“Too late for the Early-bird Special,” said Michael.
“Too young to die.”
Gotta love a writer who can slip some Jethro Tull lyrics in his casual dialogues.
And that is before taking into consideration the walking part of the novel. I love my long walks in nature after a week spent in front of a computer screen and I was more than a little jealous of the journey from coast to coast in the north of England Nicholls describes so vividly in his latest romance . Not surprisingly, I found out afterwards that the author walked the route himself for documentation and for pleasure.
‘I think it’s weird. Where are you actually going?’
‘In a circle usually. I park the car. I walk away from the car. When I’m far enough away, I walk back to the car.’
So, let’s grab a bag of M & M’s and find out where we are going with this ...
Marnie and Michael are both middle-aged and lonely, trying to cope with failed marriages and with the havoc caused by lockdowns and by the passing of time. Professionally, both M and M have good, interesting jobs that somehow fit with their own passions: reading for Marnie, who is a self-employed copy-editor and proof-reader in London; nature and history for Michael who is a geography teacher in York. But both are lonely and wary of getting back into the dating game, preferring solitary pursuits and modest, achievable daily routines.
Year by year, friends were lost to marriage and parenthood with partners she didn’t care for or who didn’t care for her, retreating to new, spacious, ordered lives in Hastings or Stevenage, Cardiff or York, while she fought on in London. Others were lost to apathy or carelessness, friendship like a thank-you letter she kept meaning to write until too much time had passed and it became an embarrassment. And perhaps it was natural, this falling away. Real life was rarely a driftwood fire or a drunken game of Twister, and it was part of growing up to let go of those fantasies of perpetual skinny-dipping and deep talks.
This early passage hits a little too close to home for my comfort, but on the other hand it confirms my high regard for Nicholls induced by a couple of his earlier novels. I knew my journey was off to a good start, even with the classic set-up from rom-coms of the accidental meeting between two strangers who take an instant dislike to each other. Because it so happens that M and M have a common friend, Cleo, who likes to play match-maker and to set blind dates. When Michael mentions his plan to walk from the Irish Sea, across the Lake District and all the way over into Yorkshire in one week, Cleo invites Marnie and another two couples on the trip.
Bad weather and miscommunication doom the expedition from the start, both Marnie and Michael soon regretting their decision to go out of their way to be sociable and ‘fun’ . I know from personal experience nature demands respect if it is to be enjoyed. Long hikes need careful preparation, adequate equipment [clothing, footwear, backpack, etc] and a minimum of physical fitness. A group with unknown members will always generate friction, but then every rom-com ever written needs some sort of conflict for the heroes to overcome.
Nicholls makes the trip fun and even educative with his trademark flair for natural flowing dialogue and for understated, gentle humour. A long day of walking, even in inclement weather, can also create bonds and break some of the ice between strangers, conversationally. It’s a gradual thing, two steps forward and one back, tentative and easily spooked by a wrong comment or a wrong look. For me, this slow lowering of the drawbridge to the castle walls that we raise to protect ourselves from disillusionment was the best part of the novel. This, and the way Nicholls has of describing a relationship:
You know that thing when you’re watching a film that you’re not really enjoying and the other person doesn’t like it either, but you’ve paid for the rental, you’re halfway through, you sort of want to know what happens and, besides, there’s nothing else on. But really you’re just waiting for someone to say, “Can we stop this? I hate it.” And neither of us did. Some people sit like that for their whole lives together.
I’m not going to tell here what the destination implied in the title is, how M & M got Here is the actual story.
I like to think Here means outside, in the real world with other people and taking chances, enjoying the scenery as opposed to locked behind castle walls and taking small comforts in solitary pursuits. It a hard walk, often a slog in cold rain and strong winds, but look at the view from the top of the hill!
I also hope the novel will be turned into a movie soon. Hollywood needs original scripts with intelligent dialogue and ordinary people doing ordinary things to balance out the endless slasher or revenge flicks and CGI extravaganzas.