History of a Marriage 
 In his two most recent novels, David Nicholls has shown himself an amusing historian of British middle-class life over the past three decades. More significantly, he has revealed a sensitivity to the emotional connections between people who care for one another but just seem to miss the story-book endings. In each case, he has done this by means of a narrative device of blatant artificiality; whether you savor the subtle notes of his rich vintage will depend a lot on how you feel about the glass in which the wine is served. 
 In One Day, Nicholls told the story of a couple who meet on the same day each year for two decades, but mostly just miss making their relationship permanent. Us turns this inside out, beginning with a couple who have been married for twenty years, and then putting that marriage under the microscope. Douglas Petersen is a biochemist in a good job with a celebrated company. His wife, Connie, is a former artist, now working in the education department of a museum. On the first page, she wakes him in the middle of the night to say, "I think our marriage has run its course. Douglas, I think I want to leave you." Not immediately, though; they had planned a month-long European tour with their son Albie before he goes off to college, and Connie still wants to do it. Douglas looks to this as a chance to repair his damaged relationship with his son and convince his wife to stay. So off they go. 
 As a narrative container, the grand tour (Paris, Amsterdam, Munich, Venice, and parts south) is almost as arbitrary a device as the yearly meetings of the earlier book. But the underlying situation is painfully real, and you just want Douglas to do the right things that will bring them all together again. Nicholls has a nice way of telling the story, in very short chapters with cute titles. The family's experiences will ring bells with anyone who has visited Europe recently, especially with a disaffected teenager. And it soon turns out to be holiday hell. In between sections we get flashbacks about how Douglas and Connie met and the early years of their relationship. He seems to have appealed to her as an island of normality in her unbuttoned lifestyle with her artist friends. But here is another example of Nicholls' artifice; in order to set up his premise, he has to make Douglas so much the square to Connie's free spirit that it is a surprise they stayed together two weeks, let alone twenty years. And the many scenes in various art galleries only widen the gulf between his science and her art. 
 So, despite enjoying the journey a lot, by the halfway point I was poised to give the book three stars. But then something happens to break the pattern, and then another, and then another. I found that my understanding of both characters had deepened, but also that I was no longer so sure how I wanted the story to end. I won't say more, except that the last 150 pages simply fly past. And then Nicholls manages a coda of such radiance as to make anything less than four stars impossible.