Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt (The Seven Sisters #8)

by Lucinda Riley

my arm and looked at me pleadingly.

of

rarely see you here in the kitchen.’ She

Weald.’ Flora slowly shut her eyes and

drawer, and never so much as look at.

another.’ ‘Flora, this is a family heirloom.’

High

our names on.’ I stroked my chin

estate, but imagine what we might

it was Arthur Morston Books you

Laurence.’ ‘Laurence? Allow me to compliment

mewl. ‘Poor child. Take him in your

positivity was inspiring, and a little infectious,

brother, Ralph Mackenzie. During the

in Adelaide. It is the grandest of the houses on Victoria Avenue, and

again,

as are the herbaceous borders

flowers, glossy green leaves and honey-scented

asked. Jimmy tentatively put a hand

contemplating his next words carefully.

not what it once was, is it, Evelyn?’ Evelyn laughed. ‘You are still

Pedy. He was focused intently on his

sniff. ‘What is your granddaughter’s

parroted. ‘Sí, yes. My spiritual ancestry.’

eyes. ‘Do not be fearful of what I am

through our bloodline.’

too.’ ‘Her daughter?’ I asked with

daughters promised to me by Angelina all

over a decade of growth. In the springtime,

had mentioned during our time together.

making her way to southern Italy for

of determined in carrying out what

daughter in this world had galvanised

had wept alone for three days, and

of green plants. In amongst the

light as a feather. ‘Regrettably, my grip is not as

which was shipped over to Brazil as

was only eighteen months old. There

smiles. ‘The universe works in magnificent

Beatriz’s parenthood, which I most certainly

road. ‘Marina’s at Le Lézard.’

moment. Probably for another ten

tights. ‘Eurgh, he stank,’ she said to

went on, taking the baby from Marina’s

a few of us with little ones. She

for

me

paper with the new information.

for what, thirty years now? And you

was profoundly upset by the news