A Thousand for Sicily by Geoffrey Trease

Seventy years after it was published, No Boats on Bannermere now gives an agreeably distant feeling of post-war Britain, complete with rationing, housing restrictions, and other - now fascinating - details of life in that era. ‘But suppose the new Kingdom of Italy takes a hand? Suppose the Turin government decides to help the rebelsas a move against Naples? If Garibaldi goes to Sicily, we may see a miracle.Trease has also learned that readers can be interested just as easily by the everyday details of life in a North Country cottage as by buried treasure or ancient skeletons. If the wretched Sicilians have to fight alone, this revolution will fizzle out’ ‘Because the key to this problem lies there in the North.

‘I need only go as far as Turin to start with.’ ‘Long journeyrailway-tickets, steamers, hotels, days of it! Shocking waste of time and money!’ A girl cried fresh violets in a high-pitched Cockney whine.

Beyond the dusty window murmured Fleet Street. ‘I’ll choose me own wordsdon’t presume to edit me!’ O’Malley refilled his glass. ‘Ye’re a promising young journalistbut ye’re an obstinate donkey too.’ ‘Ye’re not employed to speak Italian, but to write English. I speak Italian, I was there as a boy in 1849’ I begged you to send me on the northern Italian campaign last summer. ‘It’s hardly my fault I’ve no experience, sir. And if I did, I’d not send an inexperienced young fellow like’ Apperley, I will not gamble me proprietor’s money on a long chance like this. The newspaper which looks ahead and sends out a correspondent now’ ‘D’ye suppose the editor doesn’t see the telegrams? These hot countries are always having revolutions!’ All the usual signs of composition were therethe glass of port, the half-empty decanter beside the ink-stand, the first scrawled sheets tossed to the floor for the office boy to gather.

But I wish he weren’t fighting me, thought Mark, and I wish I hadn’t interrupted him in the middle of tomorrow’s leader. As he was fond of saying, he fought best on his feet. The burly editor of the Morning Herald was an awesome figure as he stood at his his desk. Young Mark Apperley’s own knees trembled a little. Red side whiskers twitched against purpling cheeks. Mr O’Malley’s voice already shook with passion. ‘In another minute, me boy, I’ll lose me temper!’ Chapter One A P I S T O L F O R A G E N T L E M A N

A Thousand for Sicily by Geoffrey Trease