Chapter 7
9.30 a.m.
Emmeline rubbed her fingers over and over the pieces of the letter in her pocket. It was just a letter. She must believe that. And it could have come from anywhere. He didn’t have to be close by – or even in the country for that matter. Anyone could have sent it. It could have been a sick joke. She squeezed the pieces of paper, knowing full well that she could lie to anyone except herself. She stood upright and breathed deeply as she looked at her reflection in the small mirror in the foyer. The fear still showed, even though the rest had changed in the last three decades. She would be unrecognisable to him now. Her hair had greyed far too early, and her face was much more sunken than it had been before the war. She didn’t use make-up anymore.
She must put this lette
