Книги, похожие на «M. Thomas Gammarino, King of the Worlds»

Moving between Ghana and London, Hold is an intimate, powerful coming-of-age novel. It’s a story of friendship and family, shame and forgiveness; of learning what we should cling to, and when we need to let go.‘You have to imagine. That’s how I told myself.’‘Imagine what?’‘Imagine that you are the kind of girl that can cope with it, even if you are not.’Belinda knows how to follow the rules. She has learnt the right way to polish water glasses, to wash and fold a hundred handkerchiefs, and to keep a tight lid on memories of the village she left behind when she came to Kumasi to be a housegirl.Mary is still learning the rules. Eleven years old and irrepressible, the young housegirl-in-training is the little sister Belinda never had.Amma has had enough of the rules. A straight-A pupil at her exclusive South-London school, she has always been the pride of her Ghanaian parents. Until now. Watching their once-confident teenager grow sullen and wayward, they decide that sensible Belinda might be just the shining example Amma needs.So Belinda is summoned from Ghana to London, to befriend a troubled girl who shows no desire for her friendship. She encounters a city as bewildering as it is exciting, and as she tries to impose order on her unsettling new world, Belinda’s phonecalls back home to Mary become a lifeline.As the Brixton summer turns to autumn, Belinda and Amma are surprised to discover the beginnings of an unexpected kinship. But when the cracks in their defences open up, the secrets they have both been holding tight to threaten to seep out…

'I won't be working for the next week—unless you'd rather stay home with Sophie?'Sophie would adore having her daddy all to herself—and maybe nursing his daughter through her illness was the wake-up call Oliver needed. The thing that would make him start concentrating on his family. Though Rachel already knew what his reaction was going to be.'No, she needs her mum with her.'Sophie needed her dad, too. So did Robin. But Rachel wasn't feeling up to a row. 'If you think it's best,' she said coolly.Oliver raked a hand through his dark hair. 'Don't worry. I'll sort things out at the practice.'Hell. Why did he have to look so sexy when she didn't have time to do anything about it? Since they'd had the children they didn't spend Sunday mornings in bed any more. Rachel realised just how much she missed it—the warmth of her husband's body heating hers, tangled limbs, the roughness of the hairs on his chest against her skin.Then she remembered last night. The guiltgift—chocolates that she hadn't been able to face eating because she knew why he'd bought them and they would have stuck in her throat…