Almost English [antikvár]

Prologue Thursday, 29 December 1988 They do not know it, but the wolf is already at the gate. Seven o'clock on a moonlit night at the end of December; a terrible time for a party, and the guests are about to arrive. After the complex agony of invitations, the expense, the whipping of cream, the residents of Flat Two, Westminster Court, are almost too tired to greet their visitors, yet there is so much still to be done. They have been up since five in a fury of efficiency, wiping the underside of ornaments, Hoovering beneath the many rugs, rolling pastry, slicing cucumbers: innumerable tasks if this evening is to be perfect, as it must be. And now, while Marinas grandmother and great-aunts rest on their beds, Marina and her mother stand in front of the wardrobe in Marinas little room, pretending not to panic 'Can't I just wear my school jumper?' asks Marina. 'Lambswool's smart.' 'Maybe not enough, sweetheart,' says Laura, her mother. You know they hate . . . never mind. What about that green dress?' 'Grotesque,' says Marina.