The Stolen Years

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Fiona Hood-Stewart. The Stolen Years

The Stolen Years. Fiona Hood-Stewart

Contents

Part One. 1917–1918

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

Part Two. 1918–1932

10

11

12

13

14

15

Part Three. 1934–1947

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

Part Four. 1962–1998

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

Отрывок из книги

“Angus,” she gasped in amazement. “Is it really you?” Tears burst forth as she threw her arms around the stiff, motionless figure. Then, leaning back and holding his hands, she realized that his eyes were devoid of expression. “Angus.” She shook him anxiously. “Angus, it’s me, Flo. Say something, please.” She shook him again gently. Then another thought occurred. Gavin. Where was Gavin? She glanced around, as though expecting to see him among the group of men smoking and playing cards. Then she squeezed Angus’s hand once more.

“Angus, you’re all right now. You’re with me.” His eyes flickered and her heart leapt. “Oh, Angus, darling, please. Please come back. Please tell me where Gavin is,” she whispered, almost to herself.

.....

Making sure the coast was clear, Gavin followed her across the alley and slipped inside the hut, closing the door hastily behind him before striking a match. As his eyes became accustomed to the dark, he recognized a bed and what appeared to be piles of clean laundry in the corner. He laid the matchbox on the table, fascinated by the shafts of moonlight lighting Annelise’s hair. In one swift movement he reached up, pulled the pins from the neat chignon she wore and watched the thick, silvery-blond mass fall about her shoulders. Then their bodies cleaved impatiently and they tumbled onto the tiny bed, the need for one another too acute.

Fumbling with excitement, he undid his pajamas, all danger forgotten as she raised her buttocks in a brazen demand for satisfaction, and slipped his fingers between her firm thighs, savoring her need, her stifled gasps, prolonging the moment for as long as he could before entering her with a swift, hard thrust. She moaned softly, writhing as he grasped her waist, and they fell into a frantic rhythm. When he came, he spewed all the pain, doubt and anger of the past months, and let out a sigh of satisfaction as he leaned against her, still feeling her throb. Then, as he opened his eyes, he heard Annelise mutter a strange name in a muffled whisper. All at once, he realized with a shock why she hadn’t wanted to look into his eyes. They were the wrong ones.

.....