Blurb
Late in 1916, in a London menaced by the threat of German attack, Ivy Drummond is rescued from an air raid by a stranger who knows both when and where the bombs will fall. Will Rawlings – sent home from the front and suffering from shellshock – is tortured by nightmares and hallucinations. Will believes he can see the future. Ivy believes he needs medical help.
But when Will’s visions start coming true Ivy is torn between family, duty, honour and love. And Will is keeping secrets which threaten to pull their relationship apart….
Against the backdrop of real events, The Postman’s Daughter tells the story of two people left behind by the Great War, fighting their own personal battle for happiness.
Excerpt
A hand shot out of the darkness, grabbed my elbow and arrested my fall. “You shouldn’t be here,” said a voice, overly loudly and with an arrogant tone I didn’t care for.
“I’m quite aware of that, thank you,” I retorted, and tried to wrest my arm back, but the fingers of my unknown assailant were pinched tight. “If you would kindly stop breaking my elbow and tell me how to get to South Street, I’ll be on my way.” My mother always said I was blunt, by which she generally meant rude, but I hadn’t paid her any attention since I was twelve years old and I usually spoke to people exactly how I wanted.
The man in the darkness did not let me go. “South Street? That’s about two miles in the other direction. Are you stupid as well as lost?”
“If you don’t let go of my arm I’ll be stupid, lost and calling for help.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“You’ve said that already, although it’s clearly alright for you to be here, lurking around at night assaulting young women.”
“They’re coming,” he said.
I instantly felt sorry for him, and slightly guilty for the rudeness. I couldn’t tell much about him apart from that he was taller than me, older than me and also from London, but I’d seen enough young men back from the front by now to know that the damage wasn’t always on the outside.
“Alright,” I said, straightening up. “If they’re coming, where should I be?”
I could hear an exhalation and the man bent closer as his fingers relaxed. “About two miles in the other direction, I would think. Come on.”
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