We’re delighted to run an extract from poet Owen Sheers’ brilliant new novel, I Saw A Man.

IN THE END it had been Samantha with whom Michael had talked the most at that first party in November. Aside from her few initial questions she’d remained largely silent as he’d discussed BrotherHoods with Tony, Maddy and the others. Alert and listening, but quiet. As the party had begun to thin, however, she’d remained in the front room to say her goodbyes, as if she was reluctant to leave Michael, or to speak to anyone else for too long before she’d spoken more to him. Eventually Tony and Maddy had also left, Tony helping his wife into a heavy fur coat before following another couple out of the front door and into the winter dusk of the street.

There was something of a royal departure in their exit. Samantha kissed them on both cheeks, but with a formality at odds with Josh’s extravagance – his hugging of Tony and his grasping of Maddy’s shoulders as he told her, ‘It’s been so good to see you guys. Really, it’s been far too long. Far too long.’ Maddy nodded her assent with closed eyes, absorbing his enthusiasm with a benevolent smile.

When Josh showed them to the door Samantha and Michael were left in the room alone. Putting down her glass, Samantha moved between the side lamps, turning them on. She seemed distracted, brittle. Tony’s voice came to them through the windows. ‘If you say so, Josh,’ he called through a laugh. ‘But I’ll believe it when I see it!’ Samantha drew the curtains.

‘Coffee?’ she asked as she turned on the lamp beside an armchair.

‘Yes,’ Michael replied, surprised by his own reluctance to leave. ‘Thanks.’

They drank their coffees on the sofa. ‘So Tony really liked you,’ Samantha said, prising off her heels and tucking her stockinged feet under her thighs. She pulled a cushion across her stomach and held it there, like a baby, close against her.

‘He liked my book,’ Michael said. ‘Which isn’t the same thing as liking its author.’

Samantha smiled, a tired acceptance. ‘Well, whatever, you’re lucky. Tony doesn’t like many people.’ She took a sip of her coffee before adding, ‘He prides himself on his taste.’ She said the last word as if its own flavour was bitter. ‘Josh said they’ve known each other since college?’

‘Yes. Tony was best man at our wedding.’

She shifted her position, leaning in closer to Michael as she did. His head felt light with wine and he realised that she, too, must have been more than a little drunk.

‘Josh has always looked up to Tony,’ she said. Then she laughed suddenly. ‘And not just literally either!’

‘And Maddy?’ Michael asked. ‘Have you known her long too?’

Samantha raised an eyebrow. ‘No. No, Maddy’s more recent. She’s his second wife. Mind you,’ she said as if acknowledging the achievements of a rival, ‘he’s her third husband.’

‘Impressive,’ Michael said, although it sounded more impossible to him than impressive. With Caroline gone he couldn’t imagine the existence of a second, let alone a third wife. Marriage felt like a finite resource to him, a rare ore he’d already exhausted with Caroline’s going.

‘It must be wonderful,’ Samantha said.

He looked up and realised she’d been staring at him. She was smiling in a new way, as if she was proud of him. ‘To live by your writing. To live by what you want to do.’

Her emphasis suggested the idea was as impossible to her as Maddy’s third marriage had been to Michael.

‘It can be,’ he said. ‘But often it isn’t. Being your own boss. I don’t know, that isn’t always a freedom.’

She looked at him as if he hadn’t understood her. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, looking away to the bookshelves across the room. The lamp at her side lit the fine hairs on her cheek and her upper lip. She wore diamond earrings, small, neat. Her cheekbones were high and Michael saw how once she must have been beautiful, in quite a remarkable way.

‘What would that be for you?’ he asked her. ‘Your “do”?’ ‘My “do”?’ she said, laughing. ‘Christ, where to begin?’

ENDS

From I Saw A Man by Owen Sheers (Faber and Faber). Signed first edition copies are available from the Idler bookshop.

Owen Sheers is a poet, author and playwright. His first novel, Resistance, was translated into ten languages and adapted into a film. The Dust Diaries, his Zimbabwean non-fiction narrative, won the Welsh Book of the Year. His awards for poetry and drama include the Somerset Maugham Award for Skirrid Hill, The Hay Festival Poetry Medal and the Welsh Book of the Year for Pink Mist and the Amnesty International Freedom of Expression Award for his play The Two Worlds of Charlie F. He is Professor in Creativity at Swansea University and lives in Wales with his wife and daughter.