دانلود رمان انگلیسی “بال‌ها بر فراز والتا”

‘How many bombers do the Italians have?’ Michael Fortini grinned from under his shock of dark hair, tomato from lunch still on his top lip. Kitty turned from writing Chapter Three on the blackboard, chalk poised in her hand. Dust floated in the sunlight streaming through the tall classroom windows, an unusually warm day for January. She bit her lip trying to stop herself laughing. Heavens, he must be the cheekiest elevenyear- old in the whole of Valletta, God love him, but the fact she didn’t want to stop his endless questions – it had been ‘When will Malta get Spitfires?’ two minutes ago, as if she knew – showed just how much she wasn’t cut out for teaching. Especially Dickens. She couldn’t believe she was still here, really, four years on. After all, joining the Britannia School had been yet another of Father’s bloody ideas to ‘cheer her up’, after they arrived on the island. Michael threw a paper plane, RAF roundels neatly drawn on the wings, across the room and tilted back, so his gas mask fell off the chair and thumped to the ground. The children giggled. ‘Għoxrin miljun,’ called out Giuseppe. ‘English, please.’ Kitty smiled at the little boy crammed into a sweater that was far too small for him. ‘Twenty million.’ He grinned round at the children. ‘At least that’s how many shillings Michael would pay for a ħobza biż-żejt.’ They all laughed. Everyone knew how Michael loved his tomato panne. Kitty smiled. Let them laugh. After all, outside these walls there was so much to cry about, what with the island besieged and the Italians bombing them. At least Father’s jewel of the fleet, HMS Illustrious, had made it to safety. The whole of Valletta had gone down to Grand Harbour to cheer as tugs pulled the listing, damaged aircraft carrier in. One day of joy at least.