Harvesting
Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Halftitle
- Title
- 1. Nico
- 2. Sammy
- 3. Nico
- 4. Sammy
- 5. Nico
- 6. Sammy
- 7. Nico
- 8. Sammy
- 9. Nico
- 10. Sammy
- 11. Nico
- 12. Sammy
- 13. Nico
- 14. Sammy
- 15. Nico
- 16. Sammy
- 17. Nico
- 18. Sammy
- 19. Nico
- 20. Sammy
- 21. Nico
- 22. Sammy
- 23. Nico
- 24. Sammy
- 25. Nico
- 26. Sammy
- 27. Nico
- 28. Sammy
- 29. Nico
- 30. Sammy
- 31. Nico
- 32. Sammy
- 33. Nico
- 34. Sammy
- 35. Nico
- 36. Sammy
- 37. Nico
- 38. Sammy
- 39. Nico
- 40. Sammy
- 41. Nico
- 42. Sammy
- 43. Nico
- 44. Sammy
- 45. Nico
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
Cover
Halftitle
Harvesting
Title
Harvesting
Lisa Harding
For Shell,
with love, gratitude and admiration
This book is dedicated to all those
whose lives have been stolen by traffickers
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;
This truth, this hard and precious stone,
Lay it on your hot cheek,
Let it hide your tear.
Hold it like a crystal
When you are alone
And gaze in the depths of the icy stone.
Long, look long and you will be blessed:
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed.
Sara Teasdale, ‘Advice to a Girl’
1. Nico
1
Nico
A cooling breeze creeps up my skirt, tickling my thighs, as I climb to the highest branch of the highest tree in the forest. Puffs of cloud, like God’s breath, float all around. Some of the other fellows are yellowing and balding, but this old man holds on to his crown all year round. He smells of leather and Papa’s pipe. Lying back on his wrinkled bark, blotched with freckles, I scout the sky for shapes. With a slight squinting and blurring, a galloping filly appears just beyond my reach. I swing both legs either side of the branch and ride like the cowboys ride in the films Maria’s dad lets us watch.
‘Would you like a man like that?’ he’d say. ‘A man with bandy legs who spits on the ground?’
Maria would laugh, and I would think: but what about the gun packed so close to his thigh?
When we’re alone, Maria says she dreams of those spitting men.
Luca has climbed up behind me and is shaking the branch I’m clinging to. ‘Hey, don’t be such a dumbass! I could fall.’ He starts to laugh, sounding as cruel as Sergiu. The dog is running round and round the base, making strange grunting sounds.
‘That stupid animal doesn’t know it’s a mutt,’ he says, and throws a baby-green fairy cap in its direction. He should know better. Mama says if they are pulled too soon, you can hear their cries on the wind.