Phaedra Patrick - The Secrets of Sunshine

‘A wonderfully hope-filled story’

Sarah Haywood, bestselling author of The Cactus

‘A gem of a book. I loved it’

Sarah Morgan, Sunday Times bestseller

‘A story of self-discovery’

Hello!

‘Wonderful… the perfect summer read’

Woman

‘A charming story with thought-provoking themes’

Candis

‘A feel-good story with oodles of charm’

Daily Mail

‘This book is a balm for the soul and the heart’

The Sun

‘A gorgeous journey’

Heat

‘An unforgettable story’

Harper’s Bazaar

‘As charming and witty as the title suggests’

My Weekly

‘We love this sweet story about self-discovery’

Take A Break

‘Eccentric, charming and wise, this will illuminate your heart’ Nina George, author of The Little Paris Bookshop

PHAEDRA PATRICKstudied art and marketing and has worked as a stained-glass artist, film festival organiser and communications manager. She is a prize-winning short story writer and her debut novel was translated into over twenty languages. She lives in Saddleworth with her husband and son, where she writes full time.

The Library of Lost and Found

The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper

Wishes Under the Willow Tree

Phaedra Patrick

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

Copyright © Phaedra Patrick 2020

Phaedra Patrick asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for 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, 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.

Ebook Edition © May 2020 ISBN: 9780008237684

Version 2020-04-30

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

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Page numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9780008237677

To my family and friends

Cover

Praise

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

The Lilac Envelope

1. A Locked Heart

2. Pizza Boxes

3. Small Shoes

4. Pink Fridge

5. Angel House

6. Earring

7. Message

8. Chocolates

9. Green Bottles

10. Office

11. Sheet Music

12. Campfire

13. Carl’s Letter

14. Stitches

15. Mosaic

16. Swing

17. Dinner

18. Ice-Skating

19. Ghosts

20. Chains

21. Padlock

22. Biscuits

23. Pineapple

24. Swimming

25. Park

26. Bench

27. Family

28. Pigeons

29. An Unlocked Heart

30. Project Padlock

31. Wedding Day

32. Last Dance

33. Liza’s Letter

34. The New Bridge

Acknowledegments

Extract

About the Publisher

The night before

As he did often over the past three years, Mitchell Fisher wrote a letter he would never send.

He sat up in bed at midnight and kicked off his sheets. Even though all the internal doors in his apartment were open, the sticky July heat still felt like a shroud clinging to his body. His nine-year-old daughter, Poppy, thrashed restlessly in her sleep in the bedroom opposite.

Mitchell turned on his bedside lamp, squinting against the yellow light, and took out a pad of Basildon Bond notepaper from underneath his bed. He always used a fountain pen to write – old-fashioned, he supposed, but he was a man who valued things that were well constructed and long lasting.

Mitchell tapped the pen against his bottom lip. He knew what he wanted to say, but by the time his words of sorrow and regret had travelled from his brain to his fingertips, they were only fragments of what he longed to express.

As he started to write, the sound of the metal nib scratching against paper helped him block out the city street noise that hummed below his apartment.

Dearest Anita,

Another letter from me. Everything here is fine, ticking along. Poppy is doing well. The school holidays start soon and I thought she’d be more excited. It’s probably because you’re not here to enjoy them with us.

I’ve taken two weeks off work to spend with her, and have a full itinerary planned for us – badminton, tennis, library visits, cooking, walking, the park, swimming, museums, a tour of the city bridges and more. It will keep us busy. Keep our minds off you.

You’ll be amazed how much she’s grown, must be almost your height by now. I tell her how proud I am of her, but it always meant more coming from you.

Mitchell paused, resting his hand against the pad of paper. He had to tell her how he felt.

Every time I look at our daughter, I think of you. I wish I could hold you again, and tell you I’m truly sorry.

Yours, always,

Mitchell x

He read his words, always dissatisfied with them, never able to convey the magnitude of guilt he felt. After folding the piece of paper once, he sealed it into a crisp, cream envelope, then squeezed it into the almost-full drawer of his nightstand among all the other letters he’d written. His eyes fell upon the slim lilac envelope he kept on top, the one addressed to him from Anita that he’d not yet been able to bring himself to open.

Taking it out, he held it under his nose and inhaled. There was still a slight scent of her violet soap on the paper. His finger followed the angle of the gummed flap and then stopped. He closed his eyes and willed himself to open the letter, but his hands began to shake.

Once more, he placed it back into his drawer.

Mitchell lay down and hugged himself, imagining Anita’s arms were wrapped around him. When he closed his eyes, the words from all the letters weighed down upon him like a bulldozer. As he turned and tried to sleep, he pulled the pillow over his head to force them away.