This is going to be an information site about the book i am writing called Lord Altmont’s Gate. Both the page and the book are under construction. In the mean time, here is a wee paragraph from chapter 5, the chapter i am currently working on:
The gong rings out and shrouds the house in homely memories: a call to the breakfast room for ice-cream and juice; the “poc-poc – ooooh” of tennis on the telly; summer afternoons running through the hall into the kitchen where grandmother prepared lunch, mother boiled the kettle, chatting with uncles and aunts while somebody shouted at the kids to go and play outside. Uncle Edgar following with his wood-veneer Super-8 camcorder, running around the front lawn: uncle, sister, father, an army of cousins, Breffni and in later years, when the camera’s finish was tarnished and chipped, his brother – they thought themselves superstars in front of that camera! The sun filling the drawing-room through the bay window, making everything feel young. His great-grandmother, sat in the corner between fireplace and French door – the only person allowed keep her son-in-law’s chair when he entered the room. She would tell stories of her twenties in the twenties, when she lived in London on her own, speaking loudly as she was mostly deaf though she didn’t like to admit it, especially when one of her thirty odd great-grandchildren was playing a shaky rendition of Liszt or Bach on the piano – there were so many children that if we all lay down, we would have covered the surface of the house and still have had a few left over to run circles around the rest… They were loud lively times.
A red ivy leaf blows in through the door as Breffni pushes it closed.
