I’ve just finished reading Mrs Pettigrew lives for a day, by Winifred Watson. It was first published in 1938, and the version I had was by Persephone books, and included the original drawings. I found it in my local charity shop, but I want to now read some other Persephone books, described as chosen for being “readable, thought-provoking and impossible to forget.”
Mrs Pettigrew really was a delightful book (I even sound 1930s saying that!) but there is no other word for it. It was a proper Cinderella story and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I had to go up to London earlier this week, so I was reading it on the train and just grinning to myself. If you are in need of some light escapism, I cannot recommend it highly enough.
