It still fits him, somehow. ‘They don’t make quality like this anymore,’ he says. The same line he uses every time he fetches it from the back of the cupboard. ‘It’s not that cold,’ I say. ‘Maybe I just felt like wearing it.’ ‘You felt like smelling of mothballs and itching?’ ‘You came out here j...
Simon sat in the back of Ned’s blue station wagon. Gin was in the front passenger seat and Audrey sat next to Simon in the back. Pony had disappeared when Ned went looking for him, and Simon was somehow disappointed not to have him here as well. They followed the faint dus...