Pretending to doze, I watched the crafty creature check me out again. Satisfied I was unconscious, he sprang off his lounger, gave himself a congratulatory shake and trotted stealthily away. My heart sank as his tail disappeared around the side of the house.
Sighing at the thought of another neighbourhood gadabout, I rolled off the lounger and plodded after him. That cat couldn’t be trusted.
As I rounded the corner, he was pattering past the wheelie bins. Too far away for me to catch, even if I broke into a sprint.
‘Jonah!’ I whined. “Come back.”
The cat stopped in his tracks, turned his handsome face to me and blinked.
‘It would be nice if you stayed home,’ I said.
The feline hesitated. I waited for him to bolt. But, to my astonishment, he lay down on the path, rolled on his back and put his feet in the air as if to say, ‘You might as well come and get me.’
Bundling him into my arms, I kissed his furry forehead. In return he honoured me with a good-natured purr. He’d enjoyed the joke.
Cats and daughters. Let them roam a little.
But keep an eye on them.
Acknowledgements
Becoming an international author has brought some amazing women and men into my life. I’ll always be grateful to Louise Thurtell at Allen & Unwin for her incredibly generous support. A passionate publisher, Louise is an author’s dream. She has also become a fantastic friend and mentor.
Heartfelt thanks to Jude McGee, along with Wenona Byrne and her rights team at A&U for taking Cleo to the world.
And to Lisa Highton at Two Roads, UK, for her kindness and unflinching good taste. And Martina Schmidt of Deuticke, Austria, for transforming Cleo into an elegant German speaking cat.
I’ve often wondered why authors thank their agents. Since the divine Elizabeth Sheinkman of Curtis Brown took me on I’ve found out. She’s a great visionary and cheerleader, not to mention an incredibly glamorous woman.
Robert Dark, computer nerd and father of five, helped me understand how powerful a website can be.
I was honoured when Julie Wentworth, the world’s best yoga teacher, offered Friday afternoon yoga sessions in her flat while I was working on this book. She is tonic to the soul.
Gratitude, too, for regular massages from Bronwyn Quigley and workouts with Stephen Holden. Without their help keeping my body in order during the long writing months I’d have fallen apart.
The friendship of Douglas Drury, Deirdre Coleman, Liz Parker, Sarah Wood, Geoff Clifford and Sue Peden, Rocky and Jeanie Douche, Heather Leviston, Roderick and Gillian Deane, Mano and Heather Thevathasan, James Fisher, Kim Paleg and others is beyond price.
Heartfelt gratitude to the medics who guided me through breast cancer. Scribbling a book or two is nothing compared to the work they do saving lives.
Thanks, too, to my brother Jim Blackman and his partner Aaron Beckett.
And to Bronte and Stevan at Spoonful, for providing coffee jet fuel for the writer’s soul.
Some fans have stayed with me through the years, providing beacons of confidence in my ability when it’s wavered. Maureen Riesterer, Mary Stanley-Shepherd and Jim Chalmers of Christchurch, Faye Ketu of Ekatahuna, Iskra Lewis and many others. You know who you are.
It’s impossible to express sufficient gratitude to those who agreed to appear in this book under their real names. Vivienne Smith, animal behaviouralist extraordinaire, helped us see our wayward cat through fresh eyes.
My sister Mary Dryden deserves special mention. Not only did she bring Jonah into our lives, she brought her light into our house when it was needed.
People sometimes ask how my family feel being the subject of my writing. All I know is they’re incredibly tolerant and big hearted. Philip, Katharine, Rob, Chantelle and baby Annie – you are jewels in my casket.
Deepest thanks of all to Lydia for so generously agreeing to be central to this story. No doubt you’d tell it differently from your perspective. Perhaps some day you will. In the meantime, I hope you appreciate this book for what it is … a kind of love story.
And Jonah, if you’re reading this, that goes for you, too.