Marita Conlon-McKenna

Wildflower Girl

The second book in the famine trilogy

At seven, Peggy made a terrifying journey through famine-stricken Ireland. Now thirteen, and determined to make a new life for herself, she sets off alone across the Atlantic to America. Will she ever see her family again?

An extraordinary story of courage, independence and adventure

The other books in the Famine trilogy are Under the Hawthorn Tree and Fields of Home. A study guide to Under the Hawthorn tree is also available.
170 trykte sider
Oprindeligt udgivet
2013

Vurderinger

    sophieegan1199har delt en vurderingsidste år
    👍Værd at læse
    💩Meningsløs
    💀Uhyggelig
    🙈Ikke min kop te
    🔮Overraskende
    💡Lærerig
    🎯Læseværdig
    💞Superromantisk
    🌴God til stranden
    🚀Opslugende
    😄Vildt sjov
    💤Mega kedelig!
    🐼Vildt sød
    💧Tåreperser

    Crap

    Anna Chasovikovahar delt en vurderingsidste år
    👍Værd at læse

Citater

    Lauren Coehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    listened. There and then she decided to keep well out of the way of the dog, who was given the run of the house. But five days later trouble struck.
    * * *
    Peggy had just finished cleaning out the grate and resetting the fire in Roxanne’s room. I’ll light it later, she thought. The sun streamed in, showing the bright feminine room to full advantage, with its drapes and frills and cherrywood wardrobe and dressing table.
    Peggy moved down the hallway and was just starting to clean the Master’s room when she heard the screams.
    Roxanne appeared in her dressing gown. ‘Mother, come and see what she’s done!’
    Peggy looked up. ‘What is it, Miss Roxanne?’ Perhaps she’d dropped some ash on the mat or maybe the fuel had fallen out. She went back to the room to check.
    ‘Mother, look at my dress!’ cried Roxanne.’I need it for my tea party with the Abbots this afternoon. Can’t you see what she’s done?’
    Peggy looked at the dress. It had been flung rather carelessly across the bed. It was pale cream, with a neat waist and butter-coloured panels. Right across the centre lay a succession of black smudges and marks.
    ‘Ashes and dust all over my dress. Why couldn’t that stupid maid, Bridget or whatever she’s called, keep her filthy hands to herself.’
    ‘I didn’t touch the dress, Miss Roxanne, I give you my word,’ Peggy answered, totally flabbergasted by Roxanne’s reaction. Peggy moved closer to look at the dress and then she noticed it – there was a definite pattern to the marks.
    ‘Miss Roxanne, those are not finger marks. If you look closely you’ll see they’re paw marks. Bonaparte must have come in from the garden. Every day I clean up marks just like them from the floor and paintwork.’
    The Mistress nodded at Peggy. ‘Now, Roxanne, you know Peggy is right. Anyway I’ve told you to keep the dog out of your room.’
    The two girls stared at each other and Peggy realised that she had made a dangerous enemy.
    Lauren Coehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    Looking at the cake on the silver tray, Peggy remembered the beautiful cakes and confections that Auntie Nano and Lena used to make – and she longed again for the kitchen of Market Lane.
    ‘Peggy, Mrs O’Connor, look!’ Young Simon was standing at the kitchen door with a little puppy squirming in his arms. ‘He’s the best present I ever saw. Isn’t Roxanne lucky? Aunt Melissa gave him to her.’
    ‘He’s an angel. Look, Peggy, isn’t he lovely?’ joked Mrs O’Connor.
    A shiver of fear passed through Peggy the minute she saw the dog. With a burst of energy he bounced out of young Simon’s arms and began to scamper around the kitchen, exploring every nook and cranny.
    Peggy stepped back near the scullery. She tried to control the shakes that were tingling through her. Years ago, when she was only seven, a pack of dogs, wild and starving, had attacked her, and since then she had never lost her fear of dogs no matter what they were like. She just couldn’t stand them being near her. The puppy stood panting with excitement, his tail wagging and his long tongue out, staring at her, almost touching her feet.
    ‘Go away! Get lost!’ she muttered.
    ‘Bonaparte! Good dog!’ Roxanne, looking more gorgeous than ever, suddenly appeared in the kitchen. She came to a halt right in front of Peggy.
    ‘Isn’t he a beautiful dog?’ announced Roxanne.
    Peggy was so scared of the little creature, she could barely stutter, ‘He’s grand, Miss.’
    Roxanne bent down and scooped him up.
    ‘Come and pet him, then.’ The older girl stared at Peggy.
    She knows, thought Peggy – she can read my mind! Peggy tried to put out her hand and force herself to touch the shiny brown and white coat. She just couldn’t do it.
    ‘Are you scared of a little bit of a thing like Bonaparte?’ jeered Roxanne.
    Peggy felt like pulling the other girl’s curls as she looked into the smug face.
    ‘No, it’s not that, Miss, it’s just that my hands are greasy from the pots,’ she announced, inspired.
    Bored at last, Roxanne turned her attention to the others.
    Peggy stood rigid and still until both the dog and his mistress had gone back upstairs. Only then, to everyone’s surprise, did the tears seep out of her. She tried to explain her fear but nobody

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