UniqueBook - 2004
From the critics
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I am high up in the mountains, sitting on their shoulders, breathing the rock-cold smell of sheep and earth and granite. Way down below me, where the dark slopes plunge towards each other, a pale mass is floating in the valley. A whipped-cream of mist. The sun is bleeding over the ridge opposite, but it hasn't gone down into the valley yet. Somewhere down in that valley there are dead bodies. Dead because of me. A crow squarks, sudden and close. It is time to begin the journey home.
Whatever it was that she wanted me to remember, I'll never know for certain. So I'll decide for myself what I want to remember. I'll remember that no matter how bad things get, I'd rather be me than anyone else. I'll remember those honey-hazel eyes, those lioness eyes that last looked up at me from a mass of sharp, sliding rock. I'll remember Pops and his bald old head full of forgotten memories, and Mum with her leaky emotions and passionate heart, and Giles and Becky. And Nick. All unique and unrepeatable, like cloud-shadows on mountains or flames in a fire.
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