PENGUIN BOOKS
A TOUCH OF LOVE
Jonathan Coe was born in Birmingham in 1961. His most recent novel is The Rain Before It Falls. He is also the author of The Accidental Woman, A Touch of Love, The Dwarves of Death, What a Carve Up! , which won the 1995 John Llewellyn Rhys Prize, The House of Sleep , which won the 1998 Prix Mdicis tranger, The Rotters Club , winner of the Everyman Wodehouse Prize, and The Closed Circle. His biography of the novelist B.S. Johnson, Like a Fiery Elephant , won the 2005 Samuel Johnson Prize for best non-fiction book of the year. He lives in London with his wife and two children.
A Touch of Love
JONATHAN COE
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PENGUIN BOOKS
PENGUIN BOOKS
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First published by Gerald Duckworth and Co. Ltd 1989
First published in Penguin Books in 2000
This edition published 2008
Copyright Jonathan Coe, 1989
All rights reserved
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance
to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject
to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent,
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978-0-14-191690-3
Contents
Note
Id like to thank Michle OLeary for making it possible for me to write about a lawyer; and Pip Lattey for introducing me to the work of Simone Weil, which came to influence this book.
The manuscript was read at various stages by different friends, all of whom were helpful; but two people were especially generous with their support and criticism. They were Nuala Murray (on the first half) and Ralph Pite (on the second). My thanks to them, and also, belatedly, to Anna Haycraft, whose suggestions were both far-reaching and valuable.
The quotation on pages 223-4 is from Gravity and Grace , by Simone Weil, translated by Emma Craufurd and published by Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd.
PART ONE
The Meeting of Minds
Thursday 17th April, 1986
Darling, dont be silly, of course there isnt going to be a nuclear war.
Im just approaching Junction 21. Should be in Coventry in about twenty minutes. Ive got to call in at the university.
Well, forget what he said. He doesnt know what hes talking about. The world is run by sane and sensible people, just like you and me.
I miss you too. Kiss Peter for me. And tell him I
What? No, some maniac pulled out straight in front of me. Some of these people are doing at least ninety. I dont know why the police dont catch them.
I dont know if Ive got time to call on him. Not if I want to be home tonight.
Anyway, what would I say to him? I havent seen him for years. I can barely remember what he looks like.
No, I dont see why we should let him use our holiday cottage. We bought it for us, not for letting out to strangers.
What do you mean, he sounded peculiar?
Darling, he doesnt know what hes talking about. And neither do you. Libya, Syria, America, Russia its a very complicated situation. If you really think the world is going to be plunged into war, then well, Ill come home, obviously.
All right, give me his address.
Yes, Ill pop in this evening when Ive been to the university. It means I probably wont be home till ten. May be later. No, I can find it, Ive got an A to Z.
Now dont panic. Dont watch the news if its upsetting you. Forget he said it.
Ill explain to him about the cottage. I doubt if theres anything wrong, really. Perhaps hes just been working too hard. You know how it is with students, they do nothing for weeks and then they stay up until all hours.
Dont worry. I will.
You too.
Kiss kiss.
Ted came off at Junction 21 and joined the M69. The important thing, as he had come to realize, was to maintain good relations with clients. He had little hope of making a new sale at the university but it was some weeks since he had spoken to Dr Fowler and he wanted to check that the new system had been working properly. After glancing ahead to see that the middle lane was clear, he allowed his eyes to flick across to the passenger seat, and to the file in which he recorded the personal details of his customers. With his left hand he turned the pages until he reached the letter F. Fowler, Dr Stephen. Married, two children: Paul and Nicola. Nicola had had a dental appointment on the 24th of March. Two extractions. This would give him something to start off with. (Steve! Good to see you again. Just thought Id pop in. You know, in the area and all that. Hows the wife and kids? Nickys teeth arent still giving her trouble, I hope? Good. Glad to hear it)
He arrived on campus shortly before five, but Dr Fowler had gone home. A note on his door said that he would be available for consultation the next morning.
Ted took a circuitous route back to the carpark, surprised to find himself enjoying the late sunshine and the unaccustomed experience of being surrounded by people younger than himself. When he reached the car he did not get inside, but sat on the bonnet and looked around him. He had been preparing himself for his encounter with Dr Fowler with the single-mindedness which had recently, for the second time running, won him the firms coveted Salesman of the Year award, so it was only now that he was able to give Katharines phone call any serious thought. The prospects it raised were not pleasant. He had no real wish to see Robin again: if he had, he would have called on him before, on one of his many visits to the university. Least of all did he want to be put in the position of having to look after him, if, as Katharine had suggested, there was something seriously wrong.
Then again, she was always exaggerating.
Ted did not like to approach a situation unarmed; and part of his unease, he realized, could be ascribed to insufficiency of data. Seeing Robin again, knowing nothing about how he had spent the last four years, would be like meeting a stranger.
He thought for a while, and then took out his file and opened it at the letter G. The pages flapped gently in the breeze. Soon he had put down everything he could remember about his old friend.
Grant, Robin.
Graduated from Cambridge, 1981.
Last saw him at wedding, 1982.
Have been sending him Christmas cards and family newsletters (NB is this how he knows about our cottage?).
Family: mother and father, one sister.
Now working on thesis and has been for 4 (?) years.
Said to be sounding peculiar and depressed.
Says he needs a holiday.
Violent reaction to the events of the last two days: says that the bombers should not have been sent into Libya.
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