A few minutes after that, I break wind. ‘Moped,’ I say, and I shrug.
Leo laughs – even after all these years – he laughs, and says, ‘You are disgusting, Emma.’
And this, now, is my life. My whole life, not my half-life. Emma and Leo. Leo and Emma.
We have been married for three weeks, together eleven years, and he knows every part of me.
Acknowledgements
And then there was a book!
This one didn’t take a village, it took a small continent. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to a great many people.
First and foremost, my thanks to those who’ve spared their time and expertise:
Professor John Spicer, Professor Mark Bower, Tim Bullamore, Dr Natalie Smith, Hannah Parry-Wilson, Dr Karl Scheeres, Hannah Walker, Dr Mike Rayment, Betty Lou Layland, Andrew Brown and the obituaries team at the Telegraph, Nathan Morris, Melissa Kay, Stuart Gibbon, Dr Ray Leakey, Dr David Barnes, Kian Murphy, Rose Child, David Bonser, Richard Hines, Dr Matt Williams, Rosie Greenwood, Professor Carl Sayer, Sarah Denton, Rosie Mason, Max Fisher, Chippy Douglass, Sophie Kenny-Levick and Bill Markham.
And to those friends who have supplied everything from psychiatrist introductions to virtual tours of the BBC’s New Broadcasting House:
Josie Lee, Kate Hannay, Natalie Barrass, Vikki Humphreys, Ed Harrison, Elin Somer, Claire Willers, Angela Waterstone, Emily Koch, Marc Butler, Alex Brown, Jack Bremer, Claudine Pavier, Michael Pagliero, James Pagliero, Jo Nadin and Dave Walters.
To my wonderful writer friends who’ve kindly provided feedback on drafts, or helped me brainstorm plotlines: Emma Stonex, Emylia Hall, Kate Riordan, Rowan Coleman, Jane Green and Cally Taylor. Thanks also to George Pagliero, Caroline Walsh and Emma Holland.
To the many people I’ve spoken to informally at death cafes, charities, marine ecology events, obituary events, parties, even – so many hundreds of conversations have made this book possible. Thank you to you all.
Unending thanks to my miracle-worker publishers, Pan Macmillan （UK）， Viking （USA） and the many others around the world who have published me in nearly thirty-five languages. Dream come true doesn’t even begin to cover it.
My most grateful thanks to my brilliant UK editor, Sam Humphreys, who sent me back to this manuscript again and again. You were always right. Thank you for the many brainstorms – including that awful one when I was half dead with morning sickness – and your endless encouragement and kindness during a challenging writing experience.
To the amazing team at Pan Macmillan: Alice Gray, Charlotte Wright, Rosie Wilson, Ellie Bailey, Sian Chilvers, Holly Sheldrake and Becky Lloyd. Thanks, also, to my legendary US editor, Pam Dorman, for taking an unnecessarily dark story and pushing me to turn it into something people might actually want to read. You lifted this book in so many ways.
To Lizzy Kremer, my peerless agent, for the many reads and editorial suggestions, and for rescuing me more than once from writer’s block and crippling self-doubt. Thank you for your belief in this book, your love of the characters, and for always wanting the very best for me – not to mention the book deals and years of skilful diplomacy. To Allison Hunter, my US agent, for the many plot brainstorms and reads, and for holding my hand through such difficult times – if a book deal of dreams wasn’t enough, you’ve been an absolute rock to me. Thanks also to Maddalena Cavaciuti and Kay Begum.
To Alice Howe and her incredible translation rights team at David Higham Associates – I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for what you’ve achieved on my behalf. Thank you for getting my words into the hands of readers even in the most far-flung corners of the earth.
To my writing partner, author Deborah O’Donaghue – Deb, I don’t know where to begin. You must have spent weeks of your life reading and editing this book. So many of the breakthroughs I’ve had have been as a result of a Skype with you; so many good bits are yours. Thank you for your kindness and encouragement, your respectful questions and your inability to let me get away with anything that doesn’t add up. You know how much of this book is down to you.