Back A Postcard from Italy
Chapters (38)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. EPILOGUE
  30. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  31. BETTY’S TRULY SCRUMPTIOUS BABKA CAKE
  32. READ ON FOR A Q&A WITH ALEX …
  33. Keep Reading …
  34. PROLOGUE
  35. 1
  36. About the Author
  37. Also by Alex Brown
  38. About the Publisher

‘Ooh, sounds intriguing.’ Grace finished the last of her tea and stood up as Larry walked through the door. A clipboard and a bunch of keys were pressed against his uniform of a black suit, including waistcoat and tie with a freshly laundered striped shirt. With his swept-back silver hair, he had been making an effort to look dapper since he was first introduced to Betty at a tea dance back in the day. They had both been nineteen and it had been a mutual love at first sight. Grace loved hearing all about it from Betty. It gave her hope, that there really was such a thing as ‘happy ever after’, where two kind souls could love and cherish and, most importantly, respect each other as they shared a life together.

‘That’s right, Grace. Your favourite job. Unit 28 needs opening and cataloguing for sale or disposal.’ Larry removed his bifocals and slipped them into his breast pocket before handing the clipboard to her, then started sorting out the key to the padlock on the door of number 28.

‘Thank you!’ Grace particularly loved this part of her job. Not that she was nosey – well, maybe a bit; her mother always said she was as a child – ‘with your constant questioning’. ‘Inquisitive’ was how Grace liked think of it, as she did get a thrill of anticipation when the door to an abandoned unit was first opened and she got to peep inside and then sort through the contents. Somebody else’s cast-off stuff was always another person’s treasure.