I need help this week in the vocabulary department.  I’m not saying that the great Chris Cleave incorrectly used a word, but I don’t understand how he used it.  See what you think.

In Cleave’s novel, Little Bee, everything spins around an unusual meeting on an African beach between two young African girls, an armed guard, a British couple on holiday, and a band of hired killers.  Doesn’t sound good, does it?

Here’s the piece I’m struggling with, told by Sarah, a British woman and one of the primary narrators of the novel.  She is describing her very dangerous confrontation with a man holding a machete:

I cringed away from the man, from the way he looked at me- now patiently, as if encouraging a slow learner; now furiously; now with a pregnant, vespertine calm.

At this point, what do you think “vespertine” means?  Guess, if you must.

Here is the info from Webster’s:

My end of summer read has been Little Bee by Chris Cleave, which, thankfully, moves much faster than Great Expectations.  Indeed, it contains tragic violence, profound commentary on Western civilization, and plenty of words to stretch my vocabulary.

During a scene in the book, Sarah, one of the narrators, fixes herself a gin and tonic.  (She’s just heard a horrific story, and she needs that G &T.)  Unfortunately, she doesn’t have any real lemons to use, so makes do with a “little squirt of plasticky juice from the Jif lemon in the fridge.”  Later she says,

I finished my G & T and winced at the taste of the ersatz lemon.

Any word with a “z” in it provokes my interest, and although I could guess its meaning, I wanted to know its origin.

The ersatz flavor of a “Skinny Cow” ice cream sandwich does not satisfy my husband’s craving for a sweet indulgence after dinner.