In at the Death is my fiftieth novel, and actually marks the sixtieth anniversary of my first being published as a short story writer. So many thanks are due.
I would never have started writing had it not been for a grumpy English teacher, who had too much marking to do and told us to write a short story in class time for the Critical Quarterly competition – not that any of us would stand a chance, of course. Piqued, I saw that as a challenge. And won. So thank you, Sir, I suppose.
And then I learned that people can be good to aspiring writers. The first and most momentous was the late Murray Pollinger, who told me that at the age of eighteen I needed an agent. Sadly he had to wait many years to see my first novel published – which I owe to the immense patience of an employee of his who has seen me through my entire career. Thank you, Murray, and thank you, dear kind Sara Menguc, never wavering in your support and trust.
Many women have been vital to my writing: a BBC producer who took an entirely unknown writer’s work for the Morning Story slot; editors of women’s magazines and crime magazines; all the unsung heroes who edit and copy-edit and proof-read and organise publicity. Thank you.
There are heroes too. Martin Edwards especially has been generous in selecting my short stories for various anthologies. John Ure has steadfastly maintained my website. Thank you.
Endless people have been amazingly helpful when I’ve been researching, from police officers to professional cricketers, from members of the clergy to National Trust guides. Thank you all for your patience.
Every writer needs tolerant family members and friends: I am blessed with mine. Fortunately my husband, Edward Marston, knows the problems well. And every writer needs readers. I hope my life’s work has given you the pleasure it has given me.