Josephine Cox - A Woman’s Fortune

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The new novel from Sunday Times bestselling author Josephine Cox – the master storyteller.With her family’s fate resting on her shoulders, Evie learns her lessons in life fast. It’s going to take a woman’s courage to find a new beginning…One night, after her father gambles everything away, Evie and her family are forced to do a moonlight flit. It’s a fresh start in the South, where no-one knows their name, and Evie desperately misses all they’ve left behind. Yet Evie’s troubles are just beginning. Her mother, worn down by life, deserts them for a new man, and with her grandmother’s sight failing, Evie must carry the burden of earning their keep. Holding the family together becomes harder when tragedy strikes at its heart, but there is hope on the horizon . . .Evie Carter just needs the courage to change the fortunes of her family.Praise for Josephine Cox‘Cox's talent as storyteller never lets you escape the spell' Daily Mail‘Family secrets threaten to ruin everything in this beautiful tale of love and sadness’ Woman’s Own 'Another masterpiece' Best

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Copyright Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street - фото 1 Copyright Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street - фото 2

Copyright

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Josephine Cox 2018

Jacket design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Jacket photographs © Sandra Cunningham /Arcangel Images (background),

Magdalena Russocka /Trevillion Images (woman), Shutterstock.com(sky)

Josephine Cox asserts the moral right to be identified as the 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: 9780008128234

Ebook Edition © June 2018 ISBN: 9780008128586

Version: 2018-11-26

Dedication

For my Ken – as always

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Author Note

Part One: The Leaving

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Part Two: A Turn in the Road

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Josephine Cox

About the Publisher

PART ONE The Leaving July 1954 - фото 3

PART ONE

The Leaving July 1954 CHAPTER ONE Shenty Street Bolton Lancashire Shed - фото 4

The Leaving

July 1954

CHAPTER ONE Shenty Street Bolton Lancashire Shed seen him around here - фото 5

CHAPTER ONE

Shenty Street, Bolton, Lancashire

She’d seen him around here only a couple of times before, a scruffy-looking man with his cap pulled low and his collar raised high. He had a furtive air, not looking directly at anyone in the street and skulking in the shadows instead of greeting folk with a cheery ‘All right?’ in the usual way. Round here, everyone knew everyone else – and their business – so Evie was certain this man was a stranger. And, from his manner, he was up to no good.

The question was, what did he want with her dad?

She’d now come into the kitchen to make sure her brothers, Peter and Robert, were getting on with their homework, leaving her mum and Grandma Sue folding the dried clothes ready to be ironed. Now, standing just inside, the back door partly closed to conceal her, Evie watched her father and the stranger. The two men faced each other in the shadowy alleyway between the Carters’ house and the next row of terraces. Evie could plainly see both men in profile, her father taller, younger and more handsome than the weaselly-looking fella. The stranger was saying something in a voice too low for her to hear and then Dad, who had been smiling, no doubt laying on the charm, muttered something in return and began to look less happy. The next moment the man, his expression aggressive, was wagging a finger in Dad’s face. Evie was surprised to see her father’s shoulders slump and he no longer met the other man’s eye. She was half ashamed to be snooping and half afraid that here was bad news on the way and she ought to see if she could do something about it before her mum heard. This wouldn’t be the first time Dad had got in a bit of a tight corner, and Mum had lost a bit of her sparkle of late.

Since Evie had left school to help her mother and Grandmother Sue with the washing business she was more aware of what everyone in the family was up to. It wasn’t always bad news with Dad, but there had been some weeks when money was especially tight after he’d had a long evening at the pub, celebrating or commiserating some event with ‘the lads’, especially if the bookie’s runner had been there collecting the stake on some nag that Dad had been told was ‘a certainty’ to win and make his fortune, and which had eventually cantered in well down the field.

Michael Carter was never down for long and, with his irrepressible high spirits, would shrug off his setbacks and carry on regardless, sweeping aside any difficulties as if they weren’t happening. But Mum was sometimes impatient with him these days, and the older she got the more Evie could see Mum’s point of view. Somehow Dad’s jokes weren’t as funny as they used to be, and Evie understood why her mother was beginning to look worn down and her smile had grown, like herself, thin. You couldn’t live on laughs, after all.

What was that word Mary had used when Evie had once confided how annoying Dad’s charm could be when you recognised how he worked it on you? Exasperating. Mary Sullivan, Evie’s best friend, was clever. She always had her head in a book and knew a whole dictionary of good words. She even had a dictionary, so Evie reckoned ‘exasperating’ was probably exactly the right word for her father.

Evie glanced to where her brothers were labouring over their schoolwork at the kitchen table. Their heads were down in concentration so she risked opening the door a fraction wider and craned her neck through the gap. The two men were talking intently but their voices remained low. Then the stranger, with another jab of his pointed finger, turned and disappeared from view. Evie waited a minute, then made a show of opening the back door wide and treading heavily up the alleyway to greet her father where he had moved to stand in the open in front of the house. The summer’s evening sun was low between the rows of back-to-back houses and for a moment a golden beam shone through the sooty air directly onto his face, showing his furrowed brow and his tired eyes with a fine trace of lines she had never noticed before. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, facing into the sun with his eyes closed, almost as if he were praying. Suddenly Evie saw that her handsome dad looked older than his years.

Michael Carter looked up at his daughter’s approach and turned to her, his smile instantly back in place.

‘You all right, Evie?’

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