One Plus One

By: Jojo Moyes

To Charles


Thank you as ever to my amazing Penguin teams on both sides of the Atlantic. At Penguin UK I am in particular indebted to Louise Moore, Clare Bowron, Francesca Russell, and Elizabeth Smith, as well as Mari Evans and Viviane Basset. In the United States, thank you to Pamela Dorman, Kiki Koroshetz, Louise Braverman, Rebecca Lang, Annie Harris, and Carolyn Coleburn. Thank you, too, to all the lovely media escorts—Cindy Hamel Sellers, Carolyn Kretzer, Debb Flynn Hanrahan, Esther Levine, Larry Lewis, and Mary Gielow—who have spent so much time with me over there this year. In Germany, thank you to Katharina Dornhofer, Marcus Gaertner, and Grusche Junker and all the team at Rowohlt for your wonderful work.

At Curtis Brown, thank you yet again to my indefatigable agent Sheila Crowley, and to Rebecca Ritchie, Katie McGowan, Sophie Harris, Rachel Clements, and Alice Lutyens, as well as Jessica Cooper, Kat Buckle, Sven van Damme, and of course Jonny Geller.

Thank you to Robin Oliver and Jane Foran for advice on insider-trading law. I have had to skew the legal procedure slightly to fit the plot, so any errors or anomalies are entirely my own.

More generally, thank you to Pia Printz, Damian Barr, Alex Heminsley, Polly Samson, David Gilmour, Cathy Runciman, Jess Ruston, and Emma Freud, as well as the gang at Writersblock, for excellent narrative interruptions. Also for excessive levels of help, advice, and general loveliness, Ol Parker and Jonathan Harvey—thank you.

Thanks nearer home to Jackie Tearne, Chris Luckley, Claire Roweth, Vanessa Hollis, and Sue Donovan, without whom I couldn’t have fit in the actual writing.

Thank you to Kieron and Sharon Smith and their daughter Tanzie, after whom the main character in this book was named in appreciation of their generous bid in a charity auction in aid of the Stepping Stones Down Syndrome Support Group.

And thanks to my parents—Jim Moyes, Lizzie and Brian Sanders—and, most important, Charles, Saskia, Harry, and Lockie, for being the point of it all.



Ed Nicholls was in the creatives’ room drinking coffee with Ronan when Sidney walked in. A man he vaguely recognized stood behind him, another of the Suits.

“We’ve been looking for you,” Sidney said.

“Well, you found us,” Ed said.

“Not Ronan, you.”

Ed studied them for a minute, then threw a red foam ball at the ceiling and caught it. He glanced sideways at Ronan. Investacorp had bought half shares in the company a full eighteen months ago, but Ed and Ronan still thought of them as the Suits. It was one of the kinder things they called them in private.

“Do you know a woman called Deanna Lewis?”


“Did you give her any information about the launch of the new software?”


“It’s a simple question.”

Ed looked from one Suit to the other. The atmosphere was strangely charged. His stomach, a packed elevator, began a slow descent toward his feet. “We may have chatted about work. No specifics that I remember.”

“Deanna Lewis?” said Ronan.

“You need to be clear about this, Ed. Did you give her any information about the launch of SFAX?”

“No. Maybe. What is this?”

“The police are downstairs searching your office, with two goons from the Financial Services Authority. Her brother has been arrested for insider trading. On the basis of information that you gave them about the launch of the software.”

“Deanna Lewis? Our Deanna Lewis?” Ronan began to wipe his spectacles, a thing he did when he was feeling anxious.

“Her brother’s hedge fund made two point six million dollars on the first day of trading. She alone cleared a hundred and ninety thousand on her personal account.”

“Her brother’s hedge fund?”

“I don’t understand,” Ronan said.

“I’ll spell it out. Deanna Lewis is on record talking to her brother about the launch of SFAX. She says Ed here said it was going to be enormous. And guess what? Two days later her brother’s fund is among the biggest purchasers of shares. What exactly did you tell her?”

Ronan stared at him. Ed struggled to gather his thoughts. When he swallowed, it was shamefully audible. Across the office the development team was peering over the tops of their cubicles. “I didn’t tell her anything.” He blinked. “I don’t know. I might have said something. It’s not like it was a state secret.”

“It was a fucking state secret, Ed,” Sidney said. “It’s called insider trading. She told him you gave her dates, times. You told her the company was going to make a fortune.”

“Then she’s lying! Shooting her mouth off. We were just . . . having a thing.”

“You wanted to bone the girl, so you shot your mouth off to impress her?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“You had sex with Deanna Lewis?” Ed could feel Ronan’s myopic gaze burning into him.

Sidney lifted his hands. “You need to call your lawyer.”

“How can I be in trouble?” Ed asked. “It’s not like I got any benefit from it. I didn’t even know her brother had a hedge fund.”

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