giovedì 24 marzo 2016

The Lost and Found Life of Rosy Bennett by Jan Birley


Release Date: 11.04.2015




Synopsis:

Rosy loved her London life – her job in a designer shop, her gorgeous West London family house and of course her gorgeous family (although young sons are enough to test anyone at times). All that disappears when, one unremarkable morning, after one unremarkable school run, her husband collapses on a crowded tube carriage and dies. As she struggles her way through the grief, she discovers her husband’s secret life: secrets accounts, secret deals that their solicitor knew nothing of, secret debts and what looks like a secret “very close friend” at least. 
Totally unprepared and suddenly in debt, Rosy is forced to leave London to start a new life with her incredibly reluctant boys in the countryside. Can angsty urban teenagers cope with farm life, let alone enjoy it? More to the point, can their mother? It’s certainly not going to be easy but when you are at rock bottom the only way is up.


Review:



This was a good book. The plot and the writing picked my interest since the beginning and the mystery to discover pushed me to greedily turn page after page.

Rosy Bennett,our heroine,was a likable character. She seems so real that I felt really bad for her at the beginning and I was really happy at the end.

I've appreciated that she never gave up even if it wasn't easy to leave the city she knows and loves,her best friend and her siter to go to live in an alpaca farm in a little village with her two sons.But she succeeds to reorganise her whole life counting only on herself,trusting her choices,fighting for the things she started to love.

I've really enjoyed this novel and I highly recommend it.


Excerpt:

Two burly Aussies were running up and down the stairs, cracking jokes and tossing boxes as though they were feathers into the removal van. Another was in the kitchen, arm-deep in bubble wrap, sorting out her cupboards. Rosy and the boys were in the family room, all three shell-shocked that they were really leaving. None of them spoke but looked round disconsolately at their lives disappearing into cardboard. 

Rosy broke the silence. ‘Come on guys, it isn’t going to be that bad. You can have friends to stay, we’re not emigrating.’ 

 ‘May as well be.’ James half-heartedly kicked the sofa, head drooping. Rosy attempted to put her arm around his shoulders but he pushed her away. She looked across at Archie who managed a small grin as he trudged up the stairs carrying a box.

‘This would never be happening if Dad was still here,’ James said angrily.

Probably not, thought Rosy tiredly. Or maybe it would? God knows what he had intended for us. She bit back these words but found herself saying firmly, ‘James. I am doing the best I can. For your information, I don’t want to go either. So just for once, put up and shut up.’ 

At least he was still speaking to her.

Emma’s voice called down. ‘Thought I’d come and say goodbye. How’s it going?’ 

Boot and jean-clad legs appeared down the stairs. Rosy and James looked at her, their shoulders hanging down miserably.

‘Ah, like that is it? Good job I’ve brought cake, macaroons, two bags of Doritos and sweeties too…’

‘Yes, and I’ve got a box of basics for when you get there.’ Clare, ever practical, appeared at the top of the stairs.

Rosy looked up, tears in her eyes at their kindness, thinking how much she was going to miss them. As if reading her thoughts, Clare said, ‘And I shall probably see much more of you, I’ll be coming down all the time. You’ll be sick of me. Can’t wait to see the farm and the animals.’

They took the bags from Emma as Rosy hugged her. ‘Rosy, you are not to start getting weepy. For heaven’s sake, it's Easter shortly, I’m coming to stay soon. By then you’ll probably be thinking Dorset’s the best thing that’s ever happened.’

James looked slightly mollified. They went up to join Clare and Archie in the kitchen; the Aussies had succeeded in clearing out the place in less time than it usually took Rosy to mop the floor. She walked into the empty drawing room, which seemed to have doubled in size and looked around at the rectangles left on the walls where pictures had hung. 

Heartbroken, she put her hand on the mantelpiece and whispered goodbye to her home, determined that they should get this over and go as soon as possible. Tears dribbled down her cheeks and she wiped them away quickly, not wanting the boys to see her misery.

By late morning, the van had left. Their car was stuffed with all the things they would need immediately and the three of them stood awkwardly looking at the front door. She gazed back into the hall at the skirting where Simon had promised to paint the scuffs that their Cresta Run games had made. Already this didn’t feel like home anymore.

‘Don’t worry, Emma and I will sort out anything left here; we’ll drop the keys in at the agents. You go, you want to get there in good time.’ Clare squeezed her nephews and pushed them outside. They climbed into the car, reluctance clear in every movement. 

‘Thank you so much for everything. I don’t know what I would have done…’ 

‘Yes, we know. Off you go.’ Emma caught hold of her hand. ‘Come on.’

Rosy picked her bag up from the hall floor, looking sadly round for the last time and hugged each of them in turn, not daring to speak, knowing her voice would break. She turned and fled to the car, jumping in and starting up the engine. To disguise their tears, they all waved frantically at Emma and Clare standing on the doorstep. She drove off, still not trusting herself to speak.









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