to worry about air-crashes; not that he ever travelled by plane.
Perhaps I need to make some noise of my own, he thought. He went to the radiogram and eased out of the pile of records the one Isabel had given him for Christmas. She had not written on it of course, not even “To Colin with best wishes.” There was no written evidence, and really no evidence at all, of that segment of his life. He put the record on the turntable, and, on impulse, opened the french window and stepped out into the garden. A large waxen moon illuminated the rutted earth and the two apple trees near Florence’s fence, ancient trees bearing tiny acid fruit. They can come down, he thought, before Alistair breaks his leg. He shook himself, under the moon, trying to hustle the dread off his shoulders. His feet sank into the soil and from the house behind him the music bounded out into the twilight, thumping and swooping, wave after wave of
EVERYDAY IS MOTHER’S DAY. Copyright © 1985 by Hilary Mantel. All rights reserved. For information, address Picador, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the Henry Holt edition as follows:
Mantel, Hilary, 1952–
Every day is Mother’s Day / Hilary Mantel.—1st Owl Books ed.
p. cm.
“An Owl book.”
ISBN: 978-0-8050-6272-4
1. Mentally ill offenders—Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 3. Women social workers—Fiction. 4. Women mediums—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6063.A438 E94 2000
823'.914—dc21
99033537
Originally published in the United Kingdom by Chatto & Windus
First published in the United States by Henry Holt and Company
