‘It is difficult to put this book into any category except that it is one of those friendly books that should be on one’s bedside table, where it will scare away into serenity the bogeys that sometimes come in the lonely hours.’ — Times Literary SupplementIn 1939, Malachi Whitaker was living with her family in the Yorkshire manse she had coveted since childhood. After years of poverty, her life of comfort — and success as a writer — had been hard-won. With war loom...