“Oh God, I'm miss­ing the gene which makes you grow up and buy a flat in Streatham and start visiting Homebase every weekend. Everyone's moving on without me, into a world I don't understand.”

“Everyone's moving on without me, into a world I don't understand.”

“It really is the year 2007. Which means I must be...Oh my God. I'm twenty-eight.I'm old.”

“Except...I do. Of course I do. Because as his hands gently cup my waist, I don't make a sound. As he swivels me around to face him, I don't make a sound. I don't need to. We're still talking. Every touch he makes, every imprint of his skin is like another word, another thought, a continuation of our conversation. And we're not done yet. Not yet.”

“A cold dismay creeps over me. Oh okay, maybe I did once kind of pretend I had a stalker. Which I shouldn't have done. But I mean, just because you invent one tiny stalker - that doesn't make you a complete nut case, does it?”

“You won’t let me buy any clothes. Now you won’t let me buy a road map, either!I need to spend some money or I’m going to go crazy!”

“So I buy it. The most perfect little cardigan in the world. People will call me the Girl in the Gray Cardigan. I’ll be able to live in it. Really, it’s an investment.”