The Forgetting

by Hannah Beckerman

‘What about all these books?’ Dominic held up a couple of tattered paperbacks, Elizabeth Taylor in one hand, Elizabeth Jane Howard in the other. ‘They’re some of my favourites. I can’t get rid of those.’ Dominic turned them over, scrutinised their jackets. ‘Come on, they’re a bit trashy. We don’t need to keep them, do we?’ Livvy took one from him, thumbed through it. ‘They’re not trashy. They’re modern classics.’ Dominic raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Well, we can’t take everything with us – there won’t be room. And you can’t care about them that much if they’ve been stuffed in a box for the past fourteen months.’ Livvy decided not to remind him that it wasn’t her decision for her books to have been stashed away all this time. When she’d first moved in and unpacked some of her best-loved novels – Elizabeth Taylor, Elizabeth Jane Howard, Agatha Christie, Patricia Highsmith – Dominic had looked at his bookshelves, already full, and turned to her apologetically: ‘I’m not sure there’s going to be room for these in the sitting room. Do you mind if we store them in the office for now? We’ll find some space after you’ve settled in.’ Somehow, the space had never been found. ‘Are you happy for me to throw these out?’ Dominic held up a pair of framed Frida Kahlo prints that had once graced the walls of Livvy’s flat. ‘No, I really like those. I know there was never room for them here, but maybe there will be in our new place.’ Dominic looked at one picture and then the other. ‘You don’...