“It’s hard to accept that this is the end of the Emmy Lake series, but if there has to be an end, let it be this one: Dear Miss Lake . Sheer joy!” — Bonnie Garmus, author of Lessons in Chemistry Plucky wartime advice columnist Emmy Lake discovers that sometimes it takes losing everything to find what we need most. London, July 1944. After nearly five years of war, the readers of Woman’s Friend magazine are relying on the support of Emmy Lake and her team more than ever. With the city under attack, the magazine staff decamps to the countryside for the summer. Determined to help the women of Britain carry on, Emmy and friends are hard at work finding new ways to inspire resilience. With her army officer husband Charles posted close to home, and best friend Bunty by her side, Emmy happily throws herself into rural life, juggling children, magazine assignments, and plans for a very important wedding. And then a call comes that means she may finally fulfill her long-held dream of becoming a war correspondent. But when disaster strikes, Emmy needs her friends, her community, and her readers more than ever. Filled with courage and compassion, a lovable cast of characters, and winning wartime details, Dear Miss Lake is an enormously uplifting testament to the power of friendship and hope. “It’s hard to accept that this is the end of the Emmy Lake series, but if there has to be an end, let it be this one: Dear Miss Lake . Sheer joy!” —Bonnie Garmus, author of Lessons in Chemistry “A charming World War II series concludes... The adventurous title character remains buoyant as the Blitz winds down in London... Pearce’s characters are a winningly resourceful bunch.” — Minnesota Star Tribune “The spirited conclusion to Pearce’s Emmy Lake Chronicles... what hits hardest is the sense of camaraderie among the women. It’s a satisfying finale.” — Publishers Weekly “A celebration of courage in all its forms... I bit my nails, cried, and cheered as I read. These plucky, loving characters have become my true friends.” —Julie Mae Cohen, author of Bad Men “There'll be love and laughter for everyone reading Dear Miss Lake , just you wait and see! AJ Pearce's wartime series is destined to become a cherished classic and this the perfect, heart-warming ending.” —Sally Page, author of The Keeper of Stories “Every book in this series has brought the biggest smile to my face. . . Brilliant.” —Milly Johnson, author of The Queen of Wishful Thinking “What a fabulous, funny, emotive and tugging-at-the-heart-strings book. I loved it.” —Jo Thomas, author of The Oyster Catcher “The characters in Dear Miss Lake captured my heart. They are such lovely people, with such a bright, courageous, compassionate outlook on life-- this is the reading equivalent of curling up with a mug of tea and a friend for a chat.” —Tracy Rees, author of Amy Snow “Good-hearted, touching, and funny, Dear Miss Lake is the perfect escape and should be prescribed as a national tonic.” —Jill Mansell, author of An Almost Perfect Summer “A wonderful, warm, and engaging story of wartime life." —Margaret Dickinson, author of Plough the Furrow AJ Pearce grew up in Hampshire, England. She studied at the University of Sussex and Northwestern University. A chance discovery of a 1939 women’s magazine became the inspiration for her series The Emmy Lake Chronicles, which includes Dear Mrs. Bird , Yours Cheerfully , and Mrs. Porter Calling . She lives in the south of England. Chapter 1: Bunty Has a Surprise CHAPTER 1 Bunty Has a Surprise Guy Collins was a man of some talents, but until now he had kept motorcycle mechanics under his hat. As the sun shone down on a beautiful July morning, I walked up to the entrance of Dower Cottage to see both Guy and his brother flat on their backs marvelling at the workings of what, by the sound of it, was a terrifically fascinating valve. “I say, well done,” said Charles from underneath the Sunbeam Model 8. “That’s definitely looking better.” Major Charles Mayhew, who also happened to be my husband, was on forty-eight hours’ leave from his base just under an hour away. With Italy beaten and put firmly in its place, four months ago and to my absolute joy, he had been sent back to Britain, where he had been promoted and sent to work on something operational and, as ever, enormously secret. The fact that he was currently lying on the ground and covered in oil did not for a moment detract from the thrill of having him home. After over two and a half years of marriage, we were finally in the same country, and most important of all, he was safe. “Hello, darling,” I said, bending to retrieve a piece of rag and a spanner. “Has the old deathtrap been playing you up again?” Charles looked up, smiled broadly, and leapt to his feet, greeting me with an enthusiastic kiss. “She’s a trouper,” he said, patting the cracked leather seat as if the motorcycle was a trusty old horse