The red house [electronic resource (EPUB eBook)] / Mark Haddon. The set up of Mark Haddon's brilliant new novel is simple: Richard, a wealthy doctor, invites. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time [ebook] by Mark Haddon (epub /mobi). ebook4expert. January 25 Literature & Fiction. AddThis Sharing. -->ALSO BY MARK HADDON Fiction The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night -time A Spot of Bother The Red House Poetry The Talking Horse and the Sad.
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Home · Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time Author: Haddon Mark pressing the button below! Report copyright / DMCA form · DOWNLOAD EPUB. This schools' edition of Mark Haddon's multi-award-winning novel adapted for the stage of the National Theatre by Simon Stephens is perfect for Key Stages 3. books/Gratis Boeken Downloaden The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night- time (PDF - ePub - Mobi) Van Mark lycgodoomcari.gq Find file Copy path. Fetching.
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Points will be allocated within 7 days of the shipment date. The lifeboat is scrambled. On the eastern side of the pier a farmer from Bicester is trying to prise the six-year-old boy from between his parents. The boy can surely see that they are dead. Half his father's head is missing.
Or perhaps he can't see this. He won't let go of them and his grip is so tight that the man is afraid he will break the boy's arm if he pulls any harder.
He asks the boy what his name is but the boy won't answer. The boy is in some private hell which he will never entirely leave. The farmer has no choice but to turn and swim, towing the three of them ashore.
Only when he tries to stand will he realise that his ankle is broken. The tattooed man comes running down the pier clasping the cocker spaniel to his chest and when he runs through the gate onto the promenade the two of them are greeted by cheers and whoops from a crowd eager to celebrate some small good thing.
Eight minutes. Fifty-nine dead. The helicopter appears in the sun-glare from the west. Everyone on the promenade hears the growing pulse of the rotors and turns to watch. None of the eleven people running onto the pier find their missing relatives among the injured and unconscious so they stand near the ragged chasm and shout to the people on the other side.
Have they seen an old lady in a green windcheater? A little girl with long red hair? But the people on the far side are not interested in the lady in the windcheater and the girl with red hair because they are missing relatives of their own and they are terrified that the rest of the pier will collapse and the only thing they want to know is when they are going to be rescued.
Two ambulances reach the seafront but the traffic is jammed so tight that the crews have to run carrying stretchers and emergency bags. Five stay with the injured on the front, three continue onto the pier itself. Three policemen are trying to push the spectators back, some of whom resent being evicted from ringside seats. Nobody realises how many people have died. Everyone is thinking how they will tell the story to friends and family and workmates.
On the pier a woman is slid sideways onto a spinal board. An elderly man with a broken collarbone is given morphine. Fourteen minutes. Sixty dead. On the promenade people are wondering if it was an IRA bomb. No one wants to believe that time and weather can be this dangerous, and it is exciting to think of oneself as a potential target.
As the helicopter hovers over the end of the pier the people below fight to be the first to grab the winchman as he descends, but the downdraught batters them away from its epicentre and he alights in a circle of empty decking. He scoops a little girl from her mother's arms and the sight of her being clipped into a harness shames them. As she is hoisted aloft they start gathering the other children, lining them up in order of age ready for the next lift.
The swimmers come ashore-the sisters, the confused man, the struggling woman, their three rescuers. People rush forward with towels.
It looks like a competition to see whose will be chosen. The struggling woman drops to her knees and digs her hands into the sand as if nothing and no one is going to separate her from solid ground ever again. The body of the old woman who had a heart attack is carried through the service gate under a white sheet into a sudden hush. There are still people on the front who think she is the only person who has died.
The farmer towing the little boy and his dead parents hauls them into the shallows and feels one end of his broken fibula grinding against the other.
It should hurt but he can feel no pain. He needs very badly to lie down. He rolls over into the water and looks at the clouds. People rush into the surf, then see his cargo and come to a halt. A young woman steps between them, a nurse from Southampton where she works in the accident and emergency department. She has seen much worse. She is the only black person on the entire beach. She puts her hands flat on the boy's shoulders and some of those watching wonder if she is using voodoo, but it is the steadiness of her voice which enables him to let go of his parents' bodies and turn and be held by someone who is not frightened.
The colour of her skin helps too, the fact that she is so different from all these other people among whom he no longer belongs. Her name is Renee.
They will stay in touch with one another for the next thirty years. The fourth child is lifted into the helicopter, then the fifth. The arcade manager emerges from his tiny office. He realises that if he is the last person winched to safety he will be able to say, "I stayed at my post. Twenty-five minutes.
The lifeboat arrives and the crew begin hauling people from the water. Some cannot stop talking. Some slither into the bottom of the boat like netted fish, sodden, glassy-eyed, oblivious. A boy of thirteen floats in a dark recess between two fallen girders. He refuses to come out and will not respond to their calls.
A crew member jumps into the water but the boy retreats into the flooded forest of wreckage and they are forced to abandon him. The winch is stowed and the helicopter swings away with all the children on board. Many of them have left parents on the pier. Several don't know if their parents are alive.
For all of them the hammering roar is a comfort, filling their heads so completely that they are unable to entertain the terrifying thoughts that will return only when they are helped down onto the tarmac and run through the wind from the rotors towards the women from the St. Looking for instructions on how to set up and download ebooks?
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