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“Jonathan's apologies are works of art; they are three-act plays. He apologized, and I accepted that apology, therefore it must be over and done with. Except that I still feel the ring of those words. I still feel the weight of the abrupt realization of where I stand in the pecking order of Jonathan's life, the realization that if this, my mother's sudden death, is not significant enough, then there is nothing I can ever do to move up the order.”

“Perhaps these nights in Edinburgh will become more frequent, and I'll be spending evenings alone more often than not. It's an unsettling thought. The Manse is different with Carrie in it. It keeps time better, it hides its other faces, the bathroom door stays closed and the boiler flame doesn't snuff out. It behaves like the mere pile of bricks it ought to be. God, I will have to cook. I head to the fridge and eye up the contents despairingly. It's by no means bare, but everything in it requires effort: chopping or prepping or frying or grilling or possibly all of those; Carrie would know. But the fridge door has been open too long; it begins a low accusatory beeping. I close it and consider my options. Fuck it. I can buy a microwave meal at the village shop.”

“HOW TO KILL YOUR BEST FRIEND Method 4: Electrocution Hair dryer dropped in a bath tub? I suppose it's just about believable and I could probably engineer such a situation. But I Googled it (not on my own device, of course), and it seems that it's actually very unlikely to be fatal. Electricity is lazy; it seeks the path of least resistance. The current will almost certainly run to ground through the bathwater and the bath plug, rather than through the cardiac tissue, meaning that the only thing that gets successfully fried is the bath salts. How else can you engender a fatal electrocution? With difficulty, according to the Google search results. There are too many variables. AC or DC current. Wet or dry hands. The material of the shoes the person is wearing. Whether the current finds a way to breach the skin to reach the soft, vulnerable, unresistant tissues inside-and how much water and how much fat are in those tissues. The more I look at this, the more I realize how exceedingly difficult it is to kill a person-without immediately getting caught, I mean. Which is, ordinarily, a good thing, one supposes. Though not much help to me now.”

“Writing a second book is not like writing the first. I don't mean that every book is different, though of course there's an element of that. The crucial difference is that when you write your first book, you don't have a publisher, which means you don't have a deadline. Deadlines-well. Deadlines put a whole new spin on this writing lark.”

“Now that I'm directing my attention straight at her, it's hard not to look at her crotch, given her cross- legged position. Her black bikini briefs are perfectly in place, without a hair, or even a follicle, to be seen. I wonder if she waxes everywhere? Or if she's had electrolysis? I've heard that's the norm for singletons in the US-the Tinder generation. A doctor friend told me that even in the UK, everybody he sees under the age of thirty is entirely de- void of pubic hair these days.”

“His resentment toward me has gone, at least, although I'm not sure what he's replaced it with. His jaw is tight as he looks across at me with those strange eyes. "She was just scaring him, right? She wouldn't actually have cut it off?" I almost laugh. That he could have married her married her! and be so oblivious. Are all marriages like this? Is it in fact a neces sary attribute in order for a marriage to survive: some kind of willing suspension of critical thought, so that the person you see before you is the person you WANT to see?”