At its end was a granite hitching post; beyond, the patchwork of fields and pastures running down to the sea. Sinnie set down a bowl of mashed turnips on the table between Mary and William. Steam spiralled, blue in the dusty September sunshine. Littlemary, five, retched. She slipped from the bench at the children’s table and fell to her hands and knees, where she vomited violently. She took a breath and broke into a wail until choked by another paroxysm of retching. The boys were on their feet. “Samuel, ride for Dr. Clark,” William rapped. He lifted the little girl in his arms, carried her up the stairs. Mary stood by the table, one hand clutching a napkin. The other hand fell slowly to her side. “Sit,” she said to the boys—William, Maher and Henry. They returned to the long bench. Baby Charles sat in an arrow-back high chair. “Sinnie, will you see that the meal is served and eaten?” Her heart raced. Dr. Clark bade William tighten a tourniquet around Littlemary’s forearm.
What do You think about A Measure Of Light (2015)?
