Excerpt from This Human Season by Louise Dean, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Upstairs, her brother, Liam, was taking two empty jam jars out from under his bed. ‘You’ve to go in one, and I’ll go in the other,’ he told his sister.

‘I can fill them both,’ said the girl, ‘I’m bursting now.’

‘Just do the one.’

She went off towards the bathroom. Then she was back. ‘What’s it for, Liam?’

‘For when the Brits come along by the side window, down the alleyway,’ he said, pushing the cardboard box back under his bed.

Hearing her daughter fumbling with the bathroom lock the mother called up the stairs. ‘For God’s sake. No one’s coming in to watch you peeing, Aine. We’ve got a television.’

The father was standing near the kitchen with his hands out, dripping water, shaking them just a little, waiting for his wife to show him the dishcloth.

Kathleen was bent in front of the television, tending to it. In her thin nightdress, her body was long, spare curves. The drone of the TV made a sudden acceleration, jumping from hum to chatter. The picture filled the screen; the outside world sprang.

Copyright © Louise Dean, 2005

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.