It seemed a little slice of her had stayed hidden in its lining, and it felt strange, like putting on a mask. She’s got it into her head that she’s a great, untrained singer,” she said grimly. EVA RICE is a writer and young mother living in London. Friendship—Fiction. Please try again. Eighteen year old Penelope, her brother,Indigo, and her mother live in a large estate house, which they can not afford to maintain. ISBN: 9780755325504 Always inventing. There is a difference.”. More. Oh, and my name’s Charlotte, by the way.”. How extraordinarily clever of you, Charlotte, to meet someone as pretty and interesting as Penelope at such a dull affair,” said Aunt Clare. Straight Alice in Wonderland. 11,40 €, 10,49 € “May I really? What future is there in fooling people? After all, there aren’t many children whose first word is ‘dumbwaiter.’ ” Aunt Clare looked pained and I gulped loudly to avoid laughing. I didn’t reply at once, but took in the glory of her profile—the smooth, milky pale skin, the long curling eyelashes, and the thick, thick, straight, heavy, dark-blonde hair that fell well below her shoulders. I had heard of it, but had no idea where Clapham was. Rationing is a thing of the past, with shops stocking products from all over the world. This shopping feature will continue to load items when the Enter key is pressed. I mean, she’s not my mother, she’s my mother’s sister, but my mother has given up on everything in life except for men with batons who she believes will help further her career. A fire had been lit some hours ago, and with the door closed, I felt suddenly faint. In the end, the "secret" that was briefly alluded to at the start came to light and was, to be perfectly honest, very very boring! I’ve always felt my most hungry in the middle of the afternoon and today was no exception; I felt my stomach rumble and hoped that tea would be served soon, though it worried me that there was scarcely room for a saucer. Reviewed in the United Kingdom on March 26, 2017. Have you met him?”, “How horribly casual you are, Charlotte. “Everyone does, after a while. Then she vanished. I particularly enjoyed Julian the Loaf (I laughed and laughed over that conversation when Harry was calling someone weird and Penelope was like 'look who's talking, you kept a loaf of bread as a pet' and Harry was like 'leave Julian out of this'.) Anyway, it’s absurd to talk about such matters in front of Penelope, who can be of no help at all.” Charlotte smoothed crumbs off the lap of my coat. “You . She did a great deal of listening (as I imagine was customary for everyone when they took tea with Aunt Clare), but unlike most people, who pretend to listen and then show themselves up for forgetting everything two minutes later, Charlotte really seemed to take everything in, almost as if it were an exam and she was going to be tested on everything later. It was mid-November 1954, and as cold as I had ever known London. You must ask Penelope to introduce you to her brother. Find all the books, read about the author, and more. I suppose that means I’m not beautiful,” said Charlotte ruefully. As I stepped out of the cab, the wind whipped through the green coat and seemed to cut right through me. “And where is home?” I asked, sounding just like my grandmother. Not my normal type of read and rather predictable, but I quite enjoyed it for something different. She wriggled into my coat, pulling her mass of hair over the collar. That was how she said it. 11,40 €, 17,48 € One of the elderly ladies muttered, “No thank you,” and the other I think must have been deaf, because her expression remained unaltered by the proposal. It's beautifully written, almost poetic, here is one of my favorite lines during a lull in an intense "duck supper" conversation; "Like the curious pause that takes place before blood seeps out from a cut finger, we all sat quite still...". Refresh and try again. “Aunt Clare is really my mother. We don’t share your credit card details with third-party sellers, and we don’t sell your information to others. “Ooh, and some of those nice chocolate biscuits, not those ghastly coconut ones, please.”. “He dies, she kills herself with an asp. “Aunt Clare took her on to help her out for a few months after my uncle died, and she’s still here now, earning more than she’s worth, I can tell you. I only wish his father were here to set him straight.”. I looked at her with new respect. She said that we must do something about the rooms.The walls were all damp and fur had settled on someparts of the wallpaper. “I saw you waiting for the bus from the other side of the street, and I thought, now there’s a girl who would be perfect for tea with Aunt Clare and Harry.”. She’s madly in love with Harry, which is too pointless for words.”, “Not at all,” scorned Charlotte. I loved Harry in general, he was my favourite character, along with Charlotte, who I pictured as lookin. (She rather shot herself in the foot with this expression, as there were more windows at home than one could count and she was never done employing youths from the village to come and clean them. "Wow! , for example, to keep track of items stored in your shopping basket, prevent fraudulent activity, improve the security of our services, keep track of your specific preferences (e.g. “Silly girl. I. “Now, come and sit next to me, Penelope,” instructed Aunt Clare, oozing onto the sofa and patting the seat beside her. Only you’ll always wonder about it, won’t you? Through Penelope, Eva Rice conveys so well what it is like to be young and giddy and in love. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. The book is replete with marvelous characters, Penelope's beautiful, young widowed mother; her younger musically-inclined brother named after Inigo Jones; her friends, Charlotte and Harry; and Aunt Clare. I am always in love with books that involve amusing characters, a little history, a smatter of fashion, and of course, love. . I swear I saw the driver bow his head to her before he drove off again. “Aunt Clare always has excellent tea,” Charlotte went on. The name is first of all a total misfit. The clock in the hall struck a melancholy five o’clock and I wondered how long I would have to stay here before excusing myself and boarding the train back to Westbury. I mean, she’s not my mother, she’s my mother’s sister, but my mother has given up on everything in life except for men with batons who she believes will help further her career. Admittedly, the decision to take the bus from Bayswater to Paddington was uncharacteristic. She had quite the reverse effect on me than had the Alicias and Susans and Jennifers of the debutante circuit. . Just look at that sentence! I was pretty certain I wasn’t supposed to get out of the cab until we pulled up outside the mysterious Aunt Clare’s house for tea. OH. If you have changed your email address then contact us and we will update your details. “It was, if a little hurried and lacking in emotion,” I said. It is the 1950s, and on the one hand Penelope is still affected by the loss of her father in WWII but she and her brother also yearn for the energy emanating from America as demonstrated by singers such as Johnnie Ray and Elvis Presley. She looked a little older than I, but I sensed from the way that she talked that she was probably about a year younger. To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Here we are!” said Charlotte happily. |, 136 “I can’t sit around here all day waiting.” She spoke loudly and quickly and without a hint of self-consciousness, and it was instantly clear to me that although the girl was addressing us all, it was me she wanted to accept her offer. Eva Rice is a writer and young mother living in London. . Because when he looked up at me, his eyes threw me completely off balance. “Oh, Aunt!” said Charlotte airily. It’s too frightening to think about,” said Aunt Clare. You can learn more about our use of cookies here. She looked a little older than I, but I sensed from the way that she talked that she was probably about a year younger. Although this was an absurd reason for me to accompany her, as we had only met a few minutes ago, it had the desired effect. Harry was lighting a cigarette with long fingers. (I pride myself on being able to guess people’s ages, and I’m rather good at it.) She didn’t turn to speak to me, but sat straight ahead, staring out in the direction that we were going.