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       Copyright

      The Borough Press

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in 2015 by Liberties Press

      Copyright © Caitriona Lally 2015

      Cover design by Holly Macdonald © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

      Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com

      Book design by Fritz Metsch

      Illustrations by Karen Vaughan

      Caitriona Lally asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Source ISBN: 9780008324407

      Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2018 ISBN: 9780008324414

      Version: 2018-09-25

       Praise for Eggshells:

      ‘Inventive, funny and, ultimately, moving’

       Guardian

      ‘Full of action and humour as its beguiling narrator takes her surreal jaunts around the capital in search of a portal to another world … The black comedy gives the book a jaunty quality that complements the dazzling trip around Dublin’

       The Irish Times

      ‘Delightfully quirky … Vivian’s voice alone is enough to keep us reading, charmed by her unique brand of manic, word-hoarding wit’

       Irish Independent

      ‘The book’s style calls to mind The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. Engaging and humorous’

       The Dublin Inquirer

      ‘This urban fairy tale delivers something that is both subtle and profound in its examination of the human soul. Magically delicious’

       Kirkus

      ‘Highly original, Lally has a unique voice as a writer’

       Sunday Independent

      ‘A whimsical jaunt through Dublin and a modern take on many old Irish folktakes … Humorous, charming, and original’

       Booklist

      ‘Eggshells expresses a Joycean sense of the ordinary. A brilliantly realised first-person narrative … a memorable debut’

       Totally Dublin

      ‘Caitriona Lally has created a character of almost maddening originality’

       Wales Arts Review

      ‘A highly impressive debut … a touching account of difference, showing how life must feel for somebody who cannot conform’

       Books Ireland

       Epigraph

      Sometimes the fairies fancy mortals, and carry them away into their own country, leaving instead some sickly fairy child … Most commonly they steal children. If you “over look a child,” that is look on it with envy, the fairies have it in their power. Many things can be done to find out if a child’s a changeling, but there is one infallible thing—lay it on the fire … Then if it be a changeling it will rush up the chimney with a cry …

      —W. B. YEATS

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Praise for Eggshells

      Epigraph

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

       1

      

      WHEN I RETURN to my great-aunt’s house with her ashes, the air feels uncertain, as if it doesn’t know how to deal with me. My great-aunt died three weeks ago, but there is still a faint waft of her in every room—of lavender cologne mixed with soiled underthings. I close the front door and look around the house with fresh eyes, the eyes of a new owner. My great-aunt kept chairs the way some people keep cats. There are chairs in every room, in the hall, on the wide step at the bottom of the stairs and on the landing. The four chairs on the landing are lined up like chairs in a waiting

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