Back downstairs she found a folder full of instructions for anything and everything—the hot water heater, the fact that she had to light the log burner and that would heat everything else. There were no instructions on how to light the log burner. This was obviously something he assumed everybody knew how to do. She opened the back door and glanced outside, and sure enough, just next to the kitchen extension was a huge pile of chopped-up logs that gave off a warm, aromatic smell. In the kitchen were a small packet of fire starters and a box of matches. She stared at them for a long time, feeling as if civilization had ended and she was going to have to get on with life as the last person on earth. She felt the now-familiar feeling of panic creep up on her.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Chapter 23

Cormac figured he should probably go out and look at a bit of London. He took the tube up to Leicester Square, walked into the M&M’s shop while wondering what on earth the point of that was, considered going to see a film until he saw the cost of a ticket, and ended up having a very poor meal in the window of a steak house, exactly as he had the last time. He didn’t feel it was going very well.

How’s it going? Jake had texted him. Met any supermodels yet?

Cormac rolled his eyes. I think I managed to insult someone already, he said. I’m not sure how I’m going to get on here.

Aye, well, everyone in London’s a weirdo, typed Jake, man of the world. Was it a woman?

Think so, typed Cormac tentatively.

Did you apologize?

No.

Well, do that then!

I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for.

That NEVER MATTERS with women.

So Cormac set out to find the local supermarket next to his digs, quite pleased to have an errand.

He found it extremely confusing—there was no square sausage or Irn-Bru, the crisps were different—and in general it was not entirely unlike the time he’d been to Spain and wasn’t sure what to ask for whenever he was hungry, and once he’d ordered some toast with butter and everyone had laughed at him because he’d asked for toast with a donkey on it.

Anyway. He had made a mistake on his very first day and thought he’d take Kim-Ange a small gift. The shop didn’t sell tablet candies or Tunnock’s tea cakes or Edinburgh Rock or soor plooms or Oddfellows, so he was slightly puzzled as to what she might like but eventually went for a box of Dairy Milk and knocked on her door.

She opened it up, looking magnificent in her Japanese robe.