When my husband died from a heart attack in 2016, I wrote his eulogy in disjointed notes on my phone at 3am. The task felt bigger than language itself. These acknowledgements seem almost as difficult, because it’s not just about the book. It’s about everything that happened in the six years leading up to it, and I’d need another 90,000 words to adequately express my gratitude for the outpouring of support we received. My heartfelt thanks to everyone who held us in your arms during our tragedy. You saved us.
Writing a deeply personal story and sharing it with the world is daunting. While much of Kate’s experience is not my own (I have not found my Hugh), the grief is mine. From the moment I met Ali Watts at Penguin Random House, I knew my words were safe. Ali, your compassion and empathy was as valuable as your brilliant professional advice. Your excitement over this story was infectious. You believed in it – and in me – from the start, and it wouldn’t be half the book it is without your editorial eye. I am a better writer because of you.
Amanda Martin, your experienced editing, seamless project management and endless, gentle encouragement has made the path to publication a truly magical one. You have a collaborative, beautiful way about your work, and there wasn’t a moment when I felt the story slipping from my ownership, yet your genius is all over it.
Nikki Townsend, thank you for the stunning cover design and for capturing the spirit of the story so perfectly. Jessica Malpass, thank you for handling the publicity for the book with such enthusiasm and sensitivity. Vanessa Lanaway, thank you for proofreading when I could no longer see the words. Rebecca Cowie, thanks for the whirlwind tour of Canberra bookshops and for easing my path locally.
To my gem of an agent, Anjanette Fennell, you’ve made my publishing dreams a reality, and I’ll always be grateful for the enduring friendship that has grown out of our work together.
Gaetane Burkolter, you’re my ‘story whisperer’ and first-draft editor. You help me bring alive the skeleton of every new book. Bec Sparrow, your endorsement of this book means so much.
Amanda Whitley, Beatrice Smith and all at HerCanberra, you gave my grief writing a soft place to land.
Kat, Ree, Annette, Kate, Mel, Annemarie, Cath, Fionna, Karen, Karen, Linley, Michele, Nina, Beth – your early feedback gave me much-needed confidence. The Tuesday night writing group, and Ness, Sal, Heidi, Tania and Emma Z – your creativity influences mine.
Matt and the TNC team, you’re a fantastic support. Jeff’s colleagues and Barbara, heartfelt thanks for Jacksonville and New York.
Trevor, Elena and Liza, thank you for your compassionate welcome into the club none of us wanted to join. Ann, thank you for lending me one of your heartbreaking stories; Megan, thank for all of our chats about widowhood over the years. I have too many widowed friends to mention individually, but I love and admire you all.
My writerly besties, Nina Campbell and Rachael Morgan, together with Anjanette you’ve done more than you’ll ever know in helping me reach for the stars.
Clair and Harry, thanks for all the lawn mowing while I write, and for rescuing us in myriad other ways. You’re the real ‘hot neighbours’. And April, thank you for your sparkling enthusiasm.
Alison A, for the joy with which you greet each new chapter; Ali, Al and Lynd, for the enduring love since we were teenagers, and for reading every word for over thirty years. Sal, for all the lasagne, the gardening and the professional advice you’ve given so generously – and for the late-night hot chocolates when it all got too much. And for picking me up every time – all of you.
Audrey, for every time I’ve interrupted our work with plot problems, for every draft you’ve read and every word of encouragement you’ve given me, I thank you from the deepest part of my heart. You are extraordinary.
Paul, Abbey and Lucy, thanks for believing in me, loving me and putting up with me and my distractedness.
Sarah, thank you for #KTF and for telling me honestly when it’s not good enough. You’re always right and you make me a better writer, sister and person.
Victoria and Duncan, Jake and Meg – I will always love you, and not just because you’re an ongoing part of Jeff in my world. Rex and Julian – thank you for being the light in our lives. He would have adored you in ways the world has never seen.
To my beloved parents, Barrie and Claire, who have a cameo in the book as their amazing selves, since the moment you taught me to read, you’ve supported every step. This story is a tribute to your love as well, and to Dad’s endless and unfathomably patient care of Mum through dementia.
Hannah and Sophie, since you were little you’ve watched me work for this dream. Now you’re adults, I love sharing it with you as it unfolds. The way you responded as teenagers when our world shattered is the most impressive thing I’ve ever witnessed, and your resilience since has been inspiring. Love to Jack and Tom, too.
Sebastian, you handle life without Dad in a way that couldn’t impress me more, with a maturity beyond your years. Our writing dates and mutual creative encouragement are some of the most magical and unexpected delights in my life. Dad was always immeasurably proud of you, and always will be.
Jeff, I needed to create two heroes in an attempt to capture the extent of my love for you, and even then it was impossible. You will always be more than Cam and Hugh combined. You said to ‘be brilliant’. You said to go out into the world and get on with life. You could never have known how hard that would be without you, and how fervently I wish I didn’t have the experience to have written this novel, but I hope, wherever you are, it makes you proud. You are in every word. I will always keep the light on for you. x
BOOK CLUB NOTES
‘What a precious escape this was.’ Kate feels like her ride on the motorbike is a break from her grief. How does meeting Justin shake things up for her?
What is it about death and grief that we find so difficult to talk about?
How do you build your own identity and dreams within a long-term relationship?
If you lost a partner, what do you think would be the hardest part of meeting someone new?
Kate worries that widows are always judged when they fall in love again. What do you think drives this judgement?
What are your thoughts on the question Cam asked Hugh?
Do you think Hugh did the right thing, keeping the secret from Kate? What would you have done?
How might the novel have played out differently if Kate’s loss had been sudden instead of gradual?
What was the saddest moment in the novel for you?
Grace and Hugh looked good ‘on paper’. If it wasn’t for Kate, do you think they could have made it?
They say to ‘write what you know’. Based on that advice, if you were going to write a book, what would it be about?
What dreams have you been deferring that you’d most regret if time ran out?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR