13

The Twist at the End

Images

Today is Day 66. I’m at one of the most stunning hotels I’ve ever stayed in: the five-star Shangri-La in London, in the Shard building. It has staggering views of this beautiful city that I am in so often but never really look at because I’m always marching with my head down, praying I won’t bump into anyone I know because even a three-minute chat would make me late for seventeen meetings.

That’s right: I’m happy to report that my day-to-day life has not yet changed in any way. It’s still bonkers and unsustainable, and I’m still very happy with it – far happier than is good for me. My stair carpets, for example, are so severely in need of a hoovering that I can barely see what colour they are any more, and I don’t much care. One day I’ll let my cleaner come and sort it out, or my husband will notice and do it; that’s good enough for me.

(In case you’re wondering, the emergency carpet situation has arisen because I’ve cancelled my cleaner three times in a row. I’ve got some big deadlines looming, not to mention my son’s mock GCSEs – and please don’t think that this is a matter only for his attention and not mine; gone are those days, as any parent of a contemporary teenager will confirm – and the thought of having someone in my house that I have to exchange even three words with that aren’t swearwords is something I can’t face at the moment. I know some people don’t chat to their cleaners, but it’s impossible for me to allow someone in my house to go un-chatted to – therefore, it’s scruffy dog-hair-covered carpets for the win! That’s my new thought and it’s working beautifully.)

The carpet situation at home makes me appreciate the immaculate luxury of the Shangri-La even more. This hotel has the highest swimming pool in western Europe, which I cannot wait to swim in. At the moment I’m sitting on a lounger beside it, with my laptop balanced on a folded bathrobe on my knees. This purpose of this weekend trip is to celebrate my daughter’s seventeenth birthday. It’s also my present to myself for solving the mystery of happiness. As if that weren’t enough, it is Day 66 of the experiment that I’m still pursuing, and still calling the 65 Days, even though, as you can see, I’m invoking Inventor’s Privilege and adding a 66th. Why? Because this book will be published in 2020, which is a leap year. We get an extra day, so it might as well be a ‘special purpose’ day rather than an ordinary one.

So. Day 66: Twist Something. Or Add a Twist to Something, maybe. That sounds better. Because although I’ve solved the mystery of happiness, I can now reveal that (as so often in mystery stories) there’s a further twist.

Here’s the problem: I have found a logical contradiction in my solution to the mystery of happiness. I know, dear sidekick – you were being tactful and not mentioning it, but I’m afraid we’d better face it head-on.

If the solution to the mystery of happiness is actively and passionately working to solve the mystery of happiness, that suggests that one must believe one hasn’t already solved it. Because if it’s already solved, why would you bother putting in the effort? That means I have to choose: either I can pursue the mystery of happiness, full of zestful confidence that I can and will solve it, or else I can believe I’ve already solved it, in which case there’s nothing to pursue. Anything else would be an illogical continuity error.

I prefer the pursuit and the mystery, so that’s what I’m choosing. Which means I need to believe I haven’t solved anything, and that’s not so hard to do. All thoughts and beliefs are optional, after all. And, let’s face it, what are the chances that a crime writer with frizzy hair and unhoovered carpets could solve such a profound mystery so quickly and easily?

So, on with the next phase of the investigation, which will take place in a five-star hotel’s swimming pool. There’s no time to lose! Let’s solve this thing!