"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
The wise and gloriously big-hearted debut novel from the much-loved broadcaster, Sara Cox Becky: a single mum who prides herself on her independence. She knows from painful experience that men are trouble. Louise: a loving husband, gorgeous kids. She ought to feel more grateful. Jameela: all she''s ever done is work hard, and try her best. Why won''t life give her the one thing she really wants? Sheila: the nest is empty, she dreams of escaping to the sun, but her husband seems so distracted. The inhabitants of the Inventor''s Housing Estate keep themselves to themselves. There are the friendly ''Hellos'' when commutes coincide and the odd cheeky eye roll when the wine bottles clank in number 7''s wheelie bin, but it''s not exactly Ramsay Street. The dilapidated community centre is no longer the beating heart of the estate that Becky remembers from her childhood. So the new pottery class she''s helped set up feels like a fresh start. And not just for her. The assorted neighbours come together to try out a new skill, under the watchful eye of their charismatic teacher, Sasha. And as the soft unremarkable lumps of clay are hesitantly, lovingly moulded into delicate vases and majestic pots, so too are the lives of four women. Concealed passions and heartaches are uncovered, relationships shattered and formed, and the possibility for transformation is revealed.
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"On n'est pas dans le futurisme, mais dans un drame bourgeois ou un thriller atmosphérique"
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