The Art of Waiting - Christopher Jory - [EPUB][N27]seeders: 3
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The Art of Waiting - Christopher Jory - [EPUB][N27] (Size: 1.78 MB)
Description The Art of Waiting by Christopher Jory Language: English | Format: EPUB | ISBN-10: 1846973082 | ISBN-13: 978-1846973086 Page count: 304 | Date Published: April 16, 2015 | Publisher: Polygon  Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical CONTENTS Hope Tambov Prison Camp 188, Russia, April 1943 PART ONE Russia Katerina Leningrad, winter 1928 Vassili Ivanov Leningrad, winter 1928 PART TWO Italy Isabella Venice, autumn 1941 Casa Luca Venice, autumn 1941 Wild pig Venice, autumn 1941 After Luca Venice, autumn 1941 PART THREE Russia and Ukraine Train to nowhere Brescia, July 1942 Sunflowers Near Rostov-on-Don, August 1942 The Angel Pavlovsk, near Rostov-on-Don, December 1942 The Retreat Pavlovsk, near Rostov-on-Don, January 1943 The Prisoner Tambov Prison Camp 188, March 1943 Hope Tambov Prison Camp 188, April 1943 Oleg Leningrad, July 1944 PART FOUR Italy Homecoming Milan, July 1950 The Violin Venice, November 1950 The Outcast Venice, November 1950 Pantheon Rome, December 1950 Letters Venice, December 1950 The Chief Inspector Venice, March 1951 Teatro La Fenice Venice, March 1951 Revenge Venice, March 1951 Barbed wire Tambov, April 1952 Excerpt: Katerina Leningrad, winter 1928 The little girl thrust her head up through the surface of the river and gulped at the freezing air. She opened her throat and let out a roar of extraordinary rage and volume as the water rushed into her mouth and her head dipped below the surface again. For a moment it looked as though she was giving up the fight, sinking down into the darkness of the River Neva, but then she beat her legs frantically once more and thrashed her arms and fists and pulled herself towards the surface. Her head emerged again into the fading afternoon light, the icy wind snatching at her skin, and she gasped, a spluttering, coughing, spraying exhalation. And then a strong hand took hold of her wrist with a certainty that sent death slinking back beneath the waves, back into its hole among the dark, inert and rusting things that littered the riverbed. The fisherman hauled the girl out of the water and deposited her on the quayside. The wet bundle sat and stared back at him in shock. ‘What the hell are you doing falling into the water on a day like this? Or any day, for that matter? And you shouldn’t be out and about on your own anyway, a little thing like you. Does your mother even know where you are?’ His tone was harsh and reproachful, and as she listened to his scolding, her wide eyes blinked slowly and dissolved into tears. ‘Come on, you can’t sit there like that. You’ll freeze to death in no time. But don’t think I’m going to carry you, all soaking wet like that.’ He picked her up, placed her on her feet, and hurried her along to the nearest building – a museum – chiding her as they went, his stride lengthening as he spoke. Her little steps quickened to keep up and she felt a warmth edging through her and her shivers became less violent in the dusk. ‘I bet you, when I get back, someone will have taken all my fishing gear,’ he said. ‘Do you really think so?’ she whispered, feeling guilty now for the trouble she was putting him to. ‘Yes, I do. I honestly think so! You come along bothering me for fish every day, and then you go and fall in the river and now I . . . I don’t know.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘And there’s no point in you coming and asking me for fish any more, is there? Because I’m not going to have any, am I?’ ‘No?’ Related Torrents
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