Sorry for the wait on this - I've been really busy x I should have been able to post this days ago :

She rang him a few times after he left her at St Trinian's. This was almost always inconvenient, as since he'd left her at the school he'd spent most of his time partying as he hadn't since Annabelle had been born.

It was extremely annoying.

She needed to grow up and learn how to take care of herself. He knew that hiring that governess had been bad - the governess had babied her. He'd certainly never been babied, and neither had Camilla, and both of them had turned out fine.

They'd turned out like proper Fritton's, not this weak slip of a daughter who was afraid to say boo to a goose.

He was ashamed of her.

But Camilla wasn't.

And that was something he couldn't figure out. Camilla seemed to believe that Annabelle was hiding a true Fritton girl inside of her, and maybe she was right. It was just that Carnaby wasn't all that bothered about finding it. He had much better things to do with his time.

Like make the deal on the black market on the purchase of the Girl With The Pearl Earring.

And buying out St Trinian's. He was far too busy to call his daughter! Maybe at the end of the year. Ask her if she wanted to stay with her Aunt over the summer, purely as a learning opportunity of course.

And then there had been that whole deal with the Girl With The Pearl Earring and the German art dealer who didn't know where in Germany he hailed from.

And Carnaby had ended up paying an awful lot of money for one of his sister's fakes - good though it was. It was still a fake.

And it wasn't like he could complain to the police. He'd 'bought' it on the black market after all, the day after it had been stolen.

That night he'd screamed like a man possessed, raged and fumed. He wondered at his daughter's involvement - by all accounts she appeared to be growing out of her shell into normality, even if he didn't think she'd ever be a true Fritton. St Trinian's had been good for her - but hopefully not too good.

No, his Annabelle would never do something like this he told himself.

Carnaby believed himself until the next day when Annabelle was shown on television with a group of other girls from that school, looking more like a Fritton that she ever had before. She had looked almost dangerous and predatory. She had known what she wanted and how to get it - and in this case it was a big fat check. And she'd gotten it.

Furious though he was, he applauded their cunning, even of only in the deepest levels of his mind and not that he'd ever admit it aloud, or even consciously. It seemed the sink or swim mode had worked. She had more than learnt to swim, she had learnt how to fly over the water without touching it in the first place.

Annabelle was more than one of the sharks now, she was leader of the pack.