Книги, похожие на «Caroline Anderson, The Valtieri Baby»

They wrote it on the wall above my bed. Hello, it said, my name is May. Please talk to me.May has been moved to a care home after her stroke. She can’t communicate, all her words are kept inside. If she tries to point, her arms swing in wild directions, if she tries to talk, strange noises come out of her mouth.May is sharp, quick, and funny, but only her daughter Jenny sees this, and Jackie, a new friend at the home who cares enough to look and listen closely.When May discovers that someone very familiar, from long ago, is living in the room opposite hers she is haunted by scenes from her earlier life, when she was a prisoner of her husband’s unpredictable rages. Bill, the man in the opposite room seems so much like her husband, though almost a lifetime has passed, and May’s eyesight isn’t what it was.As Bill charms his way through the nursing home, he focuses his romantic attention on Jackie, while all May can do is watch. She is determined to protect Jackie and keep herself safe, but what can she do in her vulnerable, silent state?

I’m on a train. I don’t know which stop I got on at; I only know the train is going fast and the world outside becomes a blur. I should get off, but I don’t.The universe is playing a cosmic joke on me. Here I had my life – a good life with everything a woman could want – and suddenly, there is something more I didn’t know I could have. A chance for me to be satisfied and content and maybe even on occasion deliriously, amazingly, exuberantly fulfilled.So this is where I am, on a train that’s out of control, and I am not just a passenger. I’m the one shovelling the furnace full of coal to keep it going fast and faster. If I could make myself believe it all happened by chance and I couldn’t help it, that I’ve been swept away, that it’s not my fault, that it’s fate… would that be easier? The truth is, I didn’t know I was looking for this until I found Will, but I must’ve been, all this time.And now it is not random, it is not fate, it is not being swept away.This is my choice.And I don’t know how to stop.Or even if I want to.