How Will I Know [antikvár]

It takes more than me at the computer to get the print on the pages so thanks to:Carole Blake who makes me feel like I know what I'm doingMarion Donaldson who reminds me of what I'm meant to be doingTeam Headline who know what they're doing (thankfiilly)My family who have always supported me doing what I'm doing (even when it means forgetting them sometimes - sorry about that)My friends who let me get on with doing what I'm doing and who very kindly buy the end resultColm who often makes me do something elseAnd special thanks all of you who buy my books, who make doing what I do, and what I always wanted to do - writing them - so wonder fill by your support and encouragement. Extra thanks to everyone who has taken the time out to sign the guestbook on my website www.sheilaoflanagan.net. Whenever I worry about how things are going I read the comments and feel energised again. I really appreciate it. Thank you again!ChapterAnchusa (Summer For^et-Me-Not) - Blue, white, pink or mauve star-shaped blossoms cover branching stems. Water in dry weather.Claire woke up earlier than usual on the morning Georgia was due to go to summer camp for a month. She lay in bed with her eyes closed for a couple of minutes while she tried to figure out what was different about the day and then it struck her. It was the absence of noise - more especially the absence of the gentle hiss of rain which had been present every single morning for the last two weeks - that had woken her. The only sound was of the birds singing in the apple trees outside the house.She opened her eyes and slid out from under the sheets. The early-morning sun - something she hadn't seen in ages - filtered through the chink in the heavy damask curtains. She pulled them open and blinked in the unexpectedly bright light. Then she took her white silk robe from the back of the bedroom door and tiptoed downstairs so that she wouldn't wake her fourteen-year-old daughter. Not, she thought, that there was really much chance of that. Most mornings a pickaxe wouldn't have gone amiss when trying to prise Georgia out of bed - Claire would spend ages shaking her and calling out her name before Georgia budged. But she felt that this morning might be different, because Georgia was thrilled about her trip to the Irish College in Galway and had been wildly overexcited the night before. It had taken all Claire's powers of persuasion to get her to bed in the first place, and she knew that Georgia had spent at least an hour reading or listening to her shiny pink iPod in her room afterwards because she'd been able to see the glow of the light from