I love writing this part: it’s the bookend to a labor of love, to all the sweat, tears, agonizing over plotlines, sleepless nights and rotten days where the words just won’t cooperate, or fabulous ones when they flow in torrents. This, even while I live in fear I’ll leave someone important out. In case that happens, I’m commencing my acknowledgments with an apology. As I’ve said before, if I have left you out of these pages, you’re not excluded from my heart.
Like all my other novels, this one couldn’t have been written without the support, kindness, generosity, and love of so many people, many of them unaware of how much their encouragement, patience, occasional query about progress, texts, messages, invitations to dinner or drinks, and ability to help me shed my self-doubt mean. Even during the surreal isolation and slow restoration to a new “normal” that’s been the aftermath of Covid-19, people still reached out to me and Stephen, my husband, and I love them for it. Now I’ve the chance to publicly thank you all.
First, I want to thank my wonderful Australian agent, Selwa Anthony, who from the moment I told her I wanted to write a sort of prequel to The Brewer’s Tale/The Lady Brewer of London by writing about the brothel madam, Alyson, was on board. She encouraged me, as she always does, and even though she was going through some very dark times, she always made the effort to call or text and make sure I was creating and not sinking into a Covid-induced isolation inertia (and my heart goes out to all of those who found they did). Thank you, Selwa—you’re my dearest friend as well as agent and I’m blessed you’re in my life.
I also want to thank my US agents, Jim Frenkel and Catie Pfeifer, who, as always, have been as enthusiastic about this book as they have all my others—and during a fraught time for them as they experienced the double-whammy of Covid and the US 2020 election and its unprecedented aftermath in 2021. Thank you so very much, both of you—you are (my) champions! Jim, especially, would often write amazing emails full of information, humor, and blasts of encouragement.
Then, there’s my gorgeous, clever publisher, Jo Mackay from HQ/HarperCollins. What can I say? When she phoned me up after reading an unedited version of this manuscript, bubbling with enthusiasm, laughing at some of my wife’s antics, weeping at others, all the while appreciating and understanding what I was trying to accomplish, as well as entering into deep discussions about Eleanor’s age, the historical context, and the events that occur and how it’s important to be true to the women and the era, it meant the world. She raised my spirits—as you always do, Jo, and I cannot thank you enough for being you and for “getting” this book.
Likewise, my wonderful editor, Linda Funnell. Linda knows my work so well by now and what I’m seeking to say—not always successfully. Whether it’s a word, a phrase, or a (contentious) plot point, Linda always knows how to put it the way I meant, to iron out the creases. She sees the holes that need filling and altogether makes my work so much smoother and thus better. I love working with you, I appreciate everything you do so much (and don’t tell you enough), and thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Same to the joyous and talented Annabel Blay, my other editor who oversees everything and allays my fears, doubts, and anxieties (there were quite a few with this book!) and is so damn sensible, wise, and kind and just amazing. Thank you.
To the rest of the team at HQ/HarperCollins—especially Natika Palka, Eloise Plant, Jo Munroe, and Rejinder Sidhu—thank you. I also want to say a very special thank-you to the incredibly talented Michaela Alcaino for the absolutely gorgeous cover. The first time I saw it, I was utterly speechless. I could not have imagined a more perfect jacket for Eleanor/Alyson’s story. I reckon even Chaucer would be delighted.
To my publishers in the US, UK, and Canada, William Morrow, especially, Rachel Kahan and the wonderful team in editing, design, and marketing, thank you for your faith in me and my work and for giving it such a great home.
Then there’s my most cherished of friends, Kerry Doyle. When Kerry, her husband Peter Goddard, my husband Stephen, and I all traveled to the UK together in 2017, I dragged them to Bath. We’d just spent time in London and though Bath wasn’t strictly where they wanted to go, they came anyway. I’d been there before back in 2014, but wanted to shore up a sense of the place where my Eleanor and Alyson would one day preside. Fortunately, they loved it as much as I did. While traces of medieval Bath are hard to find, they are there, but it was the overall ambience and magnificence of the place (that, and some great food and drinks in The Raven, which appears in the novel as The Corbie’s Feet) that kept us content and in awe. Always tolerant and supportive of my digressions in order to research, there’s no one I’d rather travel with than these fabulous, funny, clever, easy-to-get-along-with best buddies. Thank you.
Kerry is also one of my beta-readers. I’ve said this before, but I really mean it—it takes a very special person to be willing to undertake such a role. To read a work-in-progress and give feedback honestly to an (over)sensitive writer is a huge ask. Kerry is an experienced reader and a discerning one—we share our reading tastes and exchange books all the time, often sharing the same views about them. Yet, when it comes to my work, I trust her to be both brutally frank and kind when she reads. She is all that and so much more, which is a testimony to the wonderful woman she is and our longstanding friendship, which I value more than words can ever say. Thank you, Kerry, my lovely, my soul-sister.
Thanks to you too, Peter, for your love, friendship, and support and for being so much a part of this tale and the ones we’re still creating together!
Thanks too, to my Hobart friends—you are always so supportive and interested in my work, even if it’s feigned, and I love you for that too. Whether it’s Stephen Bender, who, while he was stuck in Tassie during lockdown, became even more a part of our family than ever, and saw me having literary (as opposed to literal) meltdowns over the direction the book was taking and still loves me! Thanks too, to our beautiful neighbors, Bill, Lyn, and Jack Lark, for the many conversations, laughs, drinks, meals, and so much more. Also, thanks to Mark Nicholson and Robin Mclean for your unerring support. Then, there’s someone else I share my love of reading with (and exchange “must reads”), the incomparable Luci (Lucinda) Wilkins and her gorgeous partner, Simon Thomson—thanks to both of you for the food, drinks, chats, laughs, and all else that comes with a great friendship—oh, and the puppy pics! Thanks too to Clinton and Rosie Steele, who always remember to ask what I’m writing and, when it’s published, to read it too.
To the lovely Robbie (the Glaswegian Taswegian) and his beautiful wife and my friend, Emma Gilligan, and wee Harvey, thank you.
To my most special friends, with whom I share political diatribes (there were a few of those over the last couple of years, let me tell you), joy in images, poems, films, and books as well as celebrating each other’s triumphs and mourning the setbacks, Professor Jim McKay, Dr. Helen Johnston, Dr. Liz Ferrier, Professor David Rowe, Professor Malcolm McLean, Professor Mike Emmison, Dr. Janine Mikosa (a superbly talented writer), and Linda Martello, thank you.
I also wish to thank (though they might not know it, they have been a great support and presence), Catherine Miller (my oldest buddy—as in, we’ve known each other since we were eleven and twelve), Dr. Frances Thiele, Grant Searle, Fletcher Austin, Dr. Lisa Hill, Sheryl Gwyther, Dannielle Miller, Mark Woodland, Mimi McIntyre, Gav Jaeger, and Jason Greatbatch (who also kept me so entertained with their stories, beautiful pics, and wonderful company—and their furbies), Mick and Katri DuBois, Trevor Dale and Jeff Francombe, Professor Kim Wilkins, and my lovely stepmum, Moira Adams.
I also want to give a special—thanks is not the right word—acknowledgment to my brother, Peter Adams, who at the time of writing is still with us but, sadly, not for much longer. It’s been a rocky road, an incredibly bumpy one for him and those who care about him. Sorry, for this, I just don’t have the words.
I also want to thank the IASH at the University of Queensland where I am an honorary senior research consultant.
Thanks also to the talented Tony Mak and Sharn Hitchins for their wonderful music and friendship over the years and who, when they play at the brewstillery, give us and others such joy.
I also really want to thank my readers. Where would I be without you? I am so grateful to you for the shout-outs, reviews, the contact, and for picking up my books and telling others about them. Same with the booksellers and librarians, the custodians of stories—the matchmakers of the imagination—the gatekeepers of culture—thank you, each and every one of you wherever you are in this crazy, magnificent world.
Thank you as well to my gorgeous Facebook friends on my author page and on Goodreads, Twitter, and Instagram, as well as the podcasters and Facebook reading groups who also support books and writers, engage with us, review our works, discuss them passionately, and keep us motivated and feeling appreciated—you’re beyond simply terrific.
Also, a huge thanks to the friends of Captain Bligh’s Brewery and Distillery—Brewstillery now! Every time I see you, whether it’s at our monthly bar nights or the markets or around town, you support what it is Stephen and I (and Adam) do—whether it be with beer, spirits, or books. Thank you so much. We love you guys.
I also want to thank my much-missed inspiration and cherished friend, Sara Douglass.
Now it’s time for my last thanks—my family. Starting with my remarkable sister, Jenny Farrell, a nurse and my brother’s main guardian. In a year that has tossed up more challenges than we ever anticipated, she’s been a tower of strength, kindness, and the backbone of our family as we struggled with my brother’s terminal cancer diagnosis and the aftermath of that. Even so, she has never relaxed her unerring support of me, her unshakeable belief in what I do. I love you, Jenny—and that lovely husband of yours, my dear brother-in-law, John Farrell.
To my furbies—my canine muses and beloved companions, Tallow, Dante, and Bounty—who sit with me day in and out as I write, act out scenes and accents (as their little heads twist one way then the other, reducing me to gales of laughter), I am so blessed you chose me as one of your humans. We’re growing old together, but at least it’s together. I so wish they could read this!
To my beautiful very adult children, Adam and Caragh—both incredible creators in their own unique ways—one with spirits, the other with words, computer code, and amazing artworks and ideas. They make me laugh, cry, frustrated, proud, cranky, and joyous and remind me every day that real life can be both as challenging and as crazily astonishing as the fictional ones I write. I love you both very much.
Finally, I have to thank my beloved husband, my partner in everything. Last year, for a few hours, I thought I was going to lose him. I cannot begin to tell you how that felt. Except, at some point in the long journey to be by his side where he was in a remote emergency room, it occurred to me that there was nothing I needed to say to him; I’d no regrets or things I wish we’d said or done—apart or together. How lucky am I? To have that realization that I shared my life with the right person, the only person I wanted to be with, was very powerful. As I traveled, I’d time to reflect on our life and partnership. There’s been good and dreadful times, moments of unbelievable sorrow, yet also deep and joyous love, which always ends with gratitude for what we have. We often marvel. For me, I now marvel that I still have him. In terms of my professional life, he’s always supported me—critiqued, read, been a wonderful sounding board. He loved Alyson from the moment I brought her voice to life and every step of the way since. If only she’d had a husband like him, then her life may have turned out very differently, even back then. But he’s here, in this time, and he’s my partner in everything and for that I’m beyond fortunate and beyond grateful. It’s good to be his wife.