A Strong Hand to Hold. Anne Bennett
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ANNE BENNETT
A Strong Hand to Hold
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
This edition published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Copyright © Anne Bennett 1999
First published in paperback in 1999 by HEADLINE BOOK PUBLISHING
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2014
Cover photographs © Gordon Crabb/Alison Eldred (woman); Doreen Kilfeatner/Trevillion Images (girl); Mary Evans Picture Library (houses); Shutterstock.com (airplanes, hand)
Anne Bennett 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 e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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: 9780007547760
Ebook Edition © July 2014 ISBN: 9780007547777
Version: 2017-09-08
This book publishes in August 2014, the same month that my youngest daughter, Tamsin, gets married, so this book is dedicated with much love to Tamsin and Mark. xxx
Table of Contents
Birmingham, November 1940
‘Now are you all right, Mother?’ Jenny O’Leary asked, placing the breakfast tray with the pot of tea and toast spread with the last of the jam ration across her mother’s knees as she sat before the fire.
Norah looked at her daughter with a pained expression – the one Jenny was well used to. The older woman’s furrowed brow caused deep lines to run down her face; the bun into which she had made Jenny scrape her grey hair appeared tighter than ever; and her mouth was set in a thin line. Ignoring the question, she whined, ‘The house is perishing. Put some more coal on the fire.’
Jenny suppressed a sigh, knowing she’d be late for work if she didn’t get going soon. ‘It won’t help