Daniel Gallagher has a secret too big for an eight-year-old to bear. But his mother is afraid to hear it. And so, they live in an uneasy chaos of lies and half-truths until the day that a chance encounter brings Daniel into the life of eighty-one-year-old Sadie Gordon. Sadie is a survivor of Stalinist Russia, who spends her twilight years tending her garden and trying to remember her daughter-in-law’s name. What could Sadie and Daniel possibly have in common, except the knowledge that they will soon be embarking on a journey into eternity.
Genre: FICTION / GeneralSelling steadily, reviews very positive.
She was dead. She was quite sure of it because she couldn’t feel anything. Her face was scratched and raw, and her hands and feet were swollen with the cold and the grazes and the lack of food, but she couldn’t feel them at all. Keep going! The snow was up to her knees. True snow. Not white, but blue. It must be freezing her, but she couldn’t feel it. Don’t look back. There was no sound from the others. Perhaps they were dead too.
In the distance, she could hear the soldiers crashing through the undergrowth, their dogs baying with the heat of the chase, and her heart began to thud so maybe she was alive after all. But she didn’t feel it. A while ago she had been running, breathless and terrified, scattering like the others, frightened rabbits scenting the farmer. But now she only walked because she had no breath left and she didn’t know where she was or where she was going. Only that she must keep going. Keep on.
The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out and she froze in her tracks, staring around trying to gauge its direction. Had it come from in front or behind? There were no landmarks. The skeletal trees waved the same bony fingers in every direction she looked. And a horrible thought occurred to her. What if she was running towards the soldiers instead of away?
She whirled round. There were tracks in the snow going in every direction. Hers? There was another gunshot. Closer and yet still strangely elusive. Which way to go? If only Piotr was here. He would know what to do. She nodded vaguely to herself. Then a thought struck her. Something she had done. Something terrible. But, no. she couldn’t think about that now. Not in the confusion and the cold and the white blue snow. No. She wanted him to be with her. Wanted him here to hold her hand, to tell her what to do. If only he would come now, if only in spirit, just one more time to show her what she must do.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Susana Patrícia Laranjeiras
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Ines Corina Neuweiler
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