The news of Penny Halsall’s illness came as a great shock. I had been her editor for a number of years at HarperCollins and she was one of my favourite authors. I’d worked with Penny both on the books that she wrote as Annie Groves and on some of the ones that she had written as Penny Jordan – she really was a joy and was much loved by everyone here. Her books were special, they were full of heart and it was impossible not to fall in love with the characters she created. It felt like a great honour to be working on her novels; her books had sold millions and millions of copies all around the globe and she was a legend. It was such a thrill when a new, complete manuscript landed in my inbox and I was eagerly anticipating the next book that she was due to send to me in a few months’ time.
Penny had been working on the Annie Groves Article Row novels, all of which are set in and around the Holborn area of London and all featuring the hopes and heartaches of Tilly, Dulcie, Sally, Olive and Agnes. We had just published My Sweet Valentine, the third in a planned series of five books, it had been a bestseller and there was lots of excitement about the future. Penny and I had recently had a long and fruitful conversation about what she was planning next for the girls of Article Row and I couldn’t wait to read the next instalment. Penny was completely rooted in her characters and had very definite ideas about where they were all going. She spent an awful lot of time researching all of her books and one of my abiding memories of Penny is watching her head off determinedly on a research mission to Holborn after a business lunch in town. Penny constantly thought about her characters and was always playing around with ideas about what the war would hold in store for them all. I was full of anticipation.
When her sister, Prue, broke the news about Penny’s advanced illness, it came completely out of the blue. Penny was such a consummate professional and had never given any indication that she was ill, despite living with cancer for some time. There was little chance to digest this information properly when the devastating news came shortly after that she had died over the Christmas holidays in late December 2011.
At Penny’s funeral, the church was completely packed, not just with family but also with fellow writers, friends, fans and publishing colleagues. But despite the sadness there was laughter too. Penny loved a party and when her favourite song was played – The Maverick’s, ‘I Just Want to Dance the Night Away’ – we were reminded of what a wonderfully happy and positive person she was.
Once back at my desk in London, my mind turned to the difficult issue of what would happen now. My Sweet Valentine was in the middle of the series and Annie Groves’ fans would be desperate to know what was going to happen to those much-loved characters. I had many long talks with Penny’s brilliant agent, Teresa Chris, and both of us agreed that Penny would have wanted nothing more than to have the series completed – she really had put her heart and soul into every page and it would have meant so much to her. Teresa approached Penny’s wonderful sister, Prue, and to our delight, she was a keen supporter of getting the series completed. She allowed me the great privilege of access to Penny’s files, so early one spring morning in 2012, I made the trip up to Prue’s house in Cheshire to see what I could find. We already had some idea of what Penny had in mind, but it wasn’t a complete picture and I knew there were some big gaps. Penny couldn’t have left things in better shape – not only was there a large chunk of manuscript in her files but there were also detailed notes and plot outlines that would help us to complete the puzzle. Penny was such a trouper!
The last piece to be put in place was to find somebody who would be able to marry all of the pieces together and to turn all of this into a narrative that was worthy of Penny. We were almost running out of ideas when Teresa discovered the writer Sheila Riley. Not only did Sheila have something of Penny’s style, but she also hailed from Penny’s beloved Merseyside – without her, this book could never have existed – thank you, Sheila. We were also lucky enough to have the services of Susan Opie, copy editor extraordinaire, and someone who knows the Annie Groves books inside out.
So, some months later and after quite a lot of effort from many marvellous people, I’m sitting here writing this and explaining how this book, and the one to follow it, have come about.
Penny was an amazing person for so many reasons. There was an old-fashioned dignity and modesty about her, and one of the reasons she was so successful was that she knew, instinctively, that although life can sometimes deal you a rotten hand, with guts, determination and plenty of love and kindness, everyone has the power to change their fate. Only a Mother Knows and A Christmas Promise (publishing autumn 2013) really deliver the authentic Annie Groves experience, and I know that you, Reader, won’t be disappointed.
HarperCollins would like to extend their heartfelt thanks to Sheila Riley, Teresa Chris, Susan Opie and especially to Prue Burke and the Halsall estate for their tremendous help in finishing the Article Row series. They have all done Penny proud.
Kate Bradley
Editor
ONE
June 1942
‘… So you let her swan off with her young man … on her own … without as much as a by-your-leave? Well! I must say.’
‘I’m very well aware of what you must say, Nancy,’ Olive sighed with thinning patience, honed from years of living next door to the local busybody, wondering how much more carping she could take from her next-door neighbour, whose watchful eyes and razor-sharp tongue made her a woman the rest of the street avoided at all costs.
Olive had noticed lately how her other neighbours dipped back behind their front doors when Nancy was at large. However, she didn’t feel the need to worry about what they all thought or did; Olive was far too busy minding her own business and getting on with her war-work, collecting and sending parcels out to the troops from the Red Cross shop as well as her fire-watching duties and driving the WVS van to unfortunate beleaguered bombed-out victims who were so traumatised half the time they didn’t even know their own name. And even though the war had worn her saintly patience a little thin it didn’t give her the right to take it out on Nancy. Olive knew that she might have become a bit quick tempered of late, but with the war – no, that was no excuse, she realised. Too many people were blaming their shortcomings on the war and she didn’t want to be one of them.
With a weary sigh Olive, who didn’t have the luxury of standing around all day indulging in idle gossip, made to move but the other woman seemed to be bursting with things to say. Given that every time she left the house Nancy was out in a flash, Olive wondered if her neighbour kept a permanent lookout from behind her front-room curtains but she didn’t voice her thoughts. Live and let live, that was her rule in life – and it usually stood her in good stead where her next-door neighbour was concerned.
She had to silently congratulate the woman on her tenacity; she would have been a boon behind enemy lines as she missed nothing. Olive smiled to herself. Nancy must have that new radar they were talking about on the wireless this morning, the Radio Detection and Ranging system that had been brought out last year and was, according to the Home Service, the country’s best chance of winning the war in the Pacific. Olive, her mind wandering a little, was surprised that it had been made public as so much was hidden from them.
Nancy must have the system installed on her wall, because Olive could not make a move towards her own sandstone scrubbed step without the woman being out waiting for a chat. No matter how much the posters told them to ‘Keep Mum and Save Dad’ her loose-lipped neighbour still got her twopenny-worth in. But this time she was not there just to pass on some gossip, she was trying to make a point, and Olive wanted no part of it.
Bridling now, something she hadn’t experienced much before the war, Olive suspected Nancy wanted to talk about her daughter, Tilly, who had
