‘Your dad said all history is personal,’ I said. ‘We are walking histories. And the stuff that happened to us years ago is still inside us. And we choose how much to excavate.’ ‘I like that,’ he said again. Yes, yes, you do like that, I thought because I’m hell-bent on making you like me, and Michael flashed into my mind, all handsome and tidy, and Barnaby Blue’s shirt flapped open at the bottom where there wasn’t a button, showing the top of his boxer shorts, and a line of hair, going down down, Eva, Eva, Eva, I said to myself, stop that at once, you are going down down to a very dangerous
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