February 25, 2017

Another Part of the Wood (Flamingo) by Beryl Bainbridge

By Beryl Bainbridge

In a distant cottage in Wales, city are spending their vacation with an idealistic proprietor and his protege. in the beginning every little thing is idyllic, yet disaster lurks in the back of each tree, and because the vacation maintains their relationships begin to express their cracks, culminating in a sad finale.

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Extra resources for Another Part of the Wood (Flamingo)

Example text

As he ran water into the tin kettle a spider moved across the bottom of the sink. He removed the lid from the kettle and slopped water against the animal. Dismayed at its clinging persistence, he put down the kettle on the draining board and with the edge of the washing-up bowl rammed the spider into the plug hole and turned the tap violently. When Joseph reached the stream at the bottom of the valley, Roland immediately wanted his red boat to sail in the water. After an argument, Joseph unzipped the bag handed to him by his ex-wife in Liverpool and ferreted out the required toy.

Dotty can’t live without her Monopoly,’ he said. Cleaning the kite wool, Balfour nodded, expressing sympathy, he hoped, giving the blonde girl a quick glance. But she was looking at Joseph, with eyes narrowed, and he bent his head again. ’ Joseph addressed the figure in the car severely. ’ Stirred, Kidney opened the door of the Jaguar and stepped down. He looked at the ground and shifted his feet. ‘It was a bad journey,’ he repeated, face flushed and manner intent. Round and contoured like a girl, buttocks vast in his corduroy trousers, he waved fat hands in the summer air.

Tongue thick with alarm, Balfour moistened his worker lips. ’ He drank quickly, disliking the taste, hearing Joseph say, ‘A tool-fitter. How very obscene, but fascinating, I’m sure. ’ ‘Not with his hands,’ said George. ’ Gratefully Balfour echoed, ‘That’s right. ’ ‘It’s not very fascinating either,’ added George, swilling his wine round in the thick tumbler. ‘He’s been wanting to escape for years. ’ Oh God, blasphemed the inward Balfour, hating to be reminded of the better things. He drank his wine, not noticing the taste as much.

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