My beloved lurcher, Lupe, who keeps me fit and makes me laugh,
has been immortalized in watercolour. Mark Upton has just finished
this adorable portrait for us and, contrary to Mr B's caustic
comments, it isn't remotely flattering; she really is the most
noble, poised and elegant of dogs.
I've immortalized a mate or two myself these last few years. As
I've said before, I'm shamelessly lazy when it comes to fleshing
out my minor characters. I just think - right, who lives down the
road?
So, NOW YOU SEE ME opens with my close friend Geraldine
being viciously murdered in a Ripper-style slaying. Blood pours
from savage abdominal wounds but her hair looks good and her
diamond earrings sparkle sweetly in the lamplight. Dana Tulloch
(jointly inspired by Heather and Nina) makes a welcome return and
the BBC Radio Oxford presenter who once told me, on air, that she'd
be honoured should I ever name a corpse after her, might be careful
what she wishes for in future.
My new leading man, Mark Joesbury, whom She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed
calls the sexiest fictional man in crime, is a real Heinz 57 of a
bloke.
His conception dates back to a hot June day two years ago, at a
riverside restaurant, when I had the honour and excitement of
meeting a real-life officer from SO10, the branch of the Met that
handles covert operations. It had been drilled into me previously
that officers from SO10 do not, ever, discuss their work with
civilians, that even this bloke's neighbours don't know what he
does for a living and that I was banned, on pain of death, from
ever publicly mentioning his real name.
I agreed. I was getting a bit scared by this stage.
Officer X sat across the table from me: muscular, sun-tanned,
dark-haired and macho. He wore Joesbury's trademark pale-grey polo
shirt and jeans, and mirrored sunglasses that he never removed.
(Joesbury's bright turquoise eyes are pure imagination on my
part)
He told me stories that were hilarious and others that were
downright terrifying. He made me think hard about what sort of
person can give two or three years of his life to infiltrate and
ultimately bring down a criminal gang; who could deal with the
loneliness, fear and frustration, not to mention the guilt,
ultimately, of arresting people who must have become friends. It
would take an exceptional sort of person, I realized, to work in
this branch of policing. It could also make for an exceptional
fictional character.
After my meeting with Officer X, Joesbury was starting to take
shape nicely, but I wanted him to have a softer, more charismatic
side. Step forward my son's football coach, who charms everyone
from eight year old boys on the pitch to 40- something mums on the
touchline and keeps us loyal to the team through the filthiest
weather.
Officer X's steely toughness and the coach's charm were working
well together. Increasingly, though, as I worked my way through the
first draft, Joesbury began absorbing my ex Flying Squad friend's
sense of humour and fun. And on top of all this, as the best
characters so often do, he was taking on a life of his own and
becoming his own man. He showed himself capable, very early on, of
falling deeply and stupidly in love.
I can't wait to find out what readers think of Joesbury. In the
meantime, here is a little taster of the first time he and heroine
Lacey Flint meet:
'How did he know I'm police?' I asked, picking up my fork and
pushing a prawn around in a circle.
'You're wearing an orange Andy Pandy suit with Property of the
Metropolitan Police on the collar,' said Joesbury, without looking
up.
'I could be a villain,' I said, putting the prawn in my mouth.
It sat there, large and uncomfortably dry on my tongue.
'Yeah,' said Joesbury, putting his fork down and lifting his
eyes. 'The thought had crossed my mind.'