Sea Babies by Tracey Scott Townsend
Blurb
Lauren Wilson is travelling by ferry to the Outer Hebrides, about to begin a new job as a social worker. When somebody sits opposite her at the cafeteria table, she refuses to look up, annoyed at having her privacy disturbed. But a hand is pushing a mug of tea towards her, and a livid scar on the back of the hand releases a flood of memories.
Some people believe in the existence of a parallel universe. Does Lauren have a retrospective choice about the outcome of a terrible recent accident, or is it the bearer of that much older scar who has the power to decide what happens to her now?
Author Information
Tracey Scott-Townsend: Bio
Tracey is the author of The Last Time We Saw Marion, Of His Bones, The Eliza Doll and Another Rebecca. Her fifth novel, Sea Babies will be released on 1stllection, So Fastwas published in January 2018.
Tracey is also a visual artist. All her work is inspired by the emotions of her own experiences and perceptions.
Tracey is the mother of four grown-up children and now spends a lot of time travelling in a small camper van with husband Phil and their rescue dogs, Pixie and Luna, gathering her thoughts and writing them down.
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Excerpt:
The darkness surprises me when I open
the door. Will I ever get used to such sudden nightfall in the mountains?
Then, in an instant, I’m thrown back
into the past. I once stood beside Neil in the National Museum of Scotland.
We’d gone to see an exhibition of Pre-Raphaelite paintings and I was transfixed
by this one particular painting: The Light of The World by William Holman Hunt. A luminescent
painted Jesus, wearing an elaborate gown of jewelled colours, holding a lantern
in the night. But this is a real person holding a lantern at my front door. I
take a shuddering breath, hastily closing my mouth which has fallen open like a
child’s, spellbound by magic after an exhausting greetin’ fit.
‘It’s an oil
lamp,’ the figure explains, proffering the flickering object at me. ‘I brought
it for you as a house warming present. Tha
mi toilicht do choinneachadh.
I’m happy to meet you.’ I still can’t speak. ‘Thought I’d light it to surprise
you. It comes from this house anyway – it belonged to my grandmother.’
‘Margaret?’ I
ask, half in a dream. I only now think to switch the porch light on. ‘Thank
you.’ My hand reaches out and grasps the wire handle of the lamp and I hold it
aloft in the style of Little Bo Peep, blinking. Short of air.
‘Aye,’ he’s
saying. ‘Margaret was my gran. Have you been talking to Peggy MacLeod, by any
chance?’
The flame in the lamp gusts to one side,
straightens again. I try to answer but my voice is reluctant to come out so I
cough, to clear my throat. ‘I have. She told me about your ma and da, but I
also found a photograph of Margaret on a shelf in the cupboard. I just sort of
guessed.’ My voice is still hoarse. ‘Hello, by the way.’ I transfer the lamp
into my left hand and extend my right for him to shake. ‘I’m Lauren.’
In the harsh porch light, his face breaks into a grin.
‘Pleased to meet you, Lauren. I’m Murdo. How are you settling in?’ He takes my
hand firmly. His grip makes me feel safe but also confused by the long moments
I spent staring at Neil’s hand on the ferry. Our hands detach and I can’t
resist the impulse to scan the back of Murdo’s for a scar but there is none.
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