isn't this simply great? i was telling poach and we were both reminded of quinten.

"i don't know how you're going to make out at all," said mum. "or i wouldn't if we didn't all feel the same. it's the weather"
"it's the dreadful life we lead," said susan.
"what do you mean?" said mum. "you're the dreadful life, lying about like an old stump."
"i haven't any branches," said susan. "do you think my soul's died first, and i'm going on automatic?"
"to think you used to be a sweet little girl." said mum. "i enjoyed having you."

from a parcel of trees, by william mayne.

i'm rather annoyed that just when i've discovered him (but how on earth did i miss him all this time?) most of his books appear to have been withdrawn from the libraries and shops, and his reissues and new publications cancelled. this was in response to his conviction a few years ago for sexual abuse of children, even though the books, by all accounts, were brilliant. some were editted for puffin during kaye webb's tenure; see also alison lurie's 1988 ny review of books article on his works. that's hysteria of a sort, i expect, and that sort of thing enrages me. i'd like to see them withdraw shakespeare from the curriculum when they find out he was a mass murderer, paedophile and white slaver all rolled in one or something.