25 Quotes by Susie Steiner

She remembers those moments of coming up against death and having to shock yourself with the permanence of it. The hollow sensation of actively loving a person who cannot love you back because they are dead. And wondering who you are, if the you who was loved by them isn’t being loved by them anymore.

Yes, she’s grumpy, but a skinny latte soon takes the edge off her, most days, anyhow – like throwing a steak into the lion enclosure.

Manon knows what lies beneath, how people can seem normal and yet grief swirls about like an unseen tide working against the currents of life, the mourner wrong-footed by its undertow. The bereaved should wear signs, she thinks, saying GRIEF IN PROGRESS – for at least a couple of years.

She’s always rehearsing, having imaginary conversations in her head that preempt real encounters.

Nature doesn’t know what to do with a childless woman of thirty-nine, except throw her that fertility curveball – aches and pains combined with extra time, like some terrifying end to a high-stakes football match.

No, this is easy-does-it shabby. I-know-who-I-am shabby. Persian-rug shabby.

These days, of course, the old dowager names are all the rage; even stalwarts of the Tory party call their children Florence and Alfred with a knowing wink.