Category: Sarnia

Extracts from Sarnia

Skulduggery

Hilary Ford on the genesis of Sarnia: I envisaged a woman of the late nineteenth century marrying into this milieu, finding it unendurable and fleeing back with her child to the more ordinary hazards of...

Not a true lady

It was Sarnia’s habit to cross the road by the entrance to Chancery Lane, where the sweeper was Gimpy Jimmy. He was a tall thin white-haired man who had left a leg in Spain, fighting under the Duke’s command. He would never accept a coin from her, and she had ceased to urge it on him. He was puzzled, she knew, by the fact that, although a lady in appearance, she went to work. He himself was not in need of money. The position was a good one, and he had lived frugally and saved over the years.

Chop House

They went to Stone’s Chop House in Holborn, and sat at a table at the rear. The place was full of its usual mid-day bustle of activity: waiters jostling down the narrow aisle with plates...

A capital idea

On Thursday, when Michael took Sarnia to luncheon, he said: ‘I have a capital idea for next Sunday. We will take the train to Brighton, and bathe in the sea.’ ‘I am afraid I cannot.’...

A woman’s place

‘The position of women in our society is a thing that troubles me deeply. For all the progress we have made and are making, for all the advancements of science, there are respects in which...

First sight of the island

Sarnia went up on deck with the Jelains and stared about her. The morning was blue and still, the sea a deeper blue, with only the gentlest of swells on which the mail packet rocked,...

An abominable dancer

‘An abominable dancer, as I say,’ d’Aurigny said. ‘I lay no claim to excellence myself, but I promise you I am doing you a favour by exchanging for him.’

She stared at him, feeling her face go white.

‘You do me no favours of any kind, sir. There is only one you can do, which is to grant me freedom from your company.

A quickening in the blood

Edmund seated himself beside her. ‘Your face is very wet.’ He drew a handkerchief from his sleeve. ‘Let me dry that, at least.’ She did not look at him as his hand gently rubbed her...

A stew of intrigue

Hilary Ford, reflecting on the Gothic: “Have you ever thought of that – having a go at the Gothic?” I had read, enjoyed and admired Rebecca, but the image that immediately sprang to mind was...

Love-apples

‘You must have some of these sandwiches, cousin, made with Guernsey lobster. And here is a fruit as an accompaniment.’ He offered her a dish of round red fruits with rough wrinkled skins. ‘Do you...