An absolute mastery of few words that can haunt a reader!

The air just after it’s rained. The first and last squares of a bar of chocolate, which always taste the best. The aroma of freesias. David Bowie’s Low album. A curry sausage after a long night out. A long night out. The hum of a fat bumblebee. Everything the sun does, whether it’s rising, setting or just shining. A blue sky. A black sky. Any old sky. The way my mother rolls her eyes when she has a spontaneous visitor and the washing-up hasn’t been done. The old Hollywood swing in my grandparents’ garden, the way it squeaks and sounds as if it’s singing a weird song when you swing back and forth on it. Those silly tablecloth weights that look like strawberries and lemons. The summer wind on the face and in the hair. The sea, the sound of it roaring. Fine white sand between the toes .

‘Sometimes two people cross paths in a most unfortunate way and all you can do is accept this and somehow carry on.’