I bet you I can think up twenty worst-case scenarios before you could even think of one.’ ‘Never been one for worst-case scenarios,’ Jackson says. He crouches to dip his roller in the tray; his wrists are flecked with paint now, new, brighter freckles. ‘When they happen, you cope. And it’s usually one you’ve not thought of that gets you, so why worry?’ God, what I would give to think like that. The sheer simplicity of it.
