The Diary of Pamela D.
“@page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } -5- ‘Come along, Pamela, you can ill-afford to be late. The concert can’t begin without its star soloist.’ Pamela smiled at Mrs. Pascoe’s exaggeration as she tied back her hair, which though still a mass of dark curls was much easier to manage since she’d let it grow out. After her recovery she’d had to make up for lost time as Easter and the concert approached. The choir-director, Mr. Howard, had intensified her vocal training as s...oon as she was well enough, on the pretense that Pamela and her voice were somehow an indispensable part of this year’s performance. Pamela, however, wasn’t fooled for a moment. There were four other sopranos with much more training, experience and natural ability than she could ever hope to have.
She well knew the true reason to be that everyone seemed bent on finding some small way to make her forget her experience at the hands of Albert Askrigg. Yet despite their efforts not a moment went by that she wasn’t aware that Albert Askrigg still roamed free, a monster in man’s form prowling the moors of Yorkshire, dangerous, pitiless, lethal, utterly without remorse.MoreLess
She well knew the true reason to be that everyone seemed bent on finding some small way to make her forget her experience at the hands of Albert Askrigg. Yet despite their efforts not a moment went by that she wasn’t aware that Albert Askrigg still roamed free, a monster in man’s form prowling the moors of Yorkshire, dangerous, pitiless, lethal, utterly without remorse.MoreLess
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