A lyrical and emotionally engaging novel infused with mystery and wisdom about love, friendship, and the power of forgiveness. Florrie Butterfield—eighty-seven, one-legged, and of cheerful disposition—believes there can't be any more adventures or surprises in life to experience. Yet one midsummer’s evening, there’s an accident at Babbington Hall—the adult residence where she lives—so shocking and strange that Florrie is suspicious; is this really an accident? Or is she being lied to? Is she, in fact, living alongside a potential murderer? In her efforts to learn the truth, Florrie is forced to look back on her own life, with all its passions and regrets; she must confront her own bloody secret—and, at last, forgive herself. Above all, Florrie learns, through the help of her new friend, Stanhope, that you’re never too old to have the life you’ve always dreamed of. When it comes to love, it’s never too late. Readers of moving fiction about late-in-life second chances such as Fredrik Backman's A Man Called Ove and Rachel Joyce’s The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry will love this un-putdownable book.

Vols. for 1970-71 includes manufacturers' catalogs.

In October 1998, the erstwhile Chilean dictator General Augusto Pinochet was arrested in London, charged with crimes against humanity by a Spanish magistrate. But over the 16 months that Pinochet was detained, intriguing questions went unanswered about his close ties with Britain. Why was Lady Thatcher so keen to defend the General? And why was Tony Blair's usually cautious government prepared to have him arrested? As Andy Beckett uncovers, the answers reside deep within the long and shadowy history of relations between Britain and Chile. 'An outstanding achievement, and mesmerically readable . . . Beckett has surely written one of the best political travelogues of the year.' Sunday Times 'I am stirred and astonished at [Andy Beckett's] brilliance, and by the imaginative sympathy with which he rekindles the arguments and emotions of a period he never knew.' Christopher Hitchens, London Review of Books