Starting Over. Tony Parsons

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       The Shape of A Heart

       She doesn’t feel comfortable driving this car. It is too big, too unfamiliar, too much her husband’s car. And the woman on the sat nav just will not shut up.

       ‘If possible, try to make a U-turn…try to make a U-turn.’

       It is late now. She doesn’t know this neighbourhood. The big BMW X5 rolls past strips of worn-out shops, ugly superstores, unlit yards protected by razor wire. And everywhere, there are the children. In groups of three or four or more, standing by their bikes, the light from their phones glowing in their fists, their faces hidden inside their hooded tops.

       ‘Try to make a U-turn…’

       ‘I’m trying!’ she shouts, suddenly aware that she has had perhaps one glass of wine too many.

       Eyes follow her. At least that is how it feels. She is too well dressed for this area, the car too conspicuously expensive. She should have СКАЧАТЬ