan but I was too shocked by what lay before me.
A castle like mansion was at the foot of a primrose lined drive. Many shiny 60 plates lay lifeless side by side round the side of this... place. No way was this a school. Where was the rubbish moss on the crumbling brick? Where were the smashed windows and police lines. The pristine house had immaculate brickwork and elaborate windows.
After what seemed like a ten mile walk up the drive, I used the disabled, electric entrance.. I tottered up the marble steps and was met by a warm heat. My eyes popped and it was all I could do to keep my mouth closed.
What is this place?!