I push through the water, strong arms and breath powering me. I pause, check I’m on track, adjust, then swim again. Once I’m close enough to feel the tug, I give over to the current and it flings me, like a slingshot, towards Beau. When I can, I reach out and grab his arm. He’s scared, panting.

We’re in the slipstream, being pulled out to deep water. But I know what to do, and that I can do it. And that he can, too. I nod to where the current swoops close to the shore. ‘We let the water take us there. Then swim diagonal to the beach.’ I draw a line in the air to show what I mean. ‘Breaking waves go to the sand.’ Entrusting ourselves to the waves. ‘We’ll be okay.’

With his arms tight around me, my eyes fixed on the shore, with full lungs and a strong heart, I swim.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My gratitude and love go to my partner Dave and older son Liam. But I’ve dedicated this book to my younger son, Milo, for bravery, kindness and wisdom in the face of adversity. The human body is both astonishing and ridiculous, and the number of ways it can cause pain seems to be limitless. I’m sorry you’ve had to experience the challenges you have. I’m in awe of you. And I love you.

Thank you to my agent, Jacinta di Mase, for your years of patience in guiding this story to a good home.

Thank you to PEN America for shortlisting an early version of this story for the Bellwether Prize. Your encouragement was life-changing.

Thank you to Canadian novelist Alissa York for sage feedback on the manuscript during my too-brief stay at the Banff Centre for Creativity; and to the talented, thoughtful group of writers I was blessed to meet while there.

Alissa only had time to walk me a certain way down the road. I am grateful (though wish there was a word bigger than this) for the more recent editorial guidance of Penguin Random House publisher Beverley Cousins and editor Tom Langshaw. You each offered advice that has made this story immeasurably better than it was. Thank you for your care and intelligence. And Beverley, thank you for taking a risk on me.

Thank you, Christa Moffitt, for your beautiful cover design. I dip my lid and am grateful.

Thank you to my brother Kevin Alexander, sisters-in-law Wendy Alexander and Kelly King, and nephews Joshua and Eli Alexander. You’ve been so supportive and encouraging. I want this book to succeed mostly so I don’t embarrass you!

Thank you to my Melbourne friends and neighbours for being patient with me. I know how annoying it is that I cancel dates and take forever to reply to messages. You mean the world to me, even though I’m garbage at showing that.

Thank you to the city of Brisbane. Anyone who grew up in Brisbane understands how complicated a relationship with a city can be. I love the place and couldn’t wait to get away from it, and I’m not sure I fully understand either of those responses. The city shaped me. As did the fact I was born in San Francisco but grew up in a harsh tropical Australian city – but that’s another story. Thank you to every person I knew at school, Queensland University, 4ZZZ and beyond. Thank you to Susan Attewell and Tony Moore for being the best housemates and friends through my youth, and the best humans I know. I say with deep respect that my Brisbane friends and family are more resilient, unflappable and astute than people I’ve met anywhere. One of the many things Brisbane taught me is to never judge a place by its elected officials. Sometimes you just don’t have much to choose from.