The Quietness

by Alison Rattle

Overview

A gripping, moving and haunting Victorian drama from a debut author

When fifteen-year-old Queenie escapes from the squalid slums of nineteenth-century London, she has no idea about the dangers of the dark world she is about to become embroiled in. Initially thrilled at being taken on as a maid for the seemingly respectable Waters sisters, Queenie comes to realise that something is very wrong with the dozens of strangely silent babies being 'adopted' into the household.

Meanwhile, lonely and unloved sixteen-year-old Ellen is delighted when her handsome and charming young cousin Jacob is sent to live with her family. She thinks she has finally found a man to fall in love with and rely on, but when Jacob cruelly betrays her she finds herself once again at the mercy of her cold-hearted father. Soon the girls' lives become irrevocably entwined in this tension-filled drama. THE QUIETNESS is a novel of friendship and trust in the darkest of settings.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781471401022
Publisher:	Bonnier Books UK
Publication date:	03/07/2013
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	288
File size:	485 KB
Age Range:	16 - 18 Years

About the Author

Alison grew up in Liverpool, and now lives in a medieval house in Somerset with her three teenage children, her partner - a carpenter - an extremely naughty Jack Russell and a ghost cat. She has co-authored a number of non-fiction titles on subjects as diverse as growing old, mad monarchs, how to boil a flamingo, the history of America and the biography of a nineteenth-century baby killer. She has worked as a fashion designer, a production controller, a painter and decorator, a barmaid, and now owns and runs a vintage tea room. THE QUIETNESS is Alison's first novel for young adult readers.
Alison grew up in Liverpool, and now lives in a medieval house in Somerset with her three children, her husband - a carpenter - an extremely naughty Jack Russell and a ghost cat. She has co-authored a number of non-fiction titles on subjects as diverse as growing old, mad monarchs, how to boil a flamingo, the history of America and the biography of a nineteenth-century baby killer. She has worked as a fashion designer, a production controller, a painter and decorator, a barmaid, and now owns and runs a travelling vintage tea room. Alison has also published three previous YA books about young Victorian women with Hot Key Books - The Quietness, The Beloved and The Madness. Follow Alison at www.alisonrattle.com or on Twitter: @alisonrattle

Read an Excerpt

It was a wet day. The rain had turned the roads to sludge. Everyone unlucky enough to be out on the streets hurried past Queenie, without even glancing at the heap of fruit she'd polished to gleaming on her skirts. No matter how hard she shouted,
"PENNY A LOT...FINE RUSSETS! or "EIGHT A PENNY, STUNNING PEARS!"

It was the worst of days. Queenie and Da had been shouting themselves hoarse for hours; Da with his tray of apples strung round his neck and Queenie with a basket of pears balanced on her head. On good days they could easily take two shillings and Mam would buy a bit of bacon and butter to have with their bread, and sometimes they'd have 'taters, roasted crisp in the fire. But today was different. They hadn't even made enough pennies for a hot pie and a glass of beer.
Da swore under his breath, "Sod this for a trade. How's a man to wet his bleedin' throat?" His face had turned red and Queenie knew his temper would soon be flaring. "Come on my gal," he suddenly shouted. "If the beggars won't come to us, we'll go to them."
...

The room inside was long and low, the floorboards rotten and covered with dirty remains of straw. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and the sour smell of vomit. Customers crowded around the bar drinking; painted women groaned and cursed, and men with red, bloated faces and beady eyes reached out their hands to grab at her flesh.
"Here's a pretty one ripe for the plucking," said a voice.
Hot breath so close she could taste it.
"Over here missy. A penny for a kiss and a feel of your arse."
A shiny brown penny was lying on the floor. As Queenie bent to pick it up, stubby fingers found their way up her skirt and prodded at her where they shouldn't. The pears fell from her apron, but the penny was warm in her hand. She stood up and looked around at the leering faces.
"A PENNY FOR A FEEL OF A RIPE, JUICY ARSE!" she shouted, and ten minutes later she was back on the street with a handful of coins and the rain cooling the burning of her cheeks.