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The Last Letter from Juliet
Melanie Hudson
The USA TODAY bestseller! For fans of Soraya M. Lane, Heather Morris, Fiona Valpy and Pam Jenoff. Inspired by the brave women of WWII, this is a moving and powerful novel of friendship, love and resilience. A story of love not a story of a war A daring WWII pilot who grew up among the clouds, Juliet Caron’s life was one of courage, adventure – and a love torn apart by war. Every nook of her Cornish cottage is alive with memories just waiting to be discovered. Katherine Henderson has escaped to Cornwall for Christmas, but she soon finds there is more to her holiday cottage than meets the eye. And on the eve of Juliet’s 100th birthday, Katherine is enlisted to make an old lady’s final Christmas wish come true… Me Before You meets The English Patient in this stunning romantic historical novel from award-winning author Melanie Hudson. Readers love The Last Letter from Juliet ‘OK…. I’ve finished the book. Holy ******…I had to keep taking breaks in the last 15% just so I didn’t break down in a flood of tears’ Zoe Hartgen ‘Read the first chapter and I. Was. HOOKED!’ Skye’s Mum ‘If you only read one book this year make it The Last Letter from Juliet’ Tracey Shults ‘I just couldn't put it down until finished’ Jeanette ‘Captures those stolen moments in dangerous and desperate times…beautiful, nostalgic and emotional’ Cheryl M-M ‘Jam packed full of emotion…I don't usually read historical fiction but I'm so glad I read this’ Jennie Scanlan ‘I can highly recommend this beautiful tale of love, sacrifice, friendship, courage and so much more’ Nessa Stimpson
The Last Letter from Juliet
MELANIE HUDSON
One More Chapter
a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Copyright © Melanie Hudson 2019
Cover images © Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com)
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Melanie Hudson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008319649
Ebook Edition © August 2019 ISBN: 9780008319632
Version: 2019-09-02
Table of Contents
Cover (#u4837d156-e47c-5fdd-b19a-6ba7b19492dc)
Title Page (#u6fdf0755-058b-5223-ab2e-a18ce4b50947)
Copyright (#u5bc6a3af-b2b2-5288-94b0-e73afd07083d)
Dedication (#u01822bc3-2780-50b5-87d4-2a090ac48c19)
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
Dedicated to the inspirational and courageous women pilots who served with the Air Transport Auxiliary during the Second World War – the ultimate Attagirls!
Prologue (#u7e48d4b0-6036-5362-8380-0dc83e588d19)
Read Me
This is a note to yourself, Juliet.
At the time of writing you are ninety-two years old and worried that the bits and bobs of your story have begun to go astray. You must read this note carefully every day and work very hard to keep yourself and the memories alive, because once upon a time you told a man called Edward Nancarrow that you would, and it’s important to keep that promise, Juliet, even when there seems to be little point going on.
In the mahogany sideboard you will find all the things you will need to keep living your life alone. These things are: bank details; savings bonds; emergency contact numbers; basic information about you – your name, age and place of birth; money in a freezer bag; an emergency mobile phone. More importantly, there are also your most precious possessions scattered around the house. I’ve labelled them, to help you out.
Written on the back of this note is a copy of the poem Edward gave you in 1943. Make sure you can recite it (poetry is good for the brain). And finally, even if you forget everything else, remember that, in the end, Edward’s very simple words are the only things that have ever really mattered.
Now, make sure you’ve had something to eat and a glass of water – water helps with memory – and whatever happens in the future, whatever else you may forget, always remember … he’s waiting.
With an endless supply of love,
Juliet
Chapter 1 (#u7e48d4b0-6036-5362-8380-0dc83e588d19)
Katherine
A proposal
It was a bright Saturday lunchtime in early December. I’d just closed the lounge curtains and was about to binge-watch The Crown for the fourth time that year when a Christmas card bearing a Penzance postmark dropped through the letter box.
Uncle Gerald. Had to be.
The card, with an illustration of a distressed donkey carrying a (somewhat disappointed-looking) Virgin Mary being egged on by a couple of haggard angels, contained within it my usual Christmas catch-up letter. I wandered through to the kitchen and clicked the kettle on – it was a four-pager.
My Dear Katherine
Firstly, I hope this letter finds you well, or as well as to be expected given your distressing circumstances of living alone in Exeter with no family around you again this Christmas.
Cheers for that, Gerald
But more of your circumstances in a moment because (to quote the good bard) ‘something is rotten in the state of Denmark’ and I’m afraid this year’s letter will not burst forth with my usual festive cheer. There is at present a degree of what can only be described as civil unrest breaking out in Angels Cove and I am at my wits end trying to promote an atmosphere of peace and good will in time for Christmas. I’m hopeful you will be able to offer a degree of academic common sense to the issue.
Here’s the rub: the Parish Council (you may remember that I am the chair?) has been informed that the village boundaries are to be redrawn in January as part of a Cornwall County Council administrative shake-up. This simple action has lit the touch paper of a centuries-old argument amongst the residents that needs – finally – to be put to rest.
The argument in question is this: should our village be apostrophised or not? If ‘yes’, then should the apostrophe come before or after the ‘s’?
It is a Total Bloody Nightmare!
It really isn’t, Gerald.
At the moment, Angels Cove is written without an apostrophe, but most agree that there should be an apostrophe in there somewhere, yet where? The argument seems to rest on three questions:
1. Does the cove ‘belong’ to just one angel (the angel depicted in the church stained glass window, for example, as some people claim that they have seen him) or to a multitude of angels (i.e. the possessive of a singular or a plural noun).
2. Does the cove belong to the angels or do the angels belong to the cove? (The minority who wish to omit the apostrophe in its entirety ask this question.)
3. Does the word angel in Angels Cove actually refer, not to the winged messengers of the Devine, but to the notorious pirate, Jeremiah ‘Cut-throat’ Angel, who sailed from Penzance circa 1723 and whose ship, The Savage Angel, was scuppered in Mounts Bay (not apostrophised, you will note) when he returned from the West Indies at the tender age of twenty-nine?
