Epilogue

The television was on.

“Ooh, look - it's whatsisname”

“Kevin Atkinson”

“he's brilliant. Have you ever worked with him?”

“yup. He's a bit dull actually.”

“really?”

“yeah. And he's got four children by four different women.”

“you're kidding.”

“and those are contact lenses.”

“bloody Nora. Who'd have guessed it? Kevin Blinking Atkinson.”

“Kevin Blinking Atkinson.”

“You know everyone, don't you?”

He smiled and kissed the head of the only person he thought worth knowing.

“uhhuh”

Acknowledgements

Thank you, Mum and Dad, my meticulous copy-editors through life, for your constant, enthusiastic and totally biased support.

Thank you, Andrew, for being away on business so much that I had time to write a novel. And thank you for coming back, reading my work again and again, laughing at the right bits and making constructive criticism so sweetly that I didn't want to shoot you.

Thank you, Frances Quinn, for your practical and emotional support. It proved invaluable.

On a more general note, thank you, Claude Lum, for being a rock in my life through the hard times.

Without these people this book would not have been written. So if you don't like it, go to them.