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The things I remember

A Quiet Riot With Words & Art

Heatwaves and AI

HonestInk,

This weather is magnificent. This whole Summer has been so far. As a little gardener it’s been a fabulous mix of glorious sun with enough rain in-between to help with the watering. On Monday with the aid of a gadget I obtained after much reading of reviews from trusty amazon, I connected my hose to my weirdly shaped kitchen tap. Since then I’ve watered everything in sight including cleaning my windows and splattering bugs off the cream painted rendering. I’ve filled my water butt twice in three days out of my living room window much to the annoyance of the kids. It’s fabulous. I’ve heard today we are now on a hosepipe ban. Oh how I laughed and laughed at that one.

Anyway as usual I digress. This hot Summer has reminded me of a book I read at least 15 years ago and I’ve since searched google so many times for.

Tonight I suddenly thought ‘ask Bob’ and it went like this:

”I am trying to locate a book I read at least 15 years ago. It is set in the UK one very hot Summer. A woman goes to stay with her sister and the story becomes as heavy as the stifling weather. The bit I remember is early on this woman sits outside a local cafe and eats figs and yoghurt for breakfast. Can you help?

ChatGPT said:

Thought for 6 seconds
It looks like the book you’re trying to recall is Talking to the Dead by Helen Dunmore.

Here’s why it matches your description:

The story opens on a blazingly hot UK summer, creating a sense of oppressive heat.

A woman (a writer in the book) travels to stay with her sister, who has a new baby.

Early on, there’s a vivid scene of the protagonist eating figs and yogurt outside a café for breakfast.

As they live together, the intense heat mirrors the emotional heaviness in their relationship, and the plot unravels a dark family secret (one involving trauma between the sisters)

If this title rings a bell, here’s a little more:

Talking to the Dead was published in 1996 and is a psychological novel about family tensions, class differences, and buried guilt.

The tone becomes increasingly claustrophobic—like “stifling summer air”—exactly as the narrative deepens.

Would you like a summary of the plot, help finding a copy, or info about similar books?


You said:
Thank you Bob you are brilliant!”

So tomorrow in the 28C I’ll be in the shade reading, watching my tomatoes ripen and tanning my toes. Fabulous.

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