Sweet Sorrow(123)



She yawned and felt her scalp. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nine forty-five.’

‘Wild man. Where is she then?’

‘She’s waiting in the car downstairs.’

‘Is that right?’

‘I just came up to throw a few things in a bag.’

‘Our car.’

‘Yes, we’re taking the car.’

‘Seems harsh. Can I keep the TV?’

‘Won’t it remind you of me?’

‘Not especially. Who’s going to call the caterers?’

‘Leave it ’til tomorrow.’ I kissed her. ‘Can I sit down?’ Niamh shifted, and we sat with our heads resting against each other.

‘It’s great that we can laugh about these things, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘The thing is, Niamh, you can laugh about these things.’

‘Can I?’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘Good.’

‘Let’s go to bed.’

We didn’t move. ‘But how was she?’

‘Older.’

‘There’s surprising.’

‘She was nice. Everyone was. She was happy.’

‘You too?’

‘And me too.’

‘Well, there you go,’ she said. ‘That’s all you can hope for, isn’t it? That’s what you want. And now you know.’

And now I know.

Sign up to David Nicholls’ newsletter here





Acknowledgements


Thanks are owed to my early readers, Damian Barr, Hannah MacDonald, Roanna Benn and Michael McCoy, for their support, encouragement and good judgement. I am endlessly grateful to Jonny Geller, Kate Cooper, Catherine Cho and all the team at Curtis Brown.

At Hodder and Stoughton, Nick Sayers continues to be the best possible editor, and I’d also like to thank Amber Burlinson, Cicely Aspinall, Lucy Hale, Carolyn Mays, Jamie Hodder-Williams, Alasdair Oliver, Susan Spratt, Jacqui Lewis, Alice Morley and that four-time veteran of author neuroses, Emma Knight.

Finally, I would like to thank Bruno Wang for his generosity, Emmanuel Kwesi Quayson, Karen Fishwick – a brilliant Juliet – for her insights and Ayse Tashkiran for putting us in touch. I’d also like to acknowledge a debt, in mood and tone, to the Pulp song, David’s Last Summer.

Finally, as always, love and gratitude are due to Hannah Weaver for her humour, patience and support.

David Nicholls's Books