This is a tantalising scrap of a story, something which one might think could have made a full length novel without seeming overblown. An unnamed narrator listens to music on a flight from London to Australia. Why he's going, what the music means to him and why is wrecked his marriage will become clear, but his future is left unsure. One things that is clear is that he's not going to have an easy time.
Having enjoyed Coe's last novel The Terrible Privacy Of Maxwell Sim
which also started on a plane and also featured a trip to Australia, I almost felt the narrator here looking on at the hapless Sim or joining Coe himself in the story. There is a sense in it of loss, of trying to stop time, and missing what's under your nose, that seems rather autobiographical - or perhaps it's just a universal thing.
A good read, though very, very short indeed.