The Letter

THE LETTERJosephine Coxwith Gilly Middleton CopyrightHarperCollinsPublishers Ltd1 London Bridge StreetLondon SE1 9GFwww.harpercollins.co.uk HarperCollinsPublishersMacken House39/40 Mayor Street Upper Dublin 1D01 C9W8IrelandFirst published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2023Copyright © The Estate of Josephine Cox 2023 Jacket design by Caroline Young © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2023Jacket photographs © Mark Owen/Trevillion Images (landscape); Natasza Fiedotjew/Trevillion Images (woman and letters); Shutterstock.com (sky)Josephine Cox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.Gilly Middleton is acknowledged as the co-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: 9780008128258Ebook Edition © March 2023 ISBN: 9780008128630Version: 2023-01-31 ContentsCoverTitle PageCopyrightPrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeKeep Reading …About the AuthorAlso by Josephine CoxAbout the Publisher PROLOGUE‘MUM, CAN I go—’Nanette seemed not to hear her daughter but carried on talking. ‘… And then, Harry, I thought we could stop at St Ives on the way back. The light is so special there, even at this time of year.’‘Good idea,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll put my gear in the back of the car.’‘Mum, Dad, can I—’‘Yes, but let’s keep it simple. No easels or half a ton of paints.’‘When did I ever take half a ton of anything?’ Harry pretended to look indignant, but his eyes were twinkling.‘When did you ever not? Sometimes with you, preparing for a day out is more like packing for a three-week expedition. Like a trip to … to the Alps.’‘Such drama, my love! And not true!’‘The honest truth,’ laughed Nanette. ‘If you have the backseat for your stuff, I’ll take the boot, but if any of your things get in my space, I swear I shall chuck them into the road! Now, give me half an hour to do my face and put on a nice frock, and we’ll be on our way.’‘A whole half-hour, when you already look ravishing?’Nanette, rising from the table, beamed at her husband and grabbed his hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. ‘I’m right excited about our day out.’‘Right excited, eh?’‘Dad, Mum! Please! Can I come, too?’‘What?’ Nanette, now halfway to the door, stopped and turned as if surprised to see her daughter sitting at the breakfast table. ‘Oh, Millie …’ she said vaguely. ‘I thought you said summat about going to Sarah’s.’‘No, Mum. It was you who said about Sarah’s. I want to come with you. Please let me. You know I love St Ives.’‘But, Millie,’ said Harry, ‘we’re not going straight there. We’re off to see Jane and Donald, talk about Mum painting some flowers on their living-room walls, have something nice to eat … Probably something nice to drink, too.’ He turned to look up at Nanette with a wink. ‘Grown-ups’ day out. No children allowed. You’d only be bored, anyway.’‘I wouldn’t, Dad. I like Jane and Donald, and they never make me feel like a little child … like a leftover … like I’m not wanted.’ Millie could feel the familiar heat of resentment gathering and taking control of her.‘Leftover? Not wanted?’ said Nanette, giving Millie a hug. ‘Really, Millie, you don’t half talk soft sometimes. Jane and Donald are always very kind, but they’ve invited just your dad and me today.’‘But why didn’t they ask me, too?’‘Because I told them you would be seeing your friend Sarah.’‘No, Mum, it was you who said—’‘Millie, please, stop being a baby,’ said Harry, mildly. ‘Mum and I are going to see our friends, and you are going to see your friend. Makes perfect sense to me.’Millie flung her head down on her folded arms at the table. Her parents knew just how to twist situations to suit themselves, often leaving her to kick her heels alone or offloading her on their friends and neighbours while they had all the fun together, just the two of them.‘But I don’t want to,’ she insisted. ‘I want to go with you. Sarah’s all right, but her mum talks to me as if … as if she feels sorry for me. And she keeps on about me going to school. I’d rather go to Jane and Donald’s and see what you’re going to paint, Mum.’ She felt angry tears threatening. ‘It’s not fair! I want to go to St Ives!’‘Millie, love, you sound just like a toddler, not a child of fourteen,’ said Nanette, reaching for her cigarettes on the dresser. ‘Life isn’t fair – it’s tough. I know that as much as anyone.’ As she stretched up for her matches, as if to emphasise her words, her sleeve fell back, showing an old, deep scar on the pale skin of her forearm. ‘If you don’t want to go to Sarah’s, you can stay here and amuse yourself. Just so me and Dad can have a precious day together.’‘But you have lots of days together. Are they more precious if I’m not there? It’s as if you don’t want me. As if you’d prefer me not to be here. I bet you wish I’d never been born!’‘And now you’re being silly,’ said Harry. ‘And where did you learn to put on the drama? From your mother, I bet.’ He turned to wink at Nanette to show he was trying to jolly Millie out of her mood.‘Don’t be mean,’