The Forgotten Village. Lorna Cook

      

      THE FORGOTTEN VILLAGE

      Lorna Cook

       Copyright

      Published by AVON

      A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

      Copyright © Lorna Cook 2019

      Cover design by Becky Glibbery © HarperCollins Publishers 2019

      Cover photograph © Shutterstock

      Lorna Cook 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 non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook 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: 9780008321857

      Ebook Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008321864

      Version: 2019-05-29

       Dedication

       For Stephen

       Thanks for doing everything and being everything.

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Prologue: Tyneham, Dorset, December 1943

      Chapter 1: Dorset, July 2018

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Tyneham, December 1943

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

       Chapter 8: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 11: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 12: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 15: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 23: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 26: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Chapter 34

       Chapter 35: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 36: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 37: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 38: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 39: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 40

       Chapter 41

       Chapter 42: Tyneham, December 1943

       Chapter 43: Dorset, July 2018

       Chapter 44

       Chapter 45: Requisition Day, December 1943

       Chapter 46: Dorset, Autumn 2019

       Epilogue: Scotland, December 1948

       Author’s Note

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

       PROLOGUE

       Tyneham, Dorset, December 1943

      Lady Veronica stood shivering in front of the crowd of over two hundred faces in the village square. She desperately hoped none of them had heard the events of last night. Each one of the villagers was a familiar face, and each looked expectantly at her and the handsome man at her side, who was gripping her hand so tightly it hurt. He was expected to say something; a few words of encouragement were all the villagers needed to assure them that they were doing the right thing. It was something they could be proud of – leaving the village, giving it over to the war effort for the troops to use for training. They were doing something that would go down in the history books as an act of incredible sacrifice for the war and for their country.

      ‘Sir Albert?’ the vicar prompted, indicating it was time to speak.

      The man at her side nodded. He stepped forward a few paces and Veronica moved with him. He gripped her hand tighter. Her fingers felt the thick gold band of the wedding ring he was wearing and she shuddered.

      Feeling dizzy, she put her free hand to the back of her head to touch the large lump that had formed. She had managed to wash away most of the blood – of which there had been plenty – but a few traces of thick, oozing red liquid still appeared on her fingers when she pulled them out of her hair. She wiped it off on the black fabric of her dress. Black for mourning. She felt it appropriate