Chapters (100)
- Half Title
- Also By Natalie Fergie
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Contents
- 2011
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- 1908
- Chapter 3
- 1910
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- 1921
- Chapter 31
- 1931
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- 1951
- Chapter 50
- 2011
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- 2021
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- 2022
- Chapter 81
- Parkin
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- About Embla Books
Georgia looks around the room and sighs. ‘I remember all these changes being made in the name of improvement. And it was improvement. No more hauling coal up from the coal cupboard at the end of the scullery. And much, much cleaner.’
Tess looks up at the clock on the wall. ‘I could do with a coffee before we get started, but I’m not sure about the electrics. If we can get someone to tell us it’s safe to use the sockets in the scullery, then even if we don’t have power in the kitchen, we can manage with just the kettle and the toaster for a day or two. And if it’s longer than that then a microwave would be helpful, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.’
‘I think,’ replies Georgia thoughtfully, ‘that I should perhaps see all this as an opportunity. Maybe the universe is telling me that it’s time for a change.’
Chapter 60
Early July 2011
Tess had been staying at Fiona’s for almost a week, helping her paint two of the high-ceilinged bedrooms. The kids had gone to stay with their grandparents and Tess had juggled the decorating project around her hours at the supermarket. The two women had walked Baxter around the Meadows in the mornings, played their favourite songs loudly on Spotify while they worked, and abandoned any semblance of healthy eating. They had sandwiches from Margiotta’s for lunch, and takeaways in the evening when they were too tired to do more than wash the paintbrushes. There had been wine.
It’s mid-afternoon when Tess gets back to Library Terrace and she can see there’s a mini-skip sitting in the road outside. The white enamel sink has been dropped in at one end and a pile of disconnected pipes and taps lie beside it. The ancient electric cooker is upside down, its door lying open, surrounded by heaps of torn lino and wall tiles. Georgia has obviously had a clearing crew in.
If she would just tell me these things are happening, thinks Tess. She takes her new, not-smart, no-frills phone from her pocket and checks for texts.
Nothing.
As she walks around to the back garden she hears a new sound coming from the house. Is that music?