“Grandfather’s skirts would flap in the wind along the churchyard path and I would hang on. He often found things to do in the vestry, excuses for getting out of the vicarage (kicking the swollen door, cursing) and so long as he took me he couldn’t get up to much. I was a sort of hobble; he was my minder and I was his. He’d have liked to get further away, but petrol was rationed. The church was at least safe. My grandmother never went near it — except feet first in her coffin, but htat was years later, when she was buried in the same grave with him.”
From Bad Blood by Lorna Sage
I wasn’t planning on starting any new books until I finished my last batch (I have finished some) but I just realized that the Slaves of Golconda discussion is coming up soon and I must join in this time. The last two books I had a hard time reading so I put them off but no more excuses. So if I want to finish this book on time I must start now.
Anyway, I think this one will be quite different if that first paragraph is anything to go by. Plus, there’s this little bit I found on the book jacket which just grabs me: From the memories of her family and of the wounds they inflicted on one another, she tells an extraordinary tale of thwarted love, failed religion, and the salvation she found books.
So, if this sounds like something you want to read join us in the discussion next Monday. How about you though? Start any new books today?