Now There’s An Idea By Kerry Swaye

With ‘The School Gate Survival Guide’, I’d heard a story about a cleaner who received a big inheritance from a lady she cleaned for. Added to that, my kids were at primary school and I’d become fascinated by all the little ways people jostle for social superiority. I decided to weave those strands of thought together, which still felt like a struggle but, with hindsight, was a handcrafted, beribboned box of truffles delivered to my door.

When it came to ‘The Island Escape’, my friends and I were at a stage where the hard graft of young children had faded, our kids were at school and we had time – without anyone sticking a piece of Lego up their nose, tantrumming over a vital piece of Polly Pocket or spilling orange juice into the computer – to think about what would happen next. Some women went back to work or sought more demanding jobs. Some bought dogs. Some got divorced. It was the latter that started me thinking about how friendships change when couples separate. Initially, everyone feels sorry for the person splitting up. But later on, when the newly single woman was swanning off for romantic weekends with a new boyfriend, I noted a bit of envy creeping in. I also had a sense that many women were taking stock, asking themselves – ‘How did the person I was at twenty become me?’ The idea of ‘Can one woman’s marriage survive her best friend’s divorce?’ slowly emerged.

So far, so good. Two ideas had arrived, sliding about on a silver platter.

By this point, I had a publishing deal, which didn’t seem like the perfect time to declare myself a two-idea wonder. I thought about how I’d found inspiration before – by observing other people – and decided socialising was the answer. Thankfully, a bonafide reason to meet up with friends was infinitely easier than realising I needed to take up potholing or researching Victorian poets. I write contemporary women’s fiction, so while I was dog walking, having coffee, going to quiz nights, dinner parties, even parents’ evenings, my little brain was sifting through conversations for the elusive plot nugget. I just hoped I’d eventually hear something that would scratch away, yearning to play out its own story. In the meantime, I absorbed details to use for characters. A mother who never lets her child answer for herself. A woman who defaults to ‘I don’t mind’ in every circumstance. A wife who never relaxes when her husband is talking to another woman.

Finally, dog walking one day, I bumped into an old friend, who tossed me a gorgeous, glittering throwaway line about an embarrassing incident – ‘I wouldn’t have recovered from that. I’d have moved away.’ And a new idea was born…