I interrupted him. ‘When you read about “monsters”,’ I said, ‘household names … you forget they had families. They don’t just spring from nowhere. You never think about the people that are left behind to deal with the aftermath of it all.’
He nodded slowly.
‘I’ve requested access to my files from Social Services now. I’ve had cause to review my opinion of the Freedom of Information Act, Raymond, and let me tell you, it’s actually a splendid piece of legislation. When it arrives, I’m going to sit down and read it cover to cover — the Bumper Book of Eleanor. I need to know everything — all the little details. That’s going to help me. Or depress me. Or both.’
I smiled, to show him I wasn’t worried, and to make sure that he wasn’t worried either.
‘It’s more than that though, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘All those lost years, wasted years. Terrible things happened to you. You needed help back then and you didn’t get it. You’ve got a right to it now, Eleanor—’ He shook his head, unable to find the words.
‘In the end, what matters is this: I survived.’ I gave him a very small smile. ‘I survived, Raymond!’ I said, knowing that I was both lucky and unlucky, and grateful for it.
When it was time to leave, I noticed and appreciated Raymond’s effort to move the conversation towards something else, something normal.
‘What have you got planned for the rest of the week, then?’ he said.
I counted things off on my fingers. ‘I’ve got to take Glen to the vet for her vaccinations,’ I said, ‘and I’ve got a Christmas night out at the safari park to organize. Their website says that they’re closed for winter, but I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade them.’
We went outside and stood by the doorway for a moment, enjoying the sunshine. He rubbed his face, then looked over my shoulder towards the trees. He cleared his throat again. One of the many perils of being a smoker.
‘Eleanor, did you get my email about that concert? I was just wondering whether—’
‘Yes,’ I said, smiling. He nodded, looked closely at me, and then slowly smiled back. The moment hung in time like a drop of honey from a spoon, heavy, golden. We stood aside to let a woman in a wheelchair and her friend go inside. Raymond’s lunch break was almost up. I had the rest of the day to spend however I wanted.
‘Bye then, Raymond,’ I said. He pulled me in for a hug and held me for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I felt the warm bulk of him, soft but strong. When we broke apart, I kissed his cheek, his bristles all soft and ticklish.
‘See you soon, Eleanor Oliphant,’ he said.
I picked up my shopper, fastened my jerkin and turned towards home.
Thank you to my friends and to my family, and also to the following people and organisations:
Janice Galloway, for always being wise and inspiring.
My amazing agent Madeleine Milburn, and her colleagues at the agency, for their enthusiasm, expertise, advice and support.
My editors, Martha Ashby in the UK and Pamela Dorman in the US, who took meticulous care of the book and brought insight, wisdom and good humour to the editorial process. My thanks also to their talented colleagues at HarperCollins and Penguin Random House respectively who were involved in designing, producing and raising awareness of the book. I am very fortunate to be in such good hands.
The Scottish Book Trust selected me to receive the Next Chapter Award which, amongst other things, allowed me to spend time writing and editing at Moniack Mhor Creative Writing Centre. I’m very grateful to both organisations.
My writers’ group, for constructive feedback, helpful discussion and good company.
George and Annie, for their generous hospitality and unstinting encouragement.
Finally, thanks to George Craig, Vicki Jarrett, Kirsty Mitchell and Philip Murnin. I’m very grateful for their supportive friendship, editorial insight and good humoured encouragement while I was writing (and not writing) this book.
While Gail Honeyman was writing her debut novel, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine , it was shortlisted for the Lucy Cavendish Fiction Prize as a work in progress. It has subsequently sold to almost thirty territories worldwide, and it was chosen as one of the Observer’s Debuts of the Year for 2017.
Gail was also awarded the Scottish Book Trust’s Next Chapter Award in 2014, and has been longlisted for BBC Radio 4’s Opening Lines and shortlisted for the Bridport Prize. She lives in Glasgow.
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