In a terraced house in Battersea, Ester Hammerhans came tearing down the stairs with one arm through a cardigan sleeve, the rest flapping at her legs, and turned off the hob. The kettle stopped its screaming, throwing out hysterical clouds of steam. Ester found the teapot and filled it with hot water, some spilling over the work surface. The tea leaves had been forgotten, something she discovered five minutes later, after a wild campaign with the washing up. "Idiots!" she cursed the tea leaves, beating them into the water with a spoon.... Mr. Chartwell by Rebecca Hunt (coming Feb. 2011!)
Friday, December 10, 2010
First Lines...
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