The Postcard is the sequel to Zoë Folbigg’s bestselling novel The Note, based on the heartwarming true story of her and her ‘Train Man’. In The Postcard, we follow Maya and James after a trip to their friend’s lavish Indian wedding in Udaipur. Since their relationship is based on ‘love at first sight’, Maya is afraid that it might not survive, especially when they are of different opinions with respect to having a baby. Will they actually make it despite all odds?
The Postcard is a swoonworthy contemporary romance that readers of Jojo Moyes, Marian Keyes and Sophie Kinsella will love, according to the blurb. Read on for a synopsis and extract of this heartwarming book.
A year after the kiss that brought them together in a snowy train-station doorway, Maya and James are embarking on another journey – this time around the world.
The trip starts promisingly, with an opulent and romantic Indian wedding. But as their travels continue, Maya fears that ‘love at first sight’ might not survive trains, planes and tuk tuks, especially when she realises that what she really wants is a baby. Trouble is, James doesn’t feel the same.
Meanwhile Maya’s best friend Nena is struggling with the reality of being a new parent, little knowing that her friend risks losing the love of her life over her dreams of motherhood.
Can Maya and James navigate their different hopes and dreams to stay together? Or is love at first sight just a myth after all…
Perfect for fans of Josie Silver and Marian Keyes, The Postcard continues the once-in-a-lifetime love story that readers so took to their hearts.
‘Dominic showed me your website, you’re not as shit as I thought you’d be.’
‘Thanks. It’s going well so far.’
‘Bring that new bird of yours too.’
James told Maya about the crazy phone call, thinking she might quite like an Indian escapade after Christmas, before she started looking for a professional role in patisserie, but it planted a bigger seed than he’d anti- cipated and her eyes sparkled in excitement as it grew. ‘Why don’t we go out for Jeremy and Priyanka’s wedding, and just, kinda, stay there?’ she said one autumn afternoon while they read the Sunday papers in their local pub. ‘Use a chunk of Velma’s inheritance to go travelling. Make a year of it before we… before we get proper jobs and settle down. It’ll be perfect!’
Maya’s beloved friend Velma, a septuagenarian agony aunt with a penchant for cream cakes, had died just before Maya had given James the note asking him if he’d like to go for a drink. In fact it was Velma who had encouraged Maya, with her adventurous spirit, her twinkle in her eyes, and her ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ attitude, to make the leap and take a chance. And it was Velma who was still inspiring Maya to live a little and see the world.
James took some persuading. He already had wedding bookings for summer 2016 and he would have to turn them down if they did stay in India and go travelling from there. And he was keen to get on the property ladder somehow – he’d never owned a home and didn’t want Maya to think he was riding on her coat-tails. She owned the light and lofty Victorian maisonette they lived in, but he wanted to bring something to the relationship. And then there was the fact Maya would be funding the trip; he wasn’t sure how he felt about that…
‘Come on, baby,’ Maya pleaded. ‘We’ve barely seen each other since you moved in. This way we have a whole year to talk, to travel, to make love, to make sandcastles, to make plans for the rest of our lives together.’
James still looked uncertain.
‘Think of your travel portfolio! You could take some amazing photos. I can see it now: Indian kids playing cricket on dusty greens; Buddhist monks walking in a line; or cute Guatemalan kids in colourful artisan clothes – travel magazines love that kind of thing. You could move into travel photography, sell some pictures while we go along…’
James thought about how much he loved photographing people; how he thrived on seeing their stories and the peculiarities of their lives through his lens. And he looked at the excitement and the enthusiasm on Maya’s freckled face, knowing she was right. The housing market could wait. People would carry on getting married and would always need photographers.
So he had said yes and scooped Maya up when she flung her arms around his neck and said, ‘It’s going to be such fun!’
He came round to the idea and started buying guidebooks and researching places of interest, even if it pained him every time someone from the Kaye-French photographer’s agency contacted him about a booking he had to turn down, or a bride-to-be contacted him because she had seen amazing pictures he’d taken at a friend’s wedding. What pained James most was how terrible he felt when he cancelled the bookings he already had lined up. Brides cried. Grooms said ‘For fuck’s sake,’ and James apologetically returned their deposits. But Maya hugged him, said it would all be OK, and hoped James really was on board.
‘You really think we’re going to have an amazing adventure; you really think we’re doing the right thing?’ Maya says, with a hopeful smile.
‘Well you talked me into it, so I bloody hope so!’ Maya pretends to wince.
‘I know so,’ he adds, letting go of Maya’s hand.
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