The Various Flavours Of Coffee

Molly Allen, fearless as ever.

They knew that the real prize was to get me to pay for love.

In the end, it is the stories we tell ourselves which are the dangerous ones, the ones that kill us or save us

he was more relaxed when he was in motion, as if the furious headlong impetus of the train somehow soothed his own restless need for activity.

‘You may pass that one around,’ she said, unrolling another. ‘I have more, if anyone would like one.’

he was a type of man for whom love was indistinguishable from his own interests.

Brewer was a politician: he had known the best way to make his appeal to me.

They talked of rousing all London, but never seemed to have enough postage stamps.

‘I am no longer seeking your agreement. I am overruling you. This is my decision, and as your husband I expect you to abide by