Churchill’s Angels. Ruby Jackson

Churchill’s Angels - Ruby  Jackson


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      RUBY JACKSON

       Churchill’s Angels

       Copyright

      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.

       Harper

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers 2013

      Jacket layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2013

      Jacket photographs © Colin Thomas (girl); UPPA/Photoshot (background)

      The Author hereby waives all moral rights in the Work. Notwithstanding the foregoing, the Publishers undertake to include the Author’s name in all copies of the Work.

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

      Source ISBN: 9780007506231

      Ebook Edition © May 2013 ISBN: 9780007506255

      Version 2016-10-17

      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.

      This book is dedicated to Sarah and Colin Ramsay

      Table of Contents

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Read on for an exclusive extract from Grace’s story, Wave Me Goodbye.

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

       ONE

       August 1939

      ‘Cheerio, Mrs Richardson.’

      Daisy Petrie held the door open as her last customer, still grumbling under her breath, left the shop.

      ‘Give me strength,’ Daisy muttered. ‘I have got to get out of here.’

      She stood for a moment watching the old lady’s progress along the crowded High Street. Two large trams passed each other as they flew noisily along their tracks and the indistinguishable words of a carter and a van driver drifted over to her on the warm air.

      The day promised to grow even warmer, and she caught the smell of fresh fish from the open window of a neighbouring shop.

      Hope somebody buys them before they go off, she thought ruefully as she stepped back into Petrie’s Groceries and Fine Teas.

      She looked around the family’s small shop, the place where she had worked almost every Saturday while growing up, and full time since she had left school. It was, as small, family-run grocery shops go, a pleasant place. Behind the counter was a wall that, to the child Daisy, had seemed a magical place, lined as it was with large black tins, each one exotically painted with brightly coloured Chinese dragons. Inside each tin, sweet-smelling tea leaves waited to be weighed out for knowledgeable customers.

      The large window, into which her dad, Fred Petrie, put out the bargains of the day, looked out over the busy High Street, and there in the middle of the street now stood Mrs Richardson, chatting enthusiastically to young Mrs Davis, who was obviously trying to be polite while keeping an eye on two active toddlers.

      ‘Not too tired to stand now,’ said Daisy.

      Mrs Richardson had grumbled loud and long about having to wait while Daisy had dealt with the three customers before her.

      ‘Should be two assistants working every day, Daisy, not just when it suits you, and so I shall tell your dad or your mam when I see them. Kills me, all this standing about, absolutely kills me.’

      Daisy had apologised, explaining that her father


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