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251 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 16, 2015
Simon kissed me this evening, a snatched kiss in a canvas tent, and said, quite calmly, 'I love you.'
'Do you know,' I told him, 'it has been twenty-three years and you have never said that before?'
'Have I not?' he asked, slightly surprised. 'But you knew.'
'Of course I knew. I have always known.'
'Well, then,' he said, with mild exasperation, and put his arm round my shoulders.
If Fate grants us another twenty-three years, preferably in comfortable retirement, that would be very welcome. But if it ends tonight, as long as we go together, I shall feel entirely satisfied with my lot.
But I had to tell the story, Henry. I had to let someone know who I was: not merely Simon's assistant, his chronicler, his poor scribbling friend, but the great love of a great life. That I may have lived in his shadow, but I was always by his side. That I was as needful to him as air.