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Rose Nicolson Part 2: A student sets sail for university and St Andrew s

Rose Nicolson Part 2: A student sets sail for university and St Andrew s In the second of five installments from Andrew Greig’s new historical novel Rose Nicolson, William Fowler of Anchor Close departs Edinburgh. Monday, 26th July 2021, 4:55 am Andrew Greig s book, In Another Light wins the 2004 Saltire Society/Faculty of Advocates Scottish Book of the Year Chapter 1: A Student Departs I hear and feel it yet under my scrieving hand, the scrape and shudder of our door as I forced it open into the Embra dawn. I stood a long minute neither fully in nor fully out – a lifelong position with me, I suppose. The wind through the Castle Gait rugged at my cloak. It would be a rough passage.

Rose Nicolson Part 1: Death of a father | The Southern Reporter

Andrew Greig Prologue: The Doo-Cot We had become near-accustomed to the farting thud of small cannon, the prattle of musketry, the yelled orders and clashed steel, all swirling about our city’s tenements. Then followed the clatter as a sortie of Queen’s Men from the Castle swept through the barricades, down the High Street to confront the King’s Men. Rose Nicolson by Andrew Greig At the first explosions, my father would sigh, go down the winding stair to bar the entrance to our close, then latch-key our nail-studded door. He would return to our refuge, solemnly count our heads, place the key on his work table, then go back to writing inventories and bills of sale.

Rose Nicolson Part 1: Death of a father | Midlothian Advertiser

Andrew Greig Prologue: The Doo-Cot We had become near-accustomed to the farting thud of small cannon, the prattle of musketry, the yelled orders and clashed steel, all swirling about our city’s tenements. Then followed the clatter as a sortie of Queen’s Men from the Castle swept through the barricades, down the High Street to confront the King’s Men. Rose Nicolson by Andrew Greig At the first explosions, my father would sigh, go down the winding stair to bar the entrance to our close, then latch-key our nail-studded door. He would return to our refuge, solemnly count our heads, place the key on his work table, then go back to writing inventories and bills of sale.

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