Story Snip from Larksong: Chapter 28, New Book Reviews, and New Knitting!

ew books!

By the way, the creator of the drop caps I leep using, Jessica Hische, also has a new book out!


Are you looking for a mystery that's going to have you up all night, gripping the edge of your seat as you read?

With complex characters that get embroiled in all sorts of difficulties as you root for them to find a way out?

Then I have two book recommendations for you!

Un animal sauvage by Joel Dicker

I got to attend a book signing with the author last week!

(I forget that instagram crops photos, a couple of these are missing the top and bottom! I was wearing my Stede Bonnet dress).

The Playgroup by Leah Mercer

"Breath catches in my throat and terror grips me as my daughter’s favourite jumper slides into focus. Time slows. Helpless, I watch my precious little girl run into the road. Screeching tyres slice through the quiet afternoon. Days from now, my friends will say the worst day of my life was all my fault...
A bright and welcoming haven, the playgroup sits at the heart of the town, tucked away inside a red-brick building. The Nest should have been the safest place for my rosy-cheeked, pink-obsessed daughter, Florence. Run by mothers like me, I trusted my newfound friends – Alice, Beth and Georgie – to take care of my child. But now my choice has left Florence fighting for her life.
My heart pounds thinking about what I will tell my husband, James. He stayed with me through the darkest times, and I thought some space would bring us closer. But as I watch our little girl sleeping in a hospital bed, I know our relationship may never recover from this.
How can I tell James what really happened if I don’t know myself? I can’t shake the feeling the other mothers are lying to me; they know I’d never let Florence leave the nursery by herself. We’ve all got dangerous secrets we want to protect, but if they expose mine, will anyone, including my husband, believe me when I say I didn’t harm my daughter?
A completely gripping psychological suspense about the dark price of protecting your family, perfect for fans of Liane Moriarty, Adele Parks and Sally Hepworth."

This book had me up all night, reading!

I empathised with each of the main characters right away and could all too easily put myself in each of their shoes.
I had to keep reading to find out what happened, and how they uncovered the truth about the event that shook up all their lives.


 

 And now, a snip from my own work!

Larksong is set in Montreal, July 1914.

• In chapter 1, Alice arrived at the family cottage to take care of her grandmother's aviary, following her grandmother's funeral, only to find that her parents had already leased the cottage to another family for the summer. The only way she could have one more summer in her favourite place was to surreptitiously take on the role of governess to the two young girls...
• In chapter 2, we met George, laid up at the hospital with a broken leg. Instead of joining his friends on a Grand Tour of Europe, he's being sent off to recuperate at a rented cottage in the country...
• In chapters 3 and 4, we returned to Alice's point of view, and saw her bonding with George's younger sisters. Then she got a surprise -- George was arriving at the cottage that very day! We saw a hint that Alice finds George attractive and interesting -- but also unbearably rude.
• In chapters 5 to 10, they had their first argument, then argued once more, but the stakes were higher: war is on the horizon. Then George attempted a rapprochement. Alice had some feelings stirring... During their first evening together, they began to suss each other out over a card game, and they reached a détente of sorts before going their separate ways for the night.
• In chapters 11 and 12, we started the next morning in George's point of view, with his dawning realization of his attraction to Alice. Yet this realization did not lead to greater friendliness.
• In chapter 13 (which I mistakenly also labelled as 12!), a new complication arose, in the form of the arrival of Albert, George's younger, and rather rude, brother. Meanwhile, George was busy with inappropriate (as he thinks) thoughts of Alice. (I skipped a scene where Alice takes the girls down to the lake and needs to pretend with a neighbour, Mrs Chase, that she is not a governess, but simply helping out with the girls. Then, while Alice is distracted, trying to spin her web of half-truths and discussing the threat of war on the horizon, Lucy gets up on a rickety boat tied up at the dock and fell off into the water.)
• In chapter 14, on returning from the lake, Alice and the girls overheard an argument that ended with this outburst from George to his brother Albert: "I don't need your tales of self-pity. The question is, what are you going to do about it, now that you've f***ed it all up?"
• In chapters 15 to 19, we witnessed the fallout from the argument, then shared a moment between Alice and George in the garden. Alice left George and resumed her governess role, and decided not to join the brothers that evening in the parlour. Then, early the next morning, Alice went out, only to find George rowing on the lake, and joined him.
• In chapter 20, following their early morning idyll, we finally had a true rapprochement. Alice, making up her mind in an instant, called out to George's sisters: "We're going on an expedition with your brother." (I skipped the rest of chapter 20, in which we take a trip through the woods with Alice, George, and his sisters. There are friendly chats, the girls sign their brother's cast, and George begins work on a sketch of Alice. When they return home, the girls help Alice feed the birds in the aviary and clean it in preparation for the arrival of Mr Palmer, a prospective buyer visiting from Boston. Mr Palmer says he will make his decision on purchasing the aviary and return the next day. Throughout the day, there are hints of the gathering storms of war.)
• In chapters 21 and 22, as Alice saw Mr Palmer off at the gate, a new complication emerged, in the arrival of Albert's friends from university. Alice and George came close to admitting their attraction, but then George unwittingly insulted the birds and the aviary and Alice's affection for her grandmother's pets.
• In chapter 23, following omitted scenes (a bit of George's reflections on Alice, and his feelings for her (as well as memories of unfavourable reactions from his parents about his hobby of sketching and painting); at the end, he decides that it might be a lark to try to lure Pixie away from his brother. He proceeds to do just that before dinner as she plays up her role of nurse and guides George through some exercises in the front parlour. This leads to an arm wrestling match between all the boys, involving both wagers for a few coins--and kisses for the winner from Pixie. That evening, they all gather in the front parlour, and agree to attend the ball and bonfire at the Hatley Manor hotel the next night. George catches Albert and Pixie canoodling in the kitchen, but decides he's in no position to say anything because he was ready to embrace Alice the governess), the next day, the crowd slept in, all except Alice, who took her charges into the village to watch a magic lantern show. On their return, George decided to show them his secret--the full extent of his artistry. It was revealed that Eleanor is also a budding artist, and the siblings agreed to continue to develop their talent and to hide it from their disapproving parents.
• In chapters 24 and 25, the girls returned to the house, and Alice and George, alone in the enclosed garden, sat side by side on the bench... They kissed, and Alice revealed her true identity to George. They talked, perhaps all too briefly, about what they would do with their newfound feelings.
• In chapter 26, George watches her with Mr Palmer (who's returned to inspect the aviary and agree on its purchase) and thinks about how he's actually looking forward to the big party at the fancy hotel that night, now that he'll have Alice on his arm. I've skipped this bit, and a bit where they discuss Alice's attachment to the cottage and the birds, as well as the fact that Alice isn't really a governess and what they might have to tell his family, if anything. Also a part where, seated side-by-side and hand-in-hand on the porch, they talk of George's hopes and plans for his future career, in despite of his father. Then she asked him if he meant to return to England, but Albert interrupted.
• In chapter 27, in the evening, they all made their way to the banquet and dance at Hatley Manor.
• Now, in chapter 28, Alice juggles her governess duties with advances from Albert--and affairs of the heart (I've left out a bit of conversation with other partygoers from the village and the interlude when Elsie arrives to pick up the girls)...

Once they arrived at the hotel, Eleanor and Lucy shrank to Alice's side, eyes round as saucers as they took in the assembled crowd.

Bodies swirled here and there, some in groups, some in pairs. The women in their finery moved like glittering dragonflies around the dark suited men, but one and all were aglow in the soft light of the lanterns and the white light from the chandeliers.

"You girls go on," George said airily, indicating the three of them. His smile did not reach his eyes. "I'll make my own way round."

He held out his hand for his crutches, which Alice was wiping with a bit of cloth that had been knotted below one of the handlebars. "I'll finish that."

She tried to catch his eye as he collected the crutches and swept the cloth from her fingers, but he kept his head averted.

She followed his gaze in the direction of the partygoers, and realised he must be tracking Albert and Pixie's movements.

Then Lucy tugged at her hand and Eleanor shrieked at the sight of a friend, and she was pulled along with them, soon finding herself inside and far away from George.

...

Alice waited until she'd reached the drinks table before giving in to the compulsion to scan the room for George.

It took only a moment's look round to locate him. He'd left his crutches behind somewhere, and was on the other side of the open floor from his sisters, still surrounded by a bevy of girls.

Alice felt equal parts pride that he should have maintained his charm despite his injury––the girls' attention would do his self-esteem good––and an inordinate urge to shove all the chits to the side with one sweep of her arm, scattering them like ninepins.

How dare they crowd him so?

Yet she had no claim on him whatsoever. She could not even casually saunter over, weave through the crowd, and take her place beside him. Have him, equally casually, pass his arm possessively about her waist. Share a secret smile of belonging that the others would see and envy.

Idle fancies. I don't even want their envy. I just want him to look at me only.

George laughed deeply at something someone had said, and his hands waved about as he replied, the way they did whenever he was excited.

There, now she was acting familiar with his habits, as though she'd known him her entire life. From curly locks to aquiline nose, it had not taken her long to memorise his features, learn their nuances. That glint of gold that appeared in his dark hair under certain lights; the dimple below his lower lip she could see clearly when he tilted his face up to her.

She had no pretext for going over to talk to him, except perhaps to offer some of the punch that was rapidly warming in her hand as she stood and stared.

Yet even as she watched, Albert bounded up to his brother and passed him a glass, holding one of his own, and they shared out the contents of George's flask between them.

Suddenly they were the best of friends. And how quickly George had forgotten his sweet words about being alone with her by the lake!

She grabbed a tray, added three more glasses of punch, and swept back across the hall to Eleanor and the others.

Presently, Elsie arrived, taking her own turn about the tables before coming to relieve her.

...

Alice returned with a heavy tread to the hotel. She ought to feel light-hearted and carefree. Yet she felt more a governess than ever, sneaking into a party that neither welcomed nor wanted her.

George wasn't in sight when she went inside, and neither were Pixie and the others, whom she'd completely forgotten about before. She'd vaguely noticed Neil on the periphery of the dance floor, but none had approached or greeted her. Either Pixie had held them enthralled or they'd made new conquests from among the other guests.

A couple of regular visitors to the hotel, whom she'd met the year before, greeted her as she approached the buffet table. Their smiles were friendly, but they made no move to invite her into their group, closing ranks.

She picked up a cup of punch simply to give her hands something to do, and moved on as if she had a purpose, or had seen someone across the room.

A flurry of fabric and a clutch at her arm heralded the arrival of Pixie. "There you are! Where'd you disappear to? Have you seen my hat? There's a frightful wind down by the lake and it's wreaking havoc with my hair." She patted the sides of her updo, though as far as Alice could see, all the pins were doing their job and not a curl was out of place.

"Have you checked the cloakroom?" she asked and followed, slowly, as Pixie dashed first in that direction, then, having powdered her nose and reapplied her lip colour, skipped along the edge of the dance floor, out onto the verandah, and down the stairs.

Alice remained behind at the rail, looking out over the grounds.

She'd forgotten about the bonfire. They'd lit it already, and shadowy shapes were flitting about, one or two hotel hands still flinging driftwood on the fire here and there.

The air was cooler on this side of the hotel, with a fresh breeze off the lake that waved loose tendrils of hair against her cheeks. She'd had less time to spend on her pins than Pixie had.

The path down to the fire and the water glowed under rows of paper lanterns. Leaving her empty cup on the rail, she made her way down, one hand on her hat as the breeze gusted up.

Closer to, she could make out the figures more clearly. Some were drinking, some dancing to the faint music floating down from the house. All laughing, except for one.

George, parked in his chair outside the circle of light, in the brief space of darkness between the last lantern and the fire's glow.

Alice sat without preamble or greeting onto a granite rock beside him.

He glanced over, and his smile transformed his face, surly eyebrows lifting, mouth wide, and––if there'd been a lantern close enough to see––dimples on either side, she was sure.

"You should be among them all, Alice." Just as suddenly, like a candle guttering, his scowl returned. "I don't need nursemaiding. You belong with them anyway, even if they don't know it."

"But they don't know it and I'd rather they didn't find out. Not yet, at least. Besides, I may belong with them socially but it doesn't follow that I'd like to be in their company. I'd rather sit with you, if you don't mind."

"Mind? Mind! Alice––"

"Yes?"

"Will you–– Will you help me out of this dadblasted chair?"

She hid her disappointment at his eventual question, sure he'd been about to ask something else, and gamely lowered the foot rise and let him tug at her arm until he was upright.

"I think my crutches are––"

"Hey, gang, look! George is up!"

A group from the fireside split off and gathered round, reaching for George's arms. They took it in turns to help swing him along toward the bonfire, laughing and entreating, until, at the last, it was Pixie he leaned on as he stood before the flames.

Alice again felt the urge to barge through the crowd and claim him. She took a step forward, then resisted the impulse, doubtful George would wish her to create that kind of a fuss.

"A fair maiden shouldn't be left alone." Albert sidled up, carrying two cups of some dark liquid.

He held one out to her and she accepted it without thinking.

He took that as an invitation, setting aside his cup to shrug off his suit jacket and spread it on the rock. "I'm sure you were cold, sitting there with only your gown. My brother isn't very thoughtful, I'm afraid." He held out his hand, indicating the rock as though he'd prepared a throne, and as soon as she'd sat, he settled in beside her. He clinked his cup to hers and drank deeply, Adam's apple bobbing.

Alice took a delicate sip from hers. As she'd suspected, the punch had been spiked with whisky from George's flask. She took another sip, and the warm sting slid down her throat and settled low in her belly.

She couldn't even see George now, as the crowd had shifted to the other side of the fire.

"I've been hoping for a chance to talk to you," Albert said.

His voice was more serious than she'd heard it in all the time since they'd met, as if he'd finally left off his cavalier demeanour and the real man spoke for the first time.

"What about?" she asked, instead of the "why me?" she wished to have the answer to.

"I need some advice, and you're not only level-headed but... I saw George's sketches of you. The two of you have been as discreet as possible of course, but––"

"What are you insinuating, Mr. Cunnick?"

He grinned, teeth glinting in the fireglow. "Come now, I can't ask for your advice if you won't be honest with me. Here it is: I, too, care for someone not quite fitting. In my case it's not a social mismatch but one of age. The lady in question, you see, is fifteen years older than myself."

"What makes you think I could offer advice for such a situation that would be even remotely helpful?"

"I'd like to know how far your relationship with George has gone, so that––"

"Really, Mr. Cunnick, I have no idea to what you might be referring. Your brother and I have no relationship, beyond the mere fact that I am employed as governess in your household. Now if you will excuse me." She made to rise.

"Please, don't take offense." He touched her wrist, then yanked back his hand, as though afraid to injure her in any way. A marked contrast to his usual devil-take-the-hindmost attitude. "I thought, since my own situation is so desperate..."

He trailed off, staring moodily into his half-empty cup. She glanced about, but George was nowhere in sight. It wasn't fair to Albert to be rude, simply for fear of what George might say if he saw them so close together. Especially not when the man was being sincere for the first time.

"I'm still not sure what you'd like me to tell you," she said softly, settling back down from her upright position. "Does the lady know of your feelings? Does she reciprocate?"

"She does, but she is hesitant as well. If I had the courage to declare my affections openly––but I haven't. I can't seem to disregard what my family and friends might say."

His knee jogged up and down as he talked, a nervous tic that kept catching her eye. She nudged his knee with hers to make him stop, then said, "Surely your feelings––I mean both yours and hers––surely your affection is more valid than vague possibilities of others' reactions."

"How I wish I could believe that!" He nudged her in response, leg resting against hers.

He had the Cunnick nose, as George did, but rather than dimples, Albert had a faint cleft to his chin. As though someone at his birth had pressed into that spot, not a light kiss, but a hard thumb.

"What do you think, Alice?" he asked, losing all formality and using her name, and she realised she'd not been paying attention to a word he spoke.

She fielded his question with one of her own. "Have you not discussed this with her?"

"Briefly." He laid a hand on her leg, forefinger flicking back and forth above her knee. "I'd rather hear what you think, how you think I should proceed. It's gotten so I no longer trust my own judgement in the matter."

I don't trust mine either, she wanted to reply. His touch distracted her completely. How would his intended feel if she saw them together? Perhaps it was simply Albert's way, to be this familiar with everyone. He laughed and wrestled with Colin and Neil as well; he might have done no more with Pixie than ask her advice on the same matter. They might have gone into the pantry in order not to be overhead by his brother and friends.

His shoulder bumped hers. "Alice, girl, are you considering my question or ignoring me?"

She met his gaze, dark and inscrutable, and he flashed his teeth in that devil-you grin of his. "I'm teasing, girl. Come, drink up, and let's have that dance I promised you."

"Here?"

"Where else?" He set his hand to the bottom of her cup, tilted it towards her mouth. "There you are," he said as she was forced to swallow a big gulp, burning its way past her throat. "Liquid courage. Now take my hand."

He twined their fingers together and rose, passing his other arm about her waist and yanking her flush against his body. He began to sway to the distant strain of an Irving Berlin tune from last summer.

She did not believe for a moment that he'd dragged Pixie to the pantry simply to talk.

Alice craned her neck over her shoulder, seeking George, but she and Albert might as well have been alone on the beach. The others' voices carried across, but from further away, as though they'd moved from the fireside down to the waterline.

Albert twirled her about, yanking her close at each pass. He pushed against her with leg and chest. One song merged into the next, and she grew hot from the frenzy of his movements and the bonfire as they whirled closer to the flames. Her hair plastered to her nape and a few pins slipped out.

Then a slower piece began and Albert drew her in, flush against his body as he swayed.

"You two are missing the fun!" a voice called, and she recognised Colin's nasal tone.

Albert did not pry himself off but called back over his shoulder, "this side of the fire's where the real fun is."

Alice wrenched herself out of his hold and looked up at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get your girl angry," Neil said as he came around the fire, a bottle in his hand. Snickering, he added, "Bring her down to the dock, man. Night swimming!" He bounded back around the fire and was gone into the darkness.

They were talking about her as though she were a doll or an uncaring chit or both.

"Sounds like a lark," Albert said, still clutching her arm. "D'you fancy it?"

"Certainly not!" The boys might act all carefree but she'd never lost her manners before, and wasn't about to start doing so with Albert's cronies.

She tugged her arm out of his grip, but had only taken one step back before he was close up against her once more, leading her by the elbow directly past the fire. Sparks flew up into the starlit night and, once they'd rounded the circle of stones marking its perimeter, she could see the scene on the lake's edge, shadows gilded by the flames.

A few figures were already in the water, heads bobbing above the surface, and a line of partygoers ranged along the dock, bare legs and feet dangling towards the water where they sat. A couple kicked and splashed and others squealed.

She spotted Pixie, leaning back on the palms of her hands and waggling her toes towards someone in the water.

"I'm going in," Albert said. "You needn't come all the way but do take your stockings off and wade in. It won't feel that cold once you're used to it."

He might have intended to be solicitous, yet he still could not keep out the note of command. She might have waded in––she certainly knew the many moods of this lake better than he, and remembered well that the water near the shore was warm enough this late at night, especially after a sunny day––but did not wish to appear as though she was giving in to any order of Albert's.

Still he dragged her down to the dock and as they went, she glanced over his shoulder to where a further crowd was grouped in front of a tumble of boulders. A few girls shifted about then ran to the shore and, through the gap that opened up, she saw George.

He'd been surrounded by the crowd––all girls––and propped up with his back to the rocks.

"I hope someone's gone to fetch cocoa and towels for when we emerge," Albert said, finally letting go of her to shrug off his shirt. Pixie caught sight of him and waved. Someone else cheered as Albert began to unbuckle his belt.

"It's too cold for you, Bertie!" Neil called.

"You wait till I dive in," Albert rejoined, kicking off his shoes. "You won't know what hit you." He unbuttoned his trousers with one hand as he dragged off a sock with the other. "Hurry, Alice, the others are in already."

She looked over at the rocks; he was right; the last two figures were leaving George's side, two girls she didn't recognise, tearing off their shawls and knotting their skirts above their knees as they giggled and half-ran, half-skipped towards the churned up water.

"We'll fetch your crutches in a bit, George, old boy," Colin called. "Holler if you've changed your mind and want to come down."

"How about you?" Albert asked. He stood before her in only his longjohns. His bare chest shone palely in the flickering light. Then he lunged for her hand. "Come with me!"

She sidestepped his grasp, but kept a smile on her face so he wouldn't think her rude or, worse, prudish. But she had no interest in stripping before strangers, let alone Albert and his friends.

If George hadn't been there, she might have been forwarder, might have fallen in with Albert's exuberant antics. Yet now the contrast between the two brothers was clear.

She did not take his hand but went with Albert as long as he kept looking back and waving her on, making sure she was following.

Then, the moment he'd reached the shore and stepped into the water, she veered aside and made for the rocks.

"Alice, come join us!" Pixie piped up as she passed the dock.

"Who's that?" another girl asked. "She didn't come down from Montreal in our car."

Albert's reply carried towards her on the breeze. "That is my dance partner, ladies and gentlemen. I mean, of course, my underwater dance partner. I'll have those stockings off you soon enough, my girl!"

Alice whirled to face him, ready to reveal who she was and demand an apology for his brutish behaviour. Ready to give up a final month in Gran's house for the deep satisfaction of putting Albert in his place. He deserved a slap on the cheek. Someone had to smack him. If his friends would not stand up to him and call him out for being such a cad––

"Alice? Come to me," George said softly.

I finished the baby blanket!

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