Автор: John Lynch

Hauntingly told and emotionally charged, this is an immense story of consuming addiction and the betrayal of trust.’I knew that the black dot of pain that lay in the centre of his eyes also lay in mine, and that it was a stain that no amount of washing or praying could shift. I think of my loneliness, how it coils around the centre of my being like a long thread of steel and realise that my father must have been the same, he stood on the outside of our family condemned as an ogre, just as I do now.’Gabriel O’Rourke seemingly has everything: a loving wife, an adoring young…

Set in his native Northern Ireland, John Lynch’s debut novel is a lyrically told and exquisitely tender story of innocence and loss.‘He remembers when he was very young standing by water…How he had got there or where the pond was he couldn’t remember, but he can vaguely recall a larger hand on his and being led through the high rooms of a large building, to a large garden, where bees wove dozy patterns in the air. At the bottom of this garden lay the large pond, and he remembers a face bending to meet his and whispering that he would be back in a little while. So he stood where he…