1988–1992
Early Twenties
‘That was a memorable day to me, for it made great
changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one
selected day struck out of it and think how different its
course would have been. Pause, you who read this, and
think for a long moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of
thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for
the formation of the first link on that memorable day.’
Charles Dickens, Great ExpectationsFRIDAY15 JULY1988
Rankeillor Street, Edinburgh
‘I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of
difference,’ she said. ‘You know, actually change
something.’
‘What, like “change the world”, you mean?’
‘Not the whole entire world. Just the little bit around
you.’
They lay in silence for a moment, bodies curled around
each other in the single bed, then both began to laugh in
low, predawn voices. ‘Can’t believe I just said that,’ she
groaned. ‘Sounds a bit corny, doesn’t it?’
‘A bit corny.’
‘I’m trying to be inspiring! I’m trying to lift your grubby
soul for the great adventure that lies ahead of you.’ She
turned to face him. ‘Not that you need it. I expect you’ve got
your future nicely mapped out, ta very much. Probably got a
little flow-chart somewhere or something.’
‘Hardly.’
‘So what’re you going to do then? What’s the great
plan?’
‘Well, my parents are going to pick up my stuff, dump it
at theirs, then I’ll spend a couple of days in their flat in
London, see some friends. Then France—’
‘Very nice—Then China maybe, see what that’s all about, then
maybe onto India, travel around there for a bit—’
‘Travelling,’ she sighed. ‘So predictable.’
‘What’s wrong with travelling?’
‘Avoiding reality more like.’
‘I think reality is over-rated,’ he said in the hope that
this might come across as dark and charismatic.
She sniffed. ‘S’alright, I suppose, for those who can
afford it. Why not just say “I’m going on holiday for two
years”? It’s the same thing.’
‘Because travel broadens the mind,’ he said, rising
onto one elbow and kissing her.
‘Oh I think you’re probably a bit too broad-minded as it
is,’ she said, turning her face away, for the moment at least.
They settled again on the pillow. ‘Anyway, I didn’t mean
what are you doing next month, I meant the future-future,
when you’re, I don’t know. .’ She paused, as if conjuring up
some fantastical idea, like a fifth dimension. ‘. . Forty or
something. What do you want to be when you’re forty?’
‘Forty?’ He too seemed to be struggling with the
concept. ‘Don’t know. Am I allowed to say “rich”?’
‘Just so, so shallow.’
‘Alright then, “famous”.’ He began to nuzzle at her
neck. ‘Bit morbid, this, isn’t it?’
‘It’s not morbid, it’s. . exciting.’