A deceptively light-hearted, waspish take on a triangular love affair in a lovingly-portrayed London. Slightly unnerving and almost completely heartless - I enjoyed it very much.
On Friday, New Year's Eve, he faced the horror of his wardrobe. Firstly, he ruled out what he wore for school - cords and chinos, the round-neck jumpers - and examined the rest. If what one wears says who one is, David decided he was either a lumberjack (three plaid shirts) or a slovenly undertaker (one black suit with a crusty stain on the sleeve). He stood in front of his wardrobe mirror in a pair of checked boxer shorts, and then in the bathroom stepped tentatively onto the scales. The needle swung and vacillated with his heart. Fourteen stone seven pounds. He used to weigh - when he started at Goldsmiths - twelve stone three. According to his mother, he once came in at seven pounds and six ounces of blessing and trouble.