GIRL WITH SECRETS

CAROL RIVERS

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DEDICATION

Hello my dear readers! Many of you know me via social media and we have become close chums, but I rarely meet you personally, especially now Covid 19 has changed our lives (much like Daisy’s life was changed in 1940). But that’s not to say I don’t think of every one of you as you read my book, whether paper or electronic or listening with Audio. You see, I write directly to you because I know what interests you and touches your hearts, just as it does mine. I know you’ve loved and lost. I know you’ve grieved. I know that you helped someone, somewhere at a point in your lives when you needed help yourself. That’s what happened in both the World Wars; people put others before themselves and even gave their lives to enrich and sustain others. I want to tell of these people - of you - of us and our families, and add to the social history archives for the next generation to read and realise that we really did the best we could in troubled times. The wars didn’t defeat our spirits, nor will Covid. We are resilient and we have the capacity and compassion to love beyond measure.

So, with all my love, I dedicate this book to you - to us - and to our future.

Fond hugs as always, Carol XX

EPIGRAPH

Remembering with love and eternal gratitude Patsie Duggan, his thirteen-year-old sister Maureen and the team of brave children and teenagers who saved many from the flames and carnage of the blitz over 76 terrifying nights of bombardment on London’s East End 1940. They were better known as the “Dead End Kids” and saved many lives while losing some of their own. Forever in our hearts and stories and never forgotten.

CONTENTS

About Girl with Secrets

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Epilogue

Reviews

Also by Carol Rivers

Excerpt of Christmas Child

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Excerpt of Christmas to Come

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Copyright

ABOUT GIRL WITH SECRETS

Nine-year-old Daisy Purbright is a country girl at heart. Together with beloved brother Bobby, they’ve enjoyed the endless freedoms of rural England. But when her entrepreneur father gambles the family’s fortunes on a speculative investment in London’s docklands, little does he realise the catastrophic mistake he is making.

The Purbrights attempt to settle to a new life in the East End but the whisperings of war grow louder. Then, one late afternoon in September 1940, Adolf Hitler conducts a paralysing bombardment on London.

Life changes dramatically and closely guarded secrets begin to threaten the Purbrights’ happiness. As war tightens its grip on the country, can Daisy stay loyal to her friends and family during one of the most fateful events of the 20th century?

CHAPTER 1

London, Isle of Dogs, 1938

ONE FROST-WHITE MORNING at the beginning of November, when the first scent of Christmas clung sweetly to the high ceilings of the spacious mid-Victorian villa, nine-year-old Daisy Purbright woke, as usual, long before the rest of the household.

For a few moments she listened to the sound of her brother, ten-year-old Bobby, snoring softly under the covers of the camp bed. Only a tussle of white-blond hair, the same shade as her own, showed on the pillow. Whereas Bobby had short, determined curls, Daisy’s hair was straight and silky without a bend or swerve in any direction. Pops had informed her that although there were only two surviving senior male Purbrights, himself and his brother Uncle Ed, a noteworthy characteristic of many previous Purbrights was snowy hair, arctic blue eyes and robust complexion.

Curious to discover what the new day held she crept from her bed and tiptoed to the landing. Here, a little shivery in her nightgown, she pressed her ear against the door of their older brother’s bedroom. All was silent. Daisy suspected that seventeen-year-old Matt would be lost in dreamland wooing his drippy sweetheart, Amelia Collins.

She adored her teenage brother, but was also a tiny jot jealous of Amelia who lived in Poplar, a bicycle ride away. Somehow Amelia had spun her web and Matt had fallen into it, mesmerised, just like the moths that flew too close to the Tilley lamp flame.

Daisy loved her two brothers and father Nicholas with a passion. Pops was tall and handsome though he walked with a slight limp, a Great War injury. Matt was just as handsome, a younger mirror image of their father. Consequently, Daisy was thoroughly spoiled as the only daughter of the Purbright family. Her mother, Florence Purbright, posed more of a challenge, for Daisy had not yet decided where her true loyalties lay. Mother was beautiful and elegant. However, she dished out the discipline which was a definite minus. On the plus side, she was an exceptional cook and had long ago figured out Daisy’s weak spot. Basically, her stomach.

‘To poach or steam an egg might seem simple,’ Mother had once explained. ‘But your masterpiece might turn as hard as nails with overcooking.’

And oh, how Daisy enjoyed Mother’s eggs! Her mouth would water at the soft succulence and sprinkling of pepper on the sunny crown. Mother would smile knowingly, as if sharing a secret, somewhat in line with the secrets she shared with Daisy’s father, but, Daisy suspected, of quite a different nature.

Daisy was not only blessed with exceptional inquisitiveness but a keen ear too. She was eager

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