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Back Reluctantly Home Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Evelyn closed the front door and then stood with her back against it, her head resting on the flaking paintwork. She could hear the muffled tones of a siren somewhere outside and it sent a shudder through her whole body, as it always did, even now. Her hand was still clutching the diary and she raised it to her lips and kissed the daisy cover lightly. Then she held it to her heart as she considered what had just happened.

A visitor was not what she had been expecting today, and certainly not one as interesting as Philippa Rose Appleby. Evelyn had liked her. Even though she had clearly come with an agenda, the nature of which was still a little unclear, she had been prepared to talk honestly. It can’t have been easy for her, confessing to being – well, there was no other way of putting it – to being a snob. She hadn’t believed her name was posh enough and so had simply ditched it in order to fit in.

Evelyn wasn’t surprised her parents had been put out. She tried to imagine how she would have felt if Scarlet had done the same thing to her, but it was a thought she couldn’t process. Scarlet had still been largely unformed when her little life had come to a halt. Picturing what she might or might not have thought about her origins was nigh-on impossible. Evelyn couldn’t conceive of her daughter not wanting to be known as Scarlet; it was such a fabulous name, particularly back in 1979. But then what was wrong with being called Philippa? Or Pip, for that matter? Absolutely nothing. Whatever had been going on for Philippa Rose when she left her sleepy Suffolk town for the bright lights of London, it had nothing to do with having the wrong name.

Evelyn made her way into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. There was another reason why she had been so taken with her visitor, she thought as she sat at the table, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug. Philippa Rose had wanted something different from what was expected of her. Her clear vocation hadn’t matched her parents’ ideas of what her life should be, and that had caused ructions within her family home.