“Dreadful fire at Reiver’s Rest,”’ she intoned with relish. ‘“Poor” – it’s Cara, isn’t it, madam? – “Poor Cara tragically lost. Staying in Gatehouse to comfort poor mother.”’ And so on. It became clear that the telegram was not her… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“That kind of flabby sentiment – thinking that there is good in everyone – is responsible for a great deal of harm.” — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“Birth, death . . .?’ ‘And nappies, madam. Things men don’t do.” — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“What has she done to deserve such scorn?' I said. He had the grace to look uncomfortable as he answered. 'Not her in particular,… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“It’s not bullshit,” he went on. “It’s just not … See the thing is, the pain’s real. The terror—it’s all real. And the causes… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“NO!” I bellowed it at him. “You say that over and over like it’s some kind of slogan. And I never knew why it… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“Oh, you know,’ I said. ‘You say to yourself I’ll spend next week on Christmas shopping and then the week before Christmas on writing… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“I loathe the grading of tragedy and the jostling for pre-eminence amongst the bereaved, that most disgusting example of the disgusting habit of claiming… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
“Dreadful fire at Reiver’s Rest,”’ she intoned with relish. ‘“Poor” – it’s Cara, isn’t it, madam? – “Poor Cara tragically lost. Staying in Gatehouse… — Catriona McPherson Copy Share Image
