The Bullet That Missed полностью

Elizabeth looks over to the swimming pool, suspended in the sky. There is Joyce swimming laps, her head above water so as not to get her hair wet. The boys, Ron and Ibrahim, are by the side of the pool, wearing overcoats on daybeds. Ibrahim is struggling to read the Financial Times in the wind. Ron is trying to work out how the lid goes back on his coffee cup.

It is far too cold to swim, but Joyce would not be dissuaded. Elizabeth had told her not to be so silly, and that the pool would still be here in the summer.

‘Ah, but we may not be,’ Joyce had replied, and she was right. It was best to grab everything while you could. Who knows when your final swim might come, your final walk, your final kiss? Elizabeth has an idea what secret Bogdan is keeping from her. So be it.

Joyce sees Elizabeth looking, and gives her a wave. Elizabeth waves back. You keep swimming, Joyce. You keep swimming, my beautiful friend. You keep your head above the water for as long as you can.

These acknowledgements are literally the last thing I have to write, and as soon as I finish I am allowed to go on holiday.

I could probably have gone on holiday at other points during the writing, but, honestly, publishers have a way of looking at you that says, ‘Do you really need to be going to CenterParcs this close to your deadline?’

I write this with, as so often, Liesl Von Cat stretched out on my desk. Her paw idly flicks out at me every now and again when my typing gets too loud for her delicate ears.

Whether Liesl is sleeping on my keyboard, blocking my screen or miaowing loudly for food, even though she has literally just been fed, I know that she is constantly trying to help.

Indeed, I am indebted to so many people who have helped, cajoled, supported or, in her case, miaowed at me during the process of writing The Bullet That Missed.

First of all, readers. Nothing happens in this business without readers, and that’s you. Unless you are just reading these acknowledgements in a shop while you’re waiting for someone to buy wrapping paper. In which case, maybe buy a book? It doesn’t have to be this one. Buy a Mark Billingham or a Shari Lapena.

But if you have read the book, then I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have had a blast spending more time with the gang, and I hope you have too. My only job is to try to entertain you, and I really, really want you to have a good time. Even if that ‘good time’ involves crying in public, or missing your stop on the bus.

Thank you also to all the incredible booksellers around the world. I think I have met almost all of you by now, and you are heroes. You are heroes for your love of books, for your skill at recommending the right books to the right people, and for your ability to say, ‘Do you need a bag?’ three hundred times a day while still smiling. I promise I’ll have another book for you to sell this time next year.

I am blessed with the most wonderful team of publishers too. Eternal thanks to my editor Harriet Bourton, at Viking, for her patience, wit and skill, and for being such an absolute pleasure to work with. The ‘sky pool’ mentioned in the book is not only real, but is actually right next to the PRH offices in Battersea.

There are guards at the door of the American Embassy up ahead, and there’s a group of young women going through the revolving doors of a publisher’s building on her left.

In my mind’s eye, that group is my wonderful Viking team of Harriet, Ella Horne, Olivia Mead, Ellie Hudson, Rosie Safaty and Lydia Fried, immortalized in print. Thank you for the incredible work you do: you’re the best team in the business. See how close you got to Joyce and Elizabeth without realizing!

Thank you to the amazing Sam Fanaken, sales guru, for knowing how much I love to see a graph. And thank you to her brilliant team, Rachel Myers, Kyla Dean, Alison Pearce, Eleanor Rhodes Davies, Linda Viberg, Madeleine Bennett and Meredith Benson, and also to Samantha Waide and Grace Dellar.

I am indebted once again to the copy-editing and production genius of Natalie Wall and Annie Underwood. Natalie is the first person ever to succinctly explain to me when I should be using ‘which’ and when I should be using ‘that’. It is a piece of knowledge that I will always remember.

And thank you too for the sterling copy-editing work of Donna Poppy, who not only has an encyclopaedic knowledge of Liverpool footballers, but also knows which Southern trains still have a trolley service. She also wins a prize for being the first person in the acknowledgements to be named after two separate characters from the Thursday Murder Club books.

The iconic front cover remains the work of the incredible Richard Bravery and Joel Holland. Often imitated, never bettered.