The Ship of Brides: A Novel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Look out for Jojo’s new book, Paris for One and Other Stories, coming October 18, 2016.
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Me Before You, After You, and One Plus One, in an earlier work available in the U.S. for the first time, a post-WWII story of the war brides who crossed the seas by the thousands to face their unknown futures.
1946. World War II has ended and all over the world, young women are beginning to fulfill the promises made to the men they wed in wartime.
In Sydney, Australia, four women join 650 other war brides on an extraordinary voyage to England—aboard HMS Victoria, which still carries not just arms and aircraft but a thousand naval officers. Rules are strictly enforced, from the aircraft carrier’s captain down to the lowliest young deckhand. But the men and the brides will find their lives intertwined despite the Navy’s ironclad sanctions. And for Frances Mackenzie, the complicated young woman whose past comes back to haunt her far from home, the journey will change her life in ways she never could have predicted—forever.
said, and held out a hand. Mrs. Trevor, her eyes already on the bottom of the gangplank, distractedly shook it and then, hoisting her case to her hip, made her way down, wobbling in her high heels. The noise was deafening. On board the women’s voices rose in a swell of anticipation, their heads bobbing as they fought to catch a glimpse of a loved one in the crowd. Around the bottom of the gangplank, several marines now stood firm, holding back the crowds pressing forward to meet them. On the
a Paris magazine. She must have had them flown over. “Well, you know she was engaged to that pilot? The one with the . . . unfortunate mustache? No? Well . . . he wasn’t five weeks in Malaya when she took up with an American soldier.” She lowered her voice. “Awful man. So coarse. You know what he used to say about Melbourne? ‘Half as big as New York City’s largest cemetery—and twice as dead.’ Ugh. Used to repeat it endlessly, as if he were being terribly original every time.” “So what
She blinked several times, then let out a deep, shuddering breath. Irene’s hand—she was still clutching the handkerchief—was shaking. As Avice looked away from it, the officer had turned and, as if grateful for the means of escape, was walking briskly, with purpose, down the passageway. “She’s just a kid!” Frances yelled. But the woman was gone. 11 Congratulations to Mrs. H. Skinner and Mrs. H. Dill who both have wedding anniversaries this week. Mrs. Skinner has been married two years and
him to make me better than I am. Outside, the traffic was picking up. Somewhere below the open window a car door slammed and a man shouted insistently, “Davy, Davy,” apparently unheeded. “So,” she said, disentangling their legs and sliding round so that she was leaning over him, some small part of her still shocked at the feel of his naked skin against hers. “You really, really love me, do you?” He smiled at her, his hair matted against the pillow. She thought she’d never seen a more handsome
of the passage lights. “I heard voices,” she said, conscious of her state of undress. She grappled behind her for her wrap, and flung it on, tying it tightly around her. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” his voice was low and urgent, “but there’s been an accident downstairs. I was wondering— Look, we need your help.” The dance had ended in several unofficial gatherings in various parts of the ship. One had emigrated to the sweaty confines of the rear port-side engine room, where a stoker had been