What Does It Feel Like?

by Sophie Kinsella

Of course she works hard—but she’s also constantly aware of the good fortune she’s had. She’s lucky to have met Nick. She’s lucky to have been fertile and had children. She’s lucky that she’s able to write. She’s lucky her brain came up with the right idea at the right time and she was able to write Hey Big Spender.

“Cancer is a buzzkill, what with the pills and the chemo and the dying.” “Yes,” says Nick thoughtfully. “It’s a fucker. But luckily…” Eve laughs, because “luckily” is their family watch word. Tack it on to any gloomy sentence, they have instructed their children, and you can turn things around, viz: It’s raining. But luckily, we’ve all got umbrellas. I hate hockey. But luckily, I also play football. I have incurable cancer. But luckily, my last scan was good. “Luckily,” reiterates Nick, “there’s always a cup of tea.”

“Maybe I don’t want a bucket list at all. I think what I want is just to live like we do anyway—you know, do our work and go for walks and watch Come Dine with Me—but have a slightly nicer version of it. Normal but better. Call it ‘Normal plus.’ ” “ ‘Normal plus,’ ” says Nick. “I like that. Let’s aim for normal plus in everything we do. So when we go out to see a film, we upgrade to slightly nicer cinema tickets.” “Exactly. And we eat nicer food than we would have done normally.” “When we watch Come Dine with Me, we have exotic snacks,” suggests Nick, “and therefore elevate the experience.”

She knows this cancer is not her fault—it’s just bad luck. But what she has learned is that you can feel guilty for having had bad luck.