Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)
Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK) Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)
Raisins and Almonds Australia’s Jews: a people who treasured learning, and who never forgot their past or relinquished hold of their future. Saul accepted the boiled lolly he was given with royal condescension. Learning, to him, was sweet. Mrs. Grossman sat down and without preamble began to sing, a quavering lullaby in a strange tongue, and Simon whispered the translation to Phryne as she listened. ‘In dem bishe micdosh… Beneath my little one’s cradle Stands a clear white goat… There will come a time, my child When you will wander far and wide. Remember the song I sing today… Schluf-sie, mein kind, schluf,’ she concluded. Then she sighed, seized her son Phillip and hugged him hard, and summoned a smile. ‘You will give my greetings to your father,’ she said to Simon. Phryne shook hands all round, and Mrs. Grossman accompanied them to the door. As she was leaving, the older woman pressed a packet into her hand. ‘Just a little tea,’ she protested. ‘A few biscuits. Nothing.’ Phryne was touched. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and went out into the dusty street feeling warmed and a little dislocated, as though she had been away in another country and had come back with unexpected swiftness to somewhere which ought to have been familiar but which looked odd and alien. ‘That’s a nice song,’ she said, wrestling her coat over her shoulders. Simon caught the edges and bodily wrapped it around Phryne. ‘It’s the one lullaby which everyone knows,’ he said. ‘There isn’t a Yiddish child in the world who wasn’t sung to sleep with Raisins and Almonds. My own mother sang it to me. Now, Madame,’ he bowed, ‘are you coming to my father’s house to dine?’ ‘Yes, I am.’ ‘Then perhaps you could drop me in the city, where I can get a taxi, so that I can prepare myself fittingly.’
0 Kerry Greenwood ‘Certainly. Is this white tie—what should I wear?’ ‘Just ordinary evening clothes. Mother likes to dress. I don’t think Father could care, but he’s a merchant at heart, bless him.’ ‘Thank you, and what do you make of Yossi racing off like that?’ ‘I don’t know what to think, Phryne.’ They had found the big car again, and Phryne tore off the offending coat and flung it into the back before she climbed into the driver’s seat. It was such a hot day and the car had not been parked long so she tried the self-starter, and it worked. The engine turned over with a muted roar like an annoyed tiger. Simon, realizing that he was not going to be needed as a wielder of starting handles, climbed up into the seat next to Phryne. ‘Is he usually that jumpy?’ ‘Well, no, I would have said that he was calm, like Saul. A lot of study does tend to disconnect one from the real world.’ ‘He must know something, Simon; you need to find him again and extract it. Was there anything odd about the words Saul used?’ ‘No, it’s just the word for primeval, “of earth”. Kadmon. Adam as the first man. I never studied the Kabala, so I really can’t tell you any more. Are you going to collect that truck?’ ‘No,’ said Phryne, giving the wheel a deft twiddle. The truck passed, the driver yelling opprobrious epithets. It would not have been fitting for a lady to reply, so she only raised a finger or two in the appropriate gesture. ‘One thing I will say, Miss Fisher,’ yelled Simon Abrahams, holding onto his hat as the Hispano-Suiza belted down Swanston Street past the brewery in a cloud of dust. ‘Life with you is always very interesting!’ ‘Thank you,’ said Miss Fisher. ‘Here’s the station. See you at eight.’ And because she was both hot and dirty, Phryne beguiled the rest of the afternoon by taking her maid, her adopted daughters and their pestilential new puppy to the beach, where she contemplated the difficulties of the Kabala from one of her favourite thinking positions, neck deep in sea water.
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- Page 47 and 48: 8 Kerry Greenwood Jew hands, organs
- Page 49 and 50: 40 Kerry Greenwood Ember walked int
- Page 51 and 52: 4 Kerry Greenwood ‘For spring,’
- Page 53 and 54: 44 Kerry Greenwood ‘The Bulletin
- Page 55 and 56: 4 Kerry Greenwood ‘Well, gentle l
- Page 57 and 58: Chapter Five Rubedo is the ascensio
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- Page 73 and 74: 4 Kerry Greenwood ‘It is,’ said
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- Page 105 and 106: Kerry Greenwood pathologist paid no
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- Page 111 and 112: Chapter Nine Air: this is no Elemen
- Page 113 and 114: 104 Kerry Greenwood ‘You don’t
- Page 115 and 116: 10 Kerry Greenwood which allowed it
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0 Kerry Greenwood<br />
‘Certainly. Is this white tie—what should I wear?’<br />
‘Just ordinary evening clothes. Mother likes to dress. I don’t think<br />
Father could care, but he’s a merchant at heart, bless him.’<br />
‘Thank you, <strong>and</strong> what do you make of Yossi racing off like that?’<br />
‘I don’t know what to think, Phryne.’<br />
They had found the big car again, <strong>and</strong> Phryne tore off the<br />
offending coat <strong>and</strong> flung it into the back before she climbed<br />
into the driver’s seat. It was such a hot day <strong>and</strong> the car had not<br />
been parked long so she tried the self-starter, <strong>and</strong> it worked.<br />
The engine turned over with a muted roar like an annoyed tiger.<br />
Simon, realizing that he was not going to be needed as a wielder<br />
of starting h<strong>and</strong>les, climbed up into the seat next to Phryne.<br />
‘Is he usually that jumpy?’<br />
‘Well, no, I would have said that he was calm, like Saul. A lot<br />
of study does tend to disconnect one from the real world.’<br />
‘He must know something, Simon; you need to find him<br />
again <strong>and</strong> extract it. Was there anything odd about the words<br />
Saul used?’<br />
‘No, it’s just the word for primeval, “of earth”. Kadmon. Adam<br />
as the first man. I never studied the Kabala, so I really can’t tell<br />
you any more. Are you going to collect that truck?’<br />
‘No,’ said Phryne, giving the wheel a deft twiddle. The truck<br />
passed, the driver yelling opprobrious epithets. It would not have<br />
been fitting for a lady to reply, so she only raised a finger or two<br />
in the appropriate gesture.<br />
‘One thing I will say, Miss Fisher,’ yelled Simon Abrahams,<br />
holding onto his hat as the Hispano-Suiza belted down Swanston<br />
Street past the brewery in a cloud of dust. ‘Life with you is always<br />
very interesting!’<br />
‘Thank you,’ said Miss Fisher. ‘Here’s the station. See you<br />
at eight.’<br />
And because she was both hot <strong>and</strong> dirty, Phryne beguiled the<br />
rest of the afternoon by taking her maid, her adopted daughters<br />
<strong>and</strong> their pestilential new puppy to the beach, where she contemplated<br />
the difficulties of the Kabala from one of her favourite<br />
thinking positions, neck deep in sea water.
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