The Island Villa_The perfect feel good summer read Read online

  I touched her face. ‘I know you do, kiddo,’ I said, then I took her bag and wheeled it towards the waiting taxi.

  On the drive to Marisal, she exclaimed at all that she saw, her eyes taking in the sweep of the ocean, the low walls that threaded across the terrain, the grassy farmland, till we entered the area of Can Morraig, and she saw the villa close to the sea, through the taxi window.

  ‘This is amazing, Mum,’ she gasped as we got out of the taxi and she stood in front of the low garden gate, looking up at the villa as I had done when I arrived.

  ‘Geez, what an improvement on the pictures you sent.’

  ‘It’s just a bit of paint and a tidy-up – but I’m glad it’s looking better,’ I said, opening the door to show her round and take her suitcase into her room.

  It was still sparsely furnished but clean and neat, with its vase of wildflowers on top of the old dresser and its small window offering a dazzling view of the ocean.

  Sage had a shower while I went into the kitchen to make sure everything was all right. I’d bought candles, and soon Big Jim, Sue and Isla would be coming over for dinner – and my first official shabbat. And then, tomorrow, I’d take Sage to meet Maria.

  After her shower we caught up, and Sage watched in bemusement as I got dinner started. I was making a new fish dish that Maria had taught me, and the kitchen was full of the scent of turmeric, tomatoes and lemon butter.

  ‘I can’t believe this is you, Mum,’ said Sage, staring at me. ‘Cooking!’

  I laughed. ‘Well, I’ve been learning, you see, and I’ve had some practice.’

  ‘Wow, Mum. Dad would be proud.’

  I swallowed, my eyes smarting. Did that ever stop? Did you ever hear his name and not want to fall apart? After a pause, when I had put myself back together, I said, ‘I think you’re right.’ I went on, ‘You don’t mind that my friends are coming – the band, and my friend, Emmanuel, you’re sure? They’re pretty easy-going and I’m sure they won’t mind if I cancel—’

  ‘No! I want to meet them, they sound amazing. And tell me, this Emmanuel – is he going to be someone special?’

  I shook my head. ‘He’s a friend. That’s all.’

  She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. ‘Maybe some day.’

  She smiled. ‘As long as there’s a some day.’

  I looked at her. ‘You’re incredible, you know that?’ I didn’t know how I’d been so lucky as to have a daughter like her. Most other children would be furious at the prospect. I would be if I were in her shoes. ‘Wouldn’t you hate it if I moved on?’

  ‘You’re forty-five, Mum, it’s not like what happened to you was fair. And I wouldn’t see it as moving on – Dad was the love of your life. I’d see it as you trying to hang on.’

  I bit my lip, then wiped away a tear. ‘When did you start speaking in bloody Hallmark cards?’

  She laughed. ‘I know, right?’

  After dinner, the band treated my daughter to a private show and I realised something as I looked around me: when Maria had taken me under her wing, she had told me about the family that had been left behind. She said that traditions were the things that linked you to them, and without these things you could lose the sense of where you’d come from. Maybe it wasn’t too late to introduce them to a new generation, I thought. Perhaps that’s how they lived on.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  I took Sage to meet Maria the next morning. We walked into the aromatic kitchen where the old woman was busy cooking, and as soon as she saw Sage she gasped. ‘This must be Sage – the doctor – or soon to be!’

  Sage grinned. ‘That’s the plan – it’s lovely to meet you at last. I have heard so much about you.’

  ‘As have I about you. Sit, sit,’ she said, inviting Sage to take a seat on one of the chairs not occupied by the cat, who was as usual basking in the scents of the kitchen.

  We spoke for hours, about Cesca and Esperanza, filling Sage in on their story.

  ‘But what happened to her – to Esperanza?’ I asked. ‘Was she pregnant that night when Don Santiago died?’

  ‘No – she married again. She married another one of Benito’s cousins – another escapee. Together, she, Cesca and Esperanza and Salvador de Rimbaud set up a network that helped other chuetas to flee to safety, providing a safe haven for them to stay.

  ‘It was she who wrote down her story – and passed it on to all of us, as a lesson, I think,’ she said, getting up and coming back with an old, leather-bound journal and handing it to me.

  ‘It is how her story survived, that and because we kept it alive by telling it. Maybe now it can keep going, with you two.’

  Sage looked at me, then squeezed my hand. ‘She was the first writer in the family.’

  I touched the journal in awe, seeing her words, in her beautiful script, and felt my eyes grow moist.

  ‘I want you to keep it.’

  ‘Me?’ I said looking at it in shock. Maria nodded. ‘It belongs with you – the next generation; it belongs with Marisal. So we never forget again who we are.’

  I nodded and thanked her, touched beyond belief.

  When the sky was painted gold and we were sitting outside, the scent of oranges and lemons perfuming the ocean air, I showed Sage what I’d got from the jewellers.

  ‘Open it.’

  Inside were two necklaces, each with a heart-shaped pendant, a tiny gemstone in their centres.

  ‘What’s this, Mum?’

  ‘It’s made from Dad’s ring.’

  Her fingers shook as she touched it. ‘I wanted you to have a part of it,’ I said. ‘A piece of him for us to carry in our hearts.’

  Her dark eyes filled with tears. ‘That’s beautiful, Mum.’

  ‘I think your dad would have wanted that too.’

  She swallowed, dashed away the tears. Then I took out something else from the bag at my feet. ‘Okay, now the next one is going to be tough.’

  She looked up, and then her face crumpled as she saw the urn, recognised what it was.

  ‘It’s time for this, I think.’

  She closed her eyes, then nodded.

  ‘Are you sure about this, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, I think so – I knew it had to be us, when we were together.’

  I touched the necklace, my half of James’s ring, and thought of what he’d told me – that I’d know when to do it. I hadn’t thought I’d ever be able to do this, but I was ready now because I’d realised something over these last few months – thanks to Maria – that the people you love never truly leave you.

  I opened up the urn and scattered the ashes to the wind, where he became a part of Marisal, like me and Sage, a part of the wind and sky; though a part of him would always be, as Maria had said, here, beating inside my own heart.

  If you lost your heart to THE ISLAND VILLA get ready to be captivated by SUMMER AT SEAFALL COTTAGE, a beautiful Cornish love story of hidden secrets.

  Get it now!

  Summer at Seafall Cottage

  The perfect summer romance full of sunshine and secrets

  Get swept away along the beautiful Cornish coast, where a love story in a long forgotten diary has the power to change one woman’s life forever.

  Victoria Langley’s world crumbles when her husband leaves, but she knows exactly where to go to mend her broken heart. The rugged shores of Cornwall will be her perfect sanctuary.

  In the quaint, little village of Tregollan, nestled in the sea cliffs, Victoria is drawn to Seafall Cottage, covered in vines and gracefully falling apart. Inside she finds a diary full of secrets, from 1905.

  Victoria is determined to unravel the diary’s mystery, but the residents of Tregollan are tight-lipped about Tilly Asprey, the cottage’s last owner. Just as she reaches a dead end, Victoria meets Adam Waters, the lawyer handling the cottage’s sale. He’s handsome, charming, and has a missing piece of the puzzle.

  Tilly’s diary tells a devastating love story that mirrors Victoria’s own. Can Victoria learn from Tilly’s mistake
s, and give herself a second chance at love? Or is history doomed to repeat itself?

  An unputdownable and gorgeously romantic read about lost love and new beginnings set in the green hills and rocky cliffs of the breath-taking Cornish coast. Perfect for fans of Phillipa Ashley, Emma Burstall and Liz Fenwick.

  Order here!

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  Also by Lily Graham

  The Island Villa

  Summer at Seafall Cottage

  The Summer Escape

  Christmas at Hope Cottage

  A Cornish Christmas

  A Letter from Lily

  Thank you so much for reading The Island Villa. I really hope you enjoyed it. Formentera is a special place, and the research conducted by people like Gloria Mound into the history of a supposed secret Jewish community there is a fascinating one.

  If you enjoyed this story, I’d so appreciate it if you could leave a review; it really helps to spread the word! If you’re wondering what’s next, I’m busy working on my next novel, set in Paris, featuring an old bookshop and a secret that goes back to the Second World War.

  If you’d like to find out more please join my newsletter www.bookouture.com/lily-graham, or follow me on Facebook and Twitter and my website www.lilygraham.net

  The Summer Escape

  An uplifting romantic summer read

  Amongst the beautiful olive groves and sea-front tavernas, summer has arrived on the sun-drenched island of Crete.

  After losing the love of her life, Ria’s life has been on hold. So when her boss becomes completely unbearable she makes the snap decision to run away to the Greek island of Crete, armed only with her passport.

  When Ria finds herself working for eccentric novelist Caroline, she meets handsome vineyard owner Tom. He’s charming, mysterious and Ria starts to wonder if it’s not just the beautiful Greek island that she’s falling for.

  But as Ria gets to know Tom better, she uncovers a tangled web of secrets. What is he hiding? Ria has some secrets of her own. Can she open up to Tom and learn to live again?

  This summer, escape to the sun with this charming and emotional story about starting over and grabbing happiness with both hands.

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  Christmas at Hope Cottage

  A magical feel-good romance novel

  In the little village of Whistling, with its butterscotch cottages and rolling green hills, snow is beginning to fall. Christmas is coming, and Emma Halloway is on her way home.

  When thirty-year-old food writer Emma Halloway gets dumped then knocked off her bike, she’s broken in more ways than one, and returns to her family’s cosy cottage in the Yorkshire Dales. Emma hasn’t been back in some time, running from her crazy relatives and her childhood sweetheart, Jack Allen.

  Emma’s grandmother is determined to bake her back to health and happiness, as the Halloways have done for generations. Surrounded by old friends and warm cinnamon buns, Emma starts to believe in her family’s special talents for healing again. But then in walks Jack with his sparkling hazel eyes, stirring up the family feud between them.

  As the twinkly lights are strung between the streetlamps, Emma remembers just why she fell for Jack in the first place... and why a Halloway should never date an Allen.

  The infuriating new lodger, Sandro, doesn’t believe anyone should have to choose between love and family. With a little bit of Christmas magic, can Emma and Jack find a way to be together, or will Emma find herself heartbroken once more?

  An utterly gorgeous Christmas romance about the importance of family, freshly baked biscuits, and learning to trust your heart. Perfect for fans of Phillipa Ashley, Debbie Johnson and Debbie Macomber.

  Order here!

  A Cornish Christmas

  A cosy Christmas romance to curl up with by the fire

  Nestled in the Cornish village of Cloudsea, sits Sea Cottage – the perfect place for some Christmas magic …

  At last Ivy is looking forward to Christmas. She and her husband Stuart have moved to their perfect little cottage by the sea - a haven alongside the rugged cliffs that look out to the Atlantic Ocean. She’s pregnant with their much-longed for first baby and for the first time, since the death of her beloved mother, Ivy feels like things are going to be alright.

  But there is trouble ahead. It soon emerges that Stuart has been keeping secrets from Ivy, and suddenly she misses her mum more than ever.

  When Ivy stumbles across a letter from her mother hidden in an old writing desk, secrets from the past come hurtling into the present. But could her mother’s words help Ivy in her time of need? Ivy is about to discover that the future is full of unexpected surprises and Christmas at Sea Cottage promises to be one to remember.

  This Christmas warm your heart and escape to the Cornish coast for an uplifting story of love, secrets and new beginnings that you will remember for many Christmases to come.

  Order here!

  Author’s Note

  The idea of a secret Jewish community on the island of Formentera was popularised by researcher Gloria Mound, who believed that one existed from around the fifteenth century, after the Spanish expulsion order of the Jews during the Inquisition, up until the Spanish Civil War.

  Over the years some convincing evidence for this appeared to come to light, including what seemed to be the presence of a secret synagogue in a building in the Can Morraig area, where certain Hebrew documents were discovered. It remained for many years a powerful, positive story of Jewish survival.

  Alas, according to historian Martin Davies, the origins of the building have been dated to the nineteenth century, and modern historians now believe that the Hebrew scrolls were brought over from Majorca during the 1930s, when the island can conclusively be linked to helping Jewish exiles during the Second World War.

  It cannot however be said that there was no Jewish presence on the island before then, or that there definitely wasn’t a secret community that existed there as for a long period it lay mostly abandoned. In this tale, I have blended fiction with fact – there were persecuted chuetas (secret Jews) who had been forced to convert, who fled the uprisings in Majorca as well as a Moorish sloop vessel containing two Nuñez cousins who were said to have been captured by Ibicenco corsairs. While Jewish pirates existed, it is believed that they would not have operated within the Mediterranean, however, according to historian Martin Davies.

  Whether or not it is based on myth, more than fact, the idea that a secret community existed, one that protected its inhabitants from the Inquisitors, as was previously claimed, deserved to be shared.

  Acknowledgements

  I couldn’t have written this novel without my incredible editor, Lydia Vassar-Smith, who held my hand and patiently guided me through to the other side as I got lost in the rabbit warren of research and self-doubt – thank you so much for all your support and help with this, pulling the threads together and coaxing it into existence, and as ever for your belief and support for my stories!

  Thanks as ever to my husband and family. When books are being written in our household, I have a tendency to retreat into the writing cave and nothing much else gets done, so thank you for keeping the home fires burning, and making sure everything still stood.

  To the team at Bookouture – I couldn’t do it without you.

  I spent a lot of time researching this novel; to be honest the rabbit warren of the past was a tangle that I couldn’t get out of for months. As soon as I went to write a single word I discovered how much more I had to learn and would just freeze.

  For placing the novel in time, as well as life during the Inquisition, the fears regarding torture and rubber wheeled carriages that came in the night, as well as marriage practices etc. I read Spain in The Later Seventeenth Century, 1665-1700, by Henry Kamen.

>   Thank you to everyone who helped me to finally put words on the page – to Adina Morysofe from the Netanya Academic College in Jerusalem for supplying material from the late Gloria Mound, who’d first discovered the ‘presence’ of a secret Jewish community on the island, one that was later, sadly, disputed. Still, it was due to Gloria’s research – including the supposed rescue of a group of marrano prisoners by Ibicenco pirates, pirates who later hid these Majorcan Jews, the young Nuñez brothers and cousins from the Inquisition – that inspired this story. She also provided the description of the Jewish population of reddish hair and beards and green eyes, and the women who wore kerchiefs and many strands of golden necklaces, called gonellas.

  Thank you especially to historian Martin Davies for helping me to place the novel in time – and for giving me a plausible explanation for my fictional community by introducing the Majorcan angle of refugees from that time period, to offer some ‘credibility’ to the story. I fear I may have still failed in making any of this credible – but the fault will be entirely my own! Thank you, Martin as well for all your help in trying to unpack the myth of a Jewish presence on the islands.