Barbara Taylor Bradford - Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection

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Voice of the Heart first published in Great Britain by Granada Publishing 1983 ‘Happy Birthday to You’, words and music by Mildred J. Jill and Patty S. Hill. Copyright © 1935 Birch Tree Group Ltd, Princeton, N.J. Used by permission.

Act of Will first published in Great Britain by Granada Publishing 1986

Dangerous to Know first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 1995

The Women in His Life first published in Great Britain by Granada Publishing 1990 ‘There’ll Always Be an England’ (Parker/Charles) Copyright © 1939, Dash Music Co. Ltd, 8–9 Frith Street, London, W1V 5TZ Used by permission. All rights reserved. ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’ (Kent/Burton) Copyright © 1941, Shapiro Bernstein & Co. Inc., USA Reproduced by permission of B. Feldman & Co. Ltd, London WC2H 0EA. ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ (Fain/Kahal) Copyright © 1938, Marlo Music Corp., USA Reproduced by permission of Francis Day and Hunter Ltd, London WC2H 0EA. Extract from Rich: The Life of Richard Burton by Melvyn Bragg is reprinted by kind permission of Hodder & Stoughton Ltd.

Copyright © Barbara Taylor Bradford 1983, 1986, 1990, 1995

Jacket layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2013

Jacket photographs © Shutterstock.com

Barbara Taylor Bradford 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 nonexclusive, nontransferable 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.

Source ISBN: 9780007395583, 9780007363728, 9780007330829, 9780007401550

Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007536245

Version: 2017-10-25

Cover

Title Page Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection Voice of the Heart Act of Will The Women in His Life Dangerous to Know by BARBARA TAYLOR BRADFORD

Copyright

Voice of the Heart

Act of Will

The Women in His Life

Dangerous to Know

Keep Reading

About the Author

Also by the Author

About the Publisher

For my husband Robert Bradford with love

‘That voice of the heart, which, Lamartine says,

“alone reaches the heart”.’

MARCEL PROUST

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

Overture: 1978

Chapter One

In the Wings: 1979

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Act One: Downstage Right: 1956

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

In the Wings: 1979

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Act Two: Downstage Left: 1963–1967

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Act Three: Centre Stage: 1979

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Finale: April 1979

‘How like the prodigal doth she return.’

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

I came back because I wanted to, of my own free will. No one forced me to return. But now that I am here I want to take flight, to hide again in obscurity, to put this vast ocean between myself and this place. It bodes me no good .

As these thoughts finally took shape, assumed troubling proportions and jostled for prominence in her mind, the woman’s fine hands, lying inertly in her lap, came together in a clench so forceful that the knuckles protruded sharply through the transparent skin. But there was no other outward display of emotion. She sat as rigid as stone on the seat. Her face, pale and somewhat drawn in the murky morning light, was impassive as a mask and her gaze was fixed with unwavering intensity on the Pacific.

The sea was implacable and the colour of chalcedony on this bleak and sunless day, one that was unnaturally chilly for Southern California, even though it was December when the weather was so often inclement. The woman shivered. The dampness was beginning to seep through her trench-coat into her bones. She felt icy, and yet there was a light film of moisture on her forehead and neck and between her breasts. On an impulse she rose from the seat, her movements abrupt, and with her head bent against the wind and her hands pushed deep into her pockets she walked the length of the Santa Monica pier, which was now so entirely deserted it looked desolate, even forbidding, in its emptiness.

When she arrived at the farthermost tip where the turbulent waves lashed at the exposed underpinnings, she paused and leaned against the railing. Once again her eyes were riveted on the ocean curling out towards the dim horizon. There, on that far indistinct rim, where sea and sky merged in a smudge of limitless grey, a great liner bobbed along like a child’s toy, had been turned into an object of insignificance by the vastness of nature.

We are all like that ship, the woman said inwardly, so fragile, so inconsequential in the overall scheme of things. Although do any of us truly believe that, blinded as we are by our self-importance? In our arrogance we all think we are unique, invincible, immune to mortality and above the law of nature. But we are not, and that is the only law, inexorable and unchanging.