This book is impossible to categorise - there is both joy and sorrow, hope and despair, lightness and depth. On one level, it's an epic family saga and on another, it's a changing collection of word pictures linked by people, events and history - like connections and memories evokes by a box of old photos. Ursula is the lynch pin - and I was enthralled by her stories and cared deeply for her. Commit time and belief and let the magic work.
Ursula felt herself being pulled under, deeper and deeper, as if she were miles out to sea, not within sight of the shore. Her little legs bicycled beneath her, trying to find purchase on the sand. If she could just stand up and fight the waves, but there was no longer any sand to stand on and she began to choke on water, thrashing around in panic. Someone would come, surely? Bridget or Sylvie, and save her. Or Pamela - where was she?
No one came. and there was only water. Water and more water. Her helpless little heart was beating wildly, a bird trapped in her chest. A thousand bees buzzed in the curled pearl of her ear. No breath. A drowning child, a bird dropped from the sky.