At the Water's Edge - Hardcover

Gruen, Sara

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0385664486 ISBN 13: 9780385664486

Verlag: Bond Street Books, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

In her stunning new novel, Gruen returns to the kind of storytelling she excelled at in Water for Elephants: a historical timeframe in an unusual setting with a creature who may or may not be the hero of the story.
     After embarrassing themselves at the social event of the year in high society Philadelphia on New Year's Eve of 1942, Maddie and Ellis Hyde are cut off financially by Ellis's father, a former army colonel who is already embarrassed by his son's inability to serve in WWII due to color-blindness. Ellis decides that the only way to regain his father's favor is to succeed in a venture his father attempted and very publicly failed at: he will hunt the famous Loch Ness monster and, when he finds it, he will restore his father's name and return to his father's good graces (and pocketbook). Joined by their friend Hank, a wealthy socialite, the three make their way to Scotland in the midst of war. Each day, the two men go off to hunt the monster, while another monster, Hitler, is devastating Europe. Meanwhile, Maddie undergoes a social awakening: to the harsh realities of life, to the beauties of nature, to a connection with forces larger than herself, to female friendship, and, finally, to love.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Sara Gruen is the #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of At the Water's Edge, Water for Elephants, Ape House, Riding Lessons, and Flying Changes. Her works have been translated into forty-three languages and have sold more than ten million copies worldwide. Water for Elephants was adapted into a major motion picture starring Reese Witherspoon, Rob Pattinson, and Christoph Waltz in 2011. She lives in western North Carolina with her husband and three sons, along with their dogs, cats, horses, birds, and the world’s fussiest goat.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

EXCERPT Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia, December 31, 1944

“Five! Four! Three! Two!”

The word “one” had already formed on our lips, but before it could slide off there was an explosion overhead. As screams rose around us, I pitched myself against Ellis, tossing champagne over both of us. He threw an arm protectively around my head and didn’t spill a drop.

When the screams petered out, I heard a tinkling above us, like glass breaking, along with an ominous groaning. I peeked out from my position against Ellis’s chest.

“What the hell?” said Hank, without a hint of surprise. I think he was the only person in the room who hadn’t jumped.

All eyes turned upward. Thirty feet above us, a massive chandelier swung on its silver-plated chain, throwing shimmering prisms across the walls and floor. It was as if a rainbow had burst into a million pieces, which were now dancing across the marble, silks, and damask. We watched, transfixed. I glanced nervously at Ellis’s face, and then back at the ceiling.

An enormous cork landed next to General Pew, our host at what was easily the most anticipated party of the year, bouncing outrageously like a bloated mushroom. A split second later a single crystal the size of a quail’s egg fell from the sky and dropped smack into his cocktail, all but emptying it. He stared, bemused and tipsy, then calmly took out his handkerchief and dabbed his jacket.

As everyone burst into laughter, I noticed a footman in old-fashioned knee breeches perched near the top of a stepladder, pallid, motionless, struggling to contain the biggest bottle of champagne I’d ever seen. On the marble table in front of him was a structure of glasses arranged so that if someone poured continuously into the top one, they would eventually all be filled. As a rush of bubbles cascaded over the sides of the bottle and into the footman’s sleeves, he stared in white-faced horror at Mrs. Pew.

Hank assessed the situation and apparently took pity on the fellow. He raised his glass, as well as his other hand, and with the flair and flourish of a ringmaster boomed, “One! Happy New Year!”

The orchestra struck up “Auld Lang Syne.” General Pew conducted with his empty glass, and Mrs. Pew beamed at his side—not only was her party a smashing success, but it now had a comic anecdote people would speak of for years.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne . . .

Those who knew the words sang along. I had refreshed my memory that afternoon in order to be ready for the big moment, but when cork met crystal, the lyrics were knocked straight out of my brain. By the time we got to running about slopes and picking daisies fine, I gave up and joined Ellis and Hank in la-la-la’ing our way through the rest.

They waved their glasses in solidarity with General Pew, their free arms looped around my waist. At the end, Ellis leaned in to kiss me.

Hank looked to one side, then the other, and appeared baffled.

“Hmm. I seem to have misplaced my date. What have I done with her?”

“What you haven’t done is marry her,” I said and then snorted, nearly expelling champagne through my nose. I had sipped my way through at least four glasses on an empty stomach and was feeling bold.

His mouth opened in mock offense, but even he couldn’t pretend ignorance about Violet’s growing desperation at the seemingly endless nature of their courtship.

“Did she actually leave?” he said, scanning the room a little more seriously.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Then who will give me my New Year’s kiss?” he asked, looking bereft.

“Oh, come here, you big lug.” I stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’ve always got us. And we don’t even require a ring.”

Ellis threw us an amused side eye and motioned to Hank that he should wipe my lipstick off his cheek.

Beyond him, the footman was still balanced on the second to highest rung of the stepladder. He was bent at the waist, trying to aim the bottle at the top glass, and had gone from pale to purple with the effort. His mouth was pressed into a grim line. I looked around to see if reinforcements were coming and didn’t see any.

“Ellis? I think he needs help,” I said, tilting my head in the footman’s direction.

Ellis glanced over. “You’re right,” he said, handing me his glass. “Hank? Shall we?”

“Do you really think she’s left?” Hank said wistfully, his lips hovering near the edge of his
glass. “She was a vision tonight. That dress was the color of the gloaming, the sequins jealous stars in the galaxy of her night, but nothing, nothing could compare to the milky skin of her—”

“Boys! Concentrate!” I said.

Hank snapped back to life. “What?”

“Maddie thinks that man needs help,” said Ellis.

“That thing’s enormous,” I said. “I don’t think he can hold it on his own.”

“I should think not. That’s a Balthazar,” said Ellis.

“That’s not a Balthazar,” Hank said. “That’s a Nebuchadnezzar.”

The footman’s arms were quaking. He began pouring but missed. Champagne fell between the glasses, splashing onto the table and floor. His gloves and sleeves were saturated.

“Uh-oh,” said Hank.

“Uh-oh indeed,” said Ellis. “Mrs. Pew will not be pleased.”

“I rather suspect Mrs. Pew is never pleased,” Hank said.

Rivulets of sweat ran down the footman’s forehead. It was plain to see that he was going to fall forward, right onto the glasses. I looked to Mrs. Pew for help, but she had disappeared. I tried to signal the General, but he was holding court with a replenished cocktail.

I dug my elbow into Ellis’s side.

“Go!” I said urgently. “Go help him.”

“Who’s she talking about?” said Hank.

I glared at him, and then some more, until he remembered.

“Oh! Of course.” He tried to hand me his glass, but I was already holding two. He set his on the floor and yanked his lapels in a businesslike manner, but before he and Ellis could mobilize, help arrived in the form of other servants bearing four smaller but still very large bottles, and three more stepladders. Mrs. Pew glided in behind them to make sure all was under control.

“Now those are Balthazars,” said Hank, with a knowing nod. He retrieved his drink from the floor and drained it.

“No. Those are Jeroboams,” said Ellis.

“I think I know my champagne,” said Hank.

“And I don’t?”

“I think you’re both wrong. Those are Ebenezers,” I said.

That stopped them.

I broke into tipsy giggles. “Ebenezer? Get it? Christmas? The holidays? Oh never mind.
Someone get me another. I spilled mine.”

“Yes. On me,” said Ellis.

Hank spun around and set his glass on the tray of a passing waiter. He clapped his hands. “All right, who’s up for a snowball fight?”

We toppled outside and made snow angels right there in front of the Pews’ home...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Bond Street Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2015
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0385664486
• ISBN 13: 9780385664486
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar