I’ve been away from these pages too long. I have been hibernating—squirrelling myself away from the world. Much occupied with bread-baking and recipe books, with the garden and the dogs—Moji and Bo—Labrador-kelpie rescues; with my partner, Sarah, and gorgeous children and grandchildren. So not entirely absent. But I’ve neglected you, my small, faithful band of followers, readers, supporters. For which I apologise. With the explanation that I am a slow writer, who burrows into a subject only to come up for air when I have something to show for the burrowing. And I confess that I am rather pleased with what I have, after ten whale-obsessed years, come up with. Due out on 3 August with HarperCollins 4th Estate, my fifth and latest novel, Mr Carver’s Whale, is very close to my heart. I remember when my former partner, the late poet Dorothy Porter, was at something of a loss as to what to write after her groundbreaking novel-in-verse Akhenaten, my advice was to write of what she loved best. The Monkey’s Mask, a brilliant fusion of poetry and detective fiction, was the happy result. In Mr Carver’s Whale, I have followed my own advice. It is full to the brim with all my favourite things: exotic locales, whales, passionate love affairs, mysterious crimes and misdemeanours, and food. Ah, food. I have written an adventure novel, a book of the sea. An enticing conflation, or so I privately like to think, of Hornblower and Jane Austen.  And I look forward to sharing with you over the coming weeks the journey that led me to this happy union. And am very glad to be back.