دانلود رمان انگلیسی “دخترم رفته است”

Freya Lomax saw the car the second she stepped out through the school gates. It was parked a little way down the street, one of those flashy, expensive-looking ones with polished surfaces and blacked-out windows. In fact, it had black everything. The windows, the paintwork, the tyres. Freya had little interest in cars, so she had no idea of the make or model, only that it exuded a certain amount of gravitas, sitting there on a quiet, leafy street in South London. Gravitas. She liked that word. She’d only learnt it recently but now endeavoured (another good word) to use it whenever she got a chance. But it was also very apt for this particular car. It was the kind of vehicle you might see a pop star or a politician being driven around in. She looked around, wondering if it belonged to one of her classmate’s parents. But she didn’t think so. It seemed too big, too imposing. Most of the parents who sent their girls to St Bernadette’s High were of the uppermiddle- class variety. They wouldn’t have blacked-out windows. Because Freya also knew that, along with VIPs, this was also the sort of car drug dealers might drive. Or gangsters. “Come on, Mum. Where are you?” She held a hand over her eyes, squinting through the late afternoon sun at the car, still sitting stationary and silent like a sleeping beast. Those dark windows were so impenetrable, especially from this distance, that there could have been twenty acting agents sat in the back and she wouldn’t have known. The thought tickled Freya’s imagination. Acting agents. Whatever she was doing, whoever she was with, wherever she was, her thoughts always seemed to come back to the same thing. And then the disappointment was felt all over again.