Sam, or Dr Samantha Hightower as the sign on her door proclaimed, had come a long way from her foundling roots. She was intelligent and beautiful, a respected member of the community and of the church. She was a tribute to what could be achieved through dedication and sheer hard work. Sam was the Principal of the Millbrook Primary School in the sleepy town of Holland Marsh in rural Lincolnshire. Many of Sam's friends at Cambridge University thought that she was wasting herself in such an insignificant backwater, but Sam loved her job and was also working on what she hoped would become the definitive text on child development.

Sam sighed deeply, mourning her lost childhood, then glanced at her watch. It was almost three fifteen. Sam made a point of being at the gates when parents and children arrived and there when they left. No matter how approachable Sam tried to make herself, there were always some parents who would never be comfortable coming in to her office. This way she could chat informally.

As Sam walked through the corridors of the school she smiled to herself. She was looking forward to getting home that evening. Sam had invited Rachel Evans to tea. Rachel was an old friend, from the days of the orphanage. She'd settled in the area too and was one of the voluntary Governors at Millbrook. Her two children, Jane and Sarah, went to Sam's school. They were delightful kids, always full of life, and Sam enjoyed the family atmosphere they brought to her house when they visited.

As Sam walked towards the main door, Miss Devonshire rang the bell signalling the end of another week of school. Sam made her way down the steps and across the playground to the school gates. There were at least twenty parents waiting outside for their children, their cars parked with two wheels up on the grass verge. Sam tried to encourage as many people as possible to use the school bus, or to walk if possible, but there was still a hard core of car junkies. Smiling, Sam walked from person to person, an interested word for each of the attending parents. Suddenly a stream of children ran from the school, glad to be out in the sun. Lithe of limb and fair of face, the children of Holland Marsh were a living testament to late twentieth century nutrition and access to open space to grow up in.

The children bounced around, groups forming and dispersing, as they left school for the weekend. The school bus group lined up by the gate, laughing and joking, waiting for Mr Christie to count them onto the bus. One by one, parents linked up with their children and drove or walked off. The bus group climbed aboard and were driven away. Until there were just the few very local children who walked home alone. It seemed to be axiomatic that, the closer you were to school, the later you arrived and the longer it took to leave. Perhaps she could add something about that to her research. Finally, after shooing the last children away, Sam was able to go back inside for a last check on things before going home.

Later that evening Sam was relaxing in her garden with a gin and tonic. Rachel was sitting opposite, wine glass in her hand. Jane and Sarah were sitting cross-legged on the lawn, busily making daisy chains. Jane, the oldest at 7, was showing her 5 year old sister how to link the flowers together. The two children had striking looks; they combined their mother's dark Mediterranean skin with their dead father's red hair. Both were skinny as rakes, their vests fitting them like second skins. As Sam idly watched she could see beneath Jane's skirt, her cute white panties drawing her attention. A slight thrill went through Sam, she'd always been attracted to women but, recently, she'd begun to notice the bodies of the children in her school. It was something she was quite relaxed about although, as Principal, she knew that she could never act on her impulses. It was hard enough concealing her lesbian tendencies from the conservative education authorities, paedophilia was a risk she daren't even contemplate.

"So ... Are you going to work all through the summer holidays as usual, or can I tempt you into that chalet at Yarmouth for a week? The kids would love it."

Sam smiled, she needed a holiday. "Okay Rachel. You win. I'll come. I have to work for the first two weeks of the holidays but then a week in the sun would be great."

Jane hearing Sam's agreement jumped up and threw her arms around her. "Auntie Sam! You're gonna come? Great!"

Sam hugged the gorgeous 7 year old. "Yes my darling! A whole week, just you, Sarah, Mummy and me!".....(cont)