She will canonise her former loneliness with a tang of self-pity, pretend to revel in the re-established silence, the remote control and sofa to herself. Before him, she had often wondered whether solitude was a skill one could lose like schoolgirl Latin, or whether it was simply a talent one acquired, bike-like, never afterwards forgotten. Now, of course, she knows her limits better.

— Salt Slow by Julia Armfield (59%)