Barbara Taylor Bradford - Letter from a Stranger

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2011

LETTER FROM A STRANGER. Copyright © Barbara Taylor Bradford 2011. 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 e-books.

Barbara Taylor Bradford 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

ISBN: 9780007304134

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.

Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2011 ISBN: 9780007304226

Version: 2017-11-16

Again for my husband Bob, and as always

with my love

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Istanbul: April 2004

Prologue

The letter, contemplated and worried about for such a long…

Part One

The Letter

One

The view from the second-floor terrace was panoramic, and breathtaking.

Two

Later that afternoon, when Daisy was taking a nap, Justine…

Three

The moment they entered Richard’s glass-enclosed studio, Justine sat down…

Four

Once Richard had left with Daisy, Justine walked slowly down…

Five

‘You look great,’ Joanne Brandon exclaimed, walking across the worn…

Six

Tita brought coffee to the drawing room, and then disappeared.

Part Two

The Search

Seven

Justine recognized Iffet Özgönül at once. It helped, of course,…

Eight

A voice filled the room. A man’s voice. Melodic. Slightly…

Nine

They were in the middle of the teeming city in…

Ten

The man cut quite a swathe as he walked through…

Eleven

Istanbul. City of contrasts. European. Oriental. Exotic, Justine wrote in…

Twelve

Several hours later, Justine and Iffet boarded the sleek white…

Part Three

The Reunion

Thirteen

The driver had turned the boat around, and now it…

Fourteen

Justine, who had been frustrated all week, felt frustrated once…

Fifteen

The afternoon tea party was a jolly event, and everyone…

Sixteen

Michael Dalton was sitting on the terrace of the Çiragan…

Seventeen

The moment they were alone, Gabriele took hold of Justine’s…

Eighteen

It was a beautiful night, the midnight-blue sky sprinkled with…

Nineteen

‘And that, Richard, is Gran’s story of the estrangement, and…

Part Four

Coup de Foudre

Twenty

Michael sat down next to Justine on the garden seat,…

Twenty-One

‘This is the most beautiful fabric,’ Justine said, looking at…

Twenty-Two

Michael was waiting for her at the jetty as they…

Twenty-Three

Sitting back, Justine stared at herself in the mirror and…

Twenty-Four

It was one o’clock in the morning when Michael and…

Twenty-Five

They lay together side by side, catching their breath, both…

Part Five

The Mystery

Twenty-Six

Gabriele was, by nature, an early riser, and on this…

Twenty-Seven

Anita and Gabriele saw them off at the jetty, waving…

Twenty-Eight

Anita was sitting on Gabriele’s terrace, studying a floor plan,…

Twenty-Nine

The three women walked across the terrace and into Gabriele’s…

Thirty

After Anita had retreated to her own yali to rest,…

Thirty-One

Later that afternoon, Justine went out to the gardens to…

Thirty-Two

Once they had finished tea, which had been a bit…

Thirty-Three

The following afternoon, once Gabriele was ready to leave for…

Thirty-Four

Justine remained on the bed, trying to rest. Exhausted from…

Thirty-Five

Justine was about to pick up her grandmother’s book when…

Thirty-Six

The moment Justine walked into the bedroom she picked up…

Thirty-Seven

‘So tell me,’ Michael said, when Justine remained silent at…

Thirty-Eight

After supper on the terrace, Justine returned to her bedroom.

Thirty-Nine

As she returned to her bedroom, Justine made the decision…

Forty

After filling the kettle and putting it on the stove,…

Forty-One

‘It’s me, Rich,’ Justine said. ‘Is this a bad time?

Forty-Two

Light drifting in through the gauzy curtains awakened Justine early.

Forty-Three

After her shower, Justine dressed and went for a walk…

Forty-Four

Although Justine was longing to continue reading about her grandmother’s…

Forty-Five

Later that same day Justine settled herself in the chair…

Forty-Six

Knocking on the door brought Justine’s head up. She called,…

Forty-Seven

Although she didn’t want to stop reading, Justine knew she…

Forty-Eight

She was almost at the end of her grandmother’s memories…

Forty-Nine

‘Why did you come back early, Gran?’ Justine asked, looking…

Fifty

Anita was waiting for them in the gold room. As…

Fifty-One

Michael stood staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, thinking…

Fifty-Two

The little girl walking towards her wore a yellow muslin…

Fifty-Three

Justine and Richard sat together in the small lounge area…

Epilogue

The Litchfield Hills, Connecticut: July 2004

Epilogue

It was July the Fourth and glorious. The perfect day…

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford

About the Publisher

Istanbul April 2004

The letter, contemplated and worried about for such a long time, was finally written. But it was not mailed. Instead it was put in a drawer of the desk so that it could be thought about, the words carefully reconsidered before that last irretrievable step was taken.

The following morning the letter was read once more, corrected and locked away for the second time. On the third day it was perused again and the words deftly edited. Satisfied that everything had been said clearly and concisely, the writer copied the final draft onto a fresh piece of writing paper. This was folded, sealed in an envelope, addressed and affixed with the correct stamps. The words AIR MAIL were written in the top left-hand corner of the envelope, which was then propped against the antique French clock on the desk.

A short while later, the young son of the cook was summoned to the upstairs sitting room. The envelope was handed to him, instructions given, and he was told to take it to the post office at once.

The boy left the villa immediately, waving to the gardener as he trotted through the iron gates of the old-style Turkish yali. This was situated on the Asiatic side of Istanbul, on the shores of the Bosphorus, in Üsküdar, the largest and most historical district of the city.