“I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right.”

“In eight years not a day has gone by when she hasn’t thought of him. She misses him and she wants him back. I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right.”

“…and you smile back and try not to think about the fact that you have nothing, absolutely nothing, to say to each other.”

“And then she frowned, and shook her head, then put her arms around him once more, pressing her face into his shoulder, making a noise that sounded almost like rage.'What's up?' he asked.'Nothing. Oh, nothing. Just...' She looked up at him. 'I thought I'd finally got rid of you.''I don't think you can.' he said”

“Do you miss her?''Who? Emma? Of course. Every day. She was my best friend.”

“She shouldn't speak her thoughts; nothing good ever came of speaking your thoughts.”

“Sylvie's sort of pregnant. Well not sort of. She is. Pregnant. Actually pregnant with a baby.''Oh Dexter! Do you know the father? I'm kidding! Congratulations, Dex. God, aren't you meant to space your bombshells out a bit. Not just drop them all at once?'She held his face in both hands, looked at it.'You're getting married?-''Yes'-'And you're going to be a father?''I know! Fuck me a father!''Is that allowed? I mean will they let you?''Apparently''I think it's wonderful. Fucking hell, Dexter, I turn my back for one minute...!'She hugged him once again her arms high round his neck. She felt drunk, full of affection and a certain sadness too, as if something was coming to an end. She wanted to say something along these lines, but thought it best to do this through a joke.'Of course you've destroyed any chance I had of future happiness, but I'm delighted for you, really.”