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Frank Baker

Miss Hargreaves

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When, on the spur of a moment, Norman Huntley and his friend Henry invent an eighty-three year-old woman called Miss Hargreaves, they are inspired to post a letter to their new fictional friend. It is only meant to be a silly, harmless game – until Miss Hargreaves arrives on their doorstep, complete with her cockatoo, her harp and – last but not least – her bath. She is, to Norman's utter disbelief, exactly as he had imagined her: enchanting, eccentric and endlessly astounding. He hadn't imagined, however, how much havoc an imaginary octogenarian could wreak in his sleepy Buckinghamshire home town, Cornford.Norman has some explaining to do, but how will he begin to explain to his friends, family and girlfriend where Miss Hargreaves came from when he hasn't the faintest clue himself? Will his once-ordinary, once-peaceful life ever be the same again? And, what's more, does he want it to?Miss Hargreaves is part of The Bloomsbury Group, a new library of books from the early twentieth-century chosen by readers for readers.
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309 páginas impresas
Año de publicación
2011
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  • Ирина Осипенкоcompartió una citahace 4 años
    A Friend for Tea

    ‘Muffins for tea!’ he used to cry,

    And fall into my chair.

    Above the soda-cake, tobacco

    Smoke lay on the air.

    Exhausted after Evening Prayer

    He’d play himself at Solitaire,

    Toy vaguely with his third éclair–

    Happy young hostess I!

    Now when I light my lamp and drain

    My cup beside the fire,

    I see the ghost of him I lack. Oh

    Memory retire!

    Muffins for tea . . . My thoughts conspire

    To conjure up King’s College Choir

    And happy days in Cambridgeshire

    That will not come again.
  • Ирина Осипенкоcompartió una citahace 6 años
    When I wrote essays at school I was always told to begin at the beginning and end at the end. I’m not at all sure that this story has an end. As for a beginning–well, in my opinion it really begins–as I began–with my father. Anyway that’s where I’m going to start.
  • Ирина Осипенкоcompartió una citahace 6 años
    Huntley’s bookshop is as well known as the Cathedral. Most days I work there with father, except when I’m studying music. We sell everything, modern and old, any language you like. Though I say it myself, Cornelius Huntley knows a good deal more about books than you’d imagine from his rather muddled talk.

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