Like a Fox to a Swallow

Ella Voss

Description

Helen Kings and Alma Carneggio couldn't be more different: Helen makes a living as a single-mum and partner in a London law firm, while Alma lives a privileged life as the wife of a Milanese industrial aristocrat. Yet, their lives are haunted by the same tragedy: the mysterious death of Luca Carneggio, Alma's son and Helen's lover- and the father of Helen's teenage daughter Emmy, an illegitimate child and therefore a disgrace to the Carneggio family. While Alma drifts through her days on painkillers and tranquillizers, hiding in her family's estate, Helen is keeping up the faade of a tough self-made woman. But in her quiet moments, only a ghost Luca keeps her company - and her resentment towards the Carneggios alive. She blames them for the dreams she had to give up. But as Emmy turns into a young adult, this truth is being challenged - until it finally falls apart.The reader follows Alma and Helen on their winded - and sometimes funny - ways to come to terms with their past, finding a new way of being after having lost what they loved the most. When Alma is suddenly stripped of her family corset, she begins to long for meeting her only granddaughter. But is it too late for a new beginning?

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 10 décembre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800468719
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2021 Ella Voss

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781800468719

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To The Women Of My Family
Contents
Acknowledgements

Prologue: Luca

Part I
1. Helen
2. Alma
3. Cinderella Fights
4. The People’s Queen
5. Red Claws and Almond Eyes
6. Tanker Blue
7. Cold as Stone
8. Before Midnight

Part II
9. In the Fog
10. Green Paws
11. The Cut-Out-Heart
12. The Little Swallow
13. Three Birds
14. Drinking Games
15. Shards
16. Behind the Blue Door
17. Half the Story

Part III
18. Penises
19. Not in this Life
20. Morning Glory
21. A Man Like My Dad
22. Monkey Theories
23. Seventeen Pictures
24. Running in Circles
25. Summer Solstice
26. Boxes
27. Betrayal

Part IV
28. Belated Wishes
29. Gone Girl
30. Helen Calls
31. Like a Fox to a Swallow
32. Legacy
33. Officially Invited
34. Serenity
35. A Walk in the Park
36. Like A Bird in the Sky
Acknowledgements
Writing a novel is a long journey, a full five years in this case. The challenge is that while an author oftentimes is an island, it still takes a village to write a book.
I am therefore forever indebted to my dear friends from across the world who have spent endless hours test reading and discussing the final drafts with me. A heartfelt thanks to Linda Martin, Elisabeth Wellington, Robert Colman, Vivian Zhu and Jennifer Schiffrin. Many times, I felt you had more faith in the story than I had – and everyone who has ever attempted to write a book knows that this is priceless.
I also owe a special thanks to the different teachers and mentors I met along the way – without your insights and encouragement I would never have pulled through. Thank you Julia Cho and the entire team at Hedgebrook for creating such an amazing space for writers, your support on the first chapters was vital to embark on this project. A big thanks also to Rita Banerjee for her relentless on character building and plot structure, to Alexander Chee for the encouragement to keep going after only reading a first wild draft and to Lisa Yarger for giving creative writing a home in Munich.
Last but not least, a big, heartfelt thanks to my writing group, the backbone of my writing life. You have been there from the first page to the very final version, you have been my harshest critics and biggest cheerleaders – and I am forever grateful. I can’t wait to read all your wonderful books in the making and look forward to many more fun projects with Elena Kotsiliti, Simone Heller, Sonia Focke, and Moushumi Sen Sharma.
Prologue: Luca
End of August 2001, Vittuone (Milan)
He was found in the early morning hours, his body leaning over the steering wheel, the neck bent sharply, folded like a piece of paper. Two officers, a senior commissario and his apprentice, noticed the tyre tracks in the grass on a routine patrol, and then saw the car wreck. A convertible Fiat 1500, wrapped around a tree trunk. The wide avenidas of Vittuone, leading towards the city of Milan, were framed by well-trimmed pine trees, with an accurate distance of half a kilometre between them. It was a precise hit and the old tree had given in. Its crown touched the ground.
They officers called for an ambulance and then circled the wreck. The cabin was badly mangled. The apprentice moved closer and finally went down on one knee, to be able to see the man’s face in the dim morning light. It was his first time seeing a dead man. The eyes were closed, the lips parted.
“There is almost something peaceful about him,” he said to his colleague. He admired the vintage Rolex on the dead man’s wrist, resting on the steering wheel, then pushed his hand on his knee to stand up again. He took a deep breath and diverted his gaze for a moment.
It had been a warm summer’s night; even now the air was mild with a faint fog lingering over the fields. For a moment, he daydreamed of arriving at a party in such a convertible and with the same watch. Then it struck him that the watch was still ticking, and the thought made his stomach turn. He jerked up and leaned forward.
The commissario looked to the other side, ignoring the retching sounds of his colleague.
“What could have gone wrong in a life like that… for the one who had it all?” he whispered to himself. He took off his hat, as if he were in church, then remembered that he was not and put it back on.
They began to take notes of the position of the car, walked back and forth to measure the distance from the road. With the light growing stronger, the birds woke for their morning concert. A flock of swallows rose to the sky.
And while the wailing of the ambulance grew louder, neither of them noticed the vixen and her cub, emerging on the edge of the field. She stopped, the wreck and the men blocking her way. She sat down and blinked, then led her cub back to shelter, forced to try another path.

Part I
1
Helen
4 January 2017, London (United Kingdom)
Helen Kings drove her aching toes deeper into the cap of her high heels, so the pain would distract her from her growling stomach. Over a phone call, she had forgotten to eat before leaving the office. Beer is food, she tried to tell herself, but cold beer on an empty stomach gave her cramps. Actually, nowadays her body punished her for every sip – and accepted milk only lactose-free.
“We got our kids a Labradoodle for Christmas.” A shrill woman’s voice forced Helen’s attention back to the phone screen in front of her nose. After a new log house in the mountains, the screen now showed three perfect children, cuddling a curly little puppy.
“Awww, that is adorable,” Helen said, pushing her toes a little harder. The senior partner who had initially agreed to meet Brenda and Mitch, two attorneys from California who brought in lucrative work, suddenly had to prepare for a hearing, and that’s where Helen came in. On the bright side, this was not an endless dinner, just drinks.
“It is, isn’t it? I mean, sure, he is a handful, but the kids are, they are like, so happy!” Brenda said, drawing out the ‘o’ in ‘so’. “Do you have any pets?”
“No, no time for pets. I have a daughter, but I don’t think she’s happy…” Helen said, beer on an empty stomach was indeed a bad idea.
After an uneasy pause, Brenda started to giggle hysterically. “Oh my, Helen, you are so funny! And one wouldn’t know you have a daughter, look at that flawless figure!”
Mitch dived even deeper into his Foster’s Extra Cold. Too many landmines in women-weight-conversations.
“Oh, now I’m flattered.” Helen scrambled for the only possible response: “You too!”
“Thanks! But seriously, what is your secret? Superfoods? Workouts?”
“Just no time to eat between work and family…”
Though she was being complimented here, Helen felt her pulse rise. With US colleagues, maintaining professional boundaries was close to impossible. As soon as they sat down, they felt the urge to boast about their husbands, kids and boats, whereas Europeans only looked for a more or less subtle way to mention their diplomas. Brenda had surely spotted that she wasn’t wearing a ring.
“Tell me about it! Although it is all a matter of organisation. Me and my husband, we do a lot of home-office. That helps tremendously! Mitch,” Brenda tried to loop her colleague back into the conversation, “how do you and your wife manage?”
Mitch then went on a real stretch to make his housewife-working husband arrangement sound modern. Of course he was all for women having a career: “It is just that Suzie really likes children and playing the piano and this is the best way for her to do what she really wants.”
Helen let her gaze wander across the room.
The Cittie of Yorke had already been serving drinks to lawyers when Thomas More rose against the king. Its high arched ceiling and dark wooden interiors carried a masculine smell of beer and smoke. To Helen, the pub was basically a forest of dark suits. Even if she went up on her tiptoes, despite the heels, she was still shorter than most people. The artful blonde knot crowning her head gave a few extra inches, but it did not help with the view. Upon passing through, she spotted a few familiar faces. The senior barrister who had been among the first she had worked with at the beginning of her career, another one who had been hitting on her for a while, sending her juicy mails without cc’ing his boss. She always kept a healthy distance to colleagues; anything else would be highly unprofessional.
She gazed along the counter where the barman handed over one pint after the other – and there he was. Out of nowhere. Leaning on the bar, with that smile; that confident, loving smile; and he looked her right in the eye. As if it had only been yesterday that she had found herse