Winterton Blue: A Novel

Winterton Blue: A Novel

Trezza Azzopardi

Language: English

Pages: 288

ISBN: 0802143490

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“Beryl Bainbridge, Muriel Spark, and Graham Greene all come to mind, but Azzopardi’s style is all her own.”—Chicago Tribune

New York Times Editors’ Choice, the breathtaking third novel from Booker Prize finalist and national best-selling author Trezza Azzopardi is at once a powerful love story and an intricately plotted mystery that explores the staying power of family and memory, and the pull of unlikely but destined romance. For twenty years Lewis has been haunted by his brother’s death. Try as he might to escape this tragedy, the ghost of Wayne confronts him at every turn. When he meets Anna, a young woman who is also haunted—by her loud and carefree mother, Rita, who just so happens to be very much alive—Lewis is pulled into a world of carousing, music hall turns, and cocktails as he searches for the person he believes responsible for the death of his brother. Against the backdrop of the Norfolk coast with its massive skies and relentless seas, Anna and Lewis slowly learn to trust each other and accept that an uncertain future can be as wild and alluring as the landscape they have grown to love.

Halloween Mice!

The Reality Dysfunction (Night's Dawn Trilogy, Book 1)

Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, Book 3)

Trammelant op Trinidad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

of fake pine, but underneath is the more familiar, warm scent that Anna loves: old car. CD player, says Brendan, Thought we’d bring you into the twenty-first century. Brendan, it’s fantastic. How much do I owe you? Let’s call it a gift, he says, but before she can thank him, he adds, Well, okay, then, let’s call it rent. Rent, she nods, suddenly catching on. Because you’ll want to rent this place out while you’re gone, Brendan muses, leaning a hand on the hatch, And I can’t think of anyone

in her room, lying on the bed. She tried to tell herself that her sense of embarrassment was out of proportion; all she had to do was go in and shake his hand, make an effort to disperse the crowd. It would have been an easy, sociable act, and a kindness: if it were not for the man himself, the sight of him there. He wore an expression on his face which stopped her breath. From the first glance, Anna saw it: a look of desolation which couldn’t be combed out or polished off. She understood in that

careful measure before she replies. What’s the first thing I notice, Cabbage, about a man? Not quite knowing where this is leading, Vernon takes a guess. Um. His eyes? She passes Vernon a glass full to the brim, and holds out a smaller measure to Lewis. Just as he’s about to take it from her, she catches his wrist. His hands, Cabbage, I always notice a man’s hands. And I noticed yours when you arrived, Mr Lewis. Yours are very strong, aren’t they, and such long fingers. Artistic. As she

inscription. It was in the van, in the footwell, says Manny, jerking his head aside so the wind catches him face on, Under a pile of rubbish. Still covering for him, says Lewis, feeling the silver grow warm in his fist, What is it you do, Man? Do you sell on? Take orders? What? I thought you weren’t into drugs. Bloody scagheads, that’s what you called them. And that’s what they are. You won’t believe me, says Manny, But what I does is stays out of Carl’s business. And if Carl had still got

she says, You boys will just love it! Lewis stands outside the cinema and lights a cigarette. There are four films being shown: two action movies and two children’s films which look like action movies, only animated. Inside, the foyer is disappointingly modern: Lewis was hoping for stucco, for gold leaf and velvet, but there’s a long marble-effect counter for processing tickets and numerous food concessions competing for space. Just like everywhere else, he says, under his breath: and just like

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