You've never told me about your love life, Scarlett. You're a very pretty girl. You must have a boy shacked up somewhere for your personal delights. I'd bet it's a booky one, overtones of Harry Potter and a lot of black T-shirts.

Tired, but not the kind of tired that sleep fixes.

Just then, my phone started ringing. The ring must have been damaged by the water as well, so now it had a high, keening note - kind of the sound I imagine a mermaid might make if you punched her in the face.

New start or not, there was a line to be drawn, and that line was singing musicals to yourself as serious psychological motivation.

Although it was very cold, he wore no coat. I think some English people think coats are for the weak.

I had always assumed the weekend was a holy tradition, respected by good people everywhere. Not so at Wexford.

The kids I talk to are readers, and the craziest, the most dedicated readers you will ever see.