“I shrug him off. 'Can't you just go away?"There's a moment. It has a sound in it, as if something very small got broken.”

“I like you," he said.He made it sound as if she was bound to disagree with him. She nodded. His face said he was telling her something very important.He said, "I mean it. Whatever happens, you have to believe that.”

“There's a gang of boys on bikes blocking the road ahead. They've got their hoods up, cigarettes shielded. The sky's a really strange colour and there's hardly anyone else about. I slow right down."What shall I do?""Reverse," Zoey says. "They're not going to move."I wind down the window. "Oi!" I yell "Move your arses!"They turn languid, shift lazily to the edge of the road and grin as I blow kisses at them.Zoey looks stunned, "What's got into you?""Nothing- I just haven't learned reversing yet.”

“I feel something very small growing inside me as I look at her, and I realize in one absolutely clear moment that I don't like her at all.'You know what?' I say. 'Forget it. I'll do the list by myself.'She stands up, swings her stupid hair about and tries to look offended. It's a trick that works with guys, but it makes no difference to the way I feel about her.”

“There's a terrible stillness. I notice a small tear in the wallpaper above her shoulder. I notice finger marks grimed on the light switch. Somewhere down in the house, a door opens and shuts. As Zoey turns to face me, I realize that life is made up of a series of moments, each one a journey to the end.”

“Hey, listen,' I say. " Fascinating as this is, we've got to go now. I have to collect the invites for my funeral."That shuts them up. Fiona looks astonished." Really? " Yeah." I grab Zoey's arm. "It's a shame i can't be there myself - i like parties. Text me if you think of any good hymns!”

“Afterwards, go to a pub for lunch. I've got $260 in my savings account and I really want you to use it for that. Really, I mean it--lunch is on me. Make sure you have pudding--sticky toffee, chocolate fudge cake, ice-cream sundae, something really bad for you. Get drunk too if you like (but don't scare Cal). Spend all the money.And after that, when days have gone by, keep an eye out for me. I might write on the steam in the mirror when you're having a bath, or play with the leaves on the apple tree when you're out in the garden. I might slip into a dream.Visit my grave when you can, but don't kick yourself if you can't, or if you move house and it's suddenly too far away. It looks pretty there in the summer (check out the website). You could bring a picnic and sit with me. I'd like that.”