To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. And we’re going to fight that old world down there. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. Your aunt liked the pheasant. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. Maggot lent her powerful aid, and, between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from all fears of being carried off against his will. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. " "Enschede.
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