Trespass

Cover Trespass
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Genres: Fiction
‘Help me!’ he cried out to her. ‘Help me, Maman . . .’ He knew she couldn’t hear him. Or, if she did hear him, if she did know what was in his heart and in his mind, then she wouldn’t give him any comfort, because she’d also know that he’d long ago put himself beyond her love.
But still he kept imagining her sweet face, calm and tender beside him. She was mending the holes in his own worn-out socks. She handled the darning needle as deftly as a high-class tailor. On her feet, she wore rubber bo
...ots, flecked with farmyard mud, to which little bits of damp grass still clung.
He began ransacking the house, looking for the keys to the hidden car.
The pain in his gut made him growl when he had to reach upwards to high shelves or the tops of armoires. He found ancient blankets, bitten to threads by moths. He found Serge’s fustian wartime coat with an S.T.O. badge still pinned to the lapel. He found a rolled map of the world, on which Europe looked large and Africa small. He found a selection of shoes and coat hangers and broken lampshades and torches.
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