Forever and a Day

by Anthony Horowitz

Bond had always had a loathing of opera; its absurdly large women, its histrionics, its noise. The fact that Larsen was spending his last night there was somehow fitting. He was on his way from one hell to another.

It was an Édith Piaf album, Chansons Parisiennes.

Isn’t that how marriage works? The days go by and you settle into a routine and piece by piece everything is taken away from you until there are two complete strangers sitting in the same room.