First I must thank the two infinitely understanding people—my husband, Peter, and my son, Alexander—who had to live with me while I was writing this book. Their wife/mother went AWOL for almost three years, but they never complained and now she’s back. My daughter, Rebecca, was lucky enough to be living in England at the time. I am also deeply and forever indebted to my dear friend and agent, Irene Skolnick, who had faith in my idea from the day I first described it to her. Irene led me to Knopf where I was fortunate enough to find myself in the company of Sonny Mehta and Shelley Wanger. Need I say more? Well, just a bit. Shelley snipped and trimmed and restrained me from including some of the more exuberant and embarrassing moments in my life, and Sonny liked it enough to publish it. Peter, Rebecca, my brother, Nick, and his girlfriend, Stephanie, my aunt Beegoonie, and my old friend Hylan Booker all read the manuscript and put me right where I’d gone wrong. My godmother, Sue Boothby, Hylan, and Claus von Bülow were all kind enough to lend me letters from my mother and allowed me to quote from them for which I am truly grateful. I would also like to thank my publisher in London, Alexandra Pringle, and my agent, Clare Alexander, for their many helpful suggestions. I promise that I have made nothing up, but I have changed one or two names for reasons you are free to imagine.