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The Forgotten Village. Lorna Cook
Читать онлайн.Название The Forgotten Village
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008321864
Автор произведения Lorna Cook
Жанр Исторические любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
THE FORGOTTEN VILLAGE
Lorna Cook
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Lorna Cook 2019
Cover design by Becky Glibbery © HarperCollins Publishers 2019
Cover photograph © Shutterstock
Lorna Cook 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 ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, 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: 9780008321857
Ebook Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008321864
Version: 2019-05-29
For Stephen
Thanks for doing everything and being everything.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue: Tyneham, Dorset, December 1943
Chapter 1: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 9
Chapter 10: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 11: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 12: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 13
Chapter 14: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 15: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 23: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 24
Chapter 25: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 26: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 36: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 37: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 38: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 39: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42: Tyneham, December 1943
Chapter 43: Dorset, July 2018
Chapter 44
Chapter 45: Requisition Day, December 1943
Chapter 46: Dorset, Autumn 2019
Epilogue: Scotland, December 1948
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
Tyneham, Dorset, December 1943
Lady Veronica stood shivering in front of the crowd of over two hundred faces in the village square. She desperately hoped none of them had heard the events of last night. Each one of the villagers was a familiar face, and each looked expectantly at her and the handsome man at her side, who was gripping her hand so tightly it hurt. He was expected to say something; a few words of encouragement were all the villagers needed to assure them that they were doing the right thing. It was something they could be proud of – leaving the village, giving it over to the war effort for the troops to use for training. They were doing something that would go down in the history books as an act of incredible sacrifice for the war and for their country.
‘Sir Albert?’ the vicar prompted, indicating it was time to speak.
The man at her side nodded. He stepped forward a few paces and Veronica moved with him. He gripped her hand tighter. Her fingers felt the thick gold band of the wedding ring he was wearing and she shuddered.
Feeling dizzy, she put her free hand to the back of her head to touch the large lump that had formed. She had managed to wash away most of the blood – of which there had been plenty – but a few traces of thick, oozing red liquid still appeared on her fingers when she pulled them out of her hair. She wiped it off on the black fabric of her dress. Black for mourning. She felt it appropriate