Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years (Adrian Mole, Book 5) by Sue Townsend
By Sue Townsend
An unintentional megastar, with a spreading bald patch, despairing of present relatives values, Mole remains to be being concerned: Is Viagra dishonest? Why won't BBC1 produce "The White Van", his serial killer comedy? Will the Millennium Wheel ever flip? Will Pandora Braithwaite MP develop into Blair's favorite babe? Will Pauline Mole throw warning to the winds with a pre-millennuim fling? Will George Mole regain his erectile functionality? and may Adrian himself locate the fulfilment he seeks as superstar offal chef, unmarried guardian, and celibate novelist?
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Extra resources for Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years (Adrian Mole, Book 5)
Example text
He thought it was silver. He did not manage to get the winder to work, but when he—God willing—got back home to Somogy, his brother, a jack-of-all-trades, was bound to be able to mend it. The timepiece recorded the day and the month, as well as the year: it showed a quarter past twelve on the ninth day of the tenth month of the year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and eighty-three. In Palkó’s view it was best to stay in this deserted village until they had word of how the fighting was going; there was little sense in running into the arms of the Kurucz, who were said to take no prisoners and gave those they captured the shortest of shrifts.
Born in the heat of the fire, they loyally continued in the service of warmth: during winter they sealed it in, but let it in during summer, all the while keeping the winds without. Turning these thoughts over in his head, he did not notice that Bálint had entered the room and knelt down on the ground by the bed, his face radiant with pious concern. He, too, was aware that soon … The dying man’s eyes filled with tears. God will surely provide. The image of Grandpa Czuczor came into his mind, the person whom outwardly Bálint most closely resembled: though still growing, he was already big and strong, a veritable colossus.
Under Kornél the number and the value of the horses went up by leaps and bounds; no one had a surer eye than he when it came to weighing up a foal’s potential after proper training. On the clayey soil he grew oats and alfalfa imported from England, selling any surplus at a goodly price to the other studs. In time he took Sternovszky as his surname. It was rumored that General Onczay had betrayed the Prime Prince. Kornél would have none of it. Such a good man would certainly be incapable of such a thing.