"Give me a break, Johnno."

"I'd rather see you smash his nose than spend the next months freezing

him out, or working up to killing him in his sleep."

"I've got no problem with P.M.," Brian said carefully. "It's his life."

"And your wife."

Brian shot Johnno a vicious look, but he managed, barely, to contr(YI

the ugly words that sprung to mind. "Bev hasn't been my wife for a long

time."

Johnno glanced over to be certain Emma was still out of earshot. "That

line's all right for anyone else. Not for me, Bri." He put a hand on

Brian's wrist, squeezed, then released. "I know it's going to he hard

for you. I just want to make sure you're ready."

He lifted his gla.s.s, remembered it was empty, and set it down again.

Despite the breeze off the water, he was finding the heat oppressive.

"You can't go back, Johnno. And you can't stand still. So you keep

going forward whether you're ready or not."

"Oh, that was great!" Emma dropped to her knees between her father and

Johnno, her hair streaming. "You should come out."

"In the water?" Johnno said, tilting down his blue-lensed sungla.s.ses.

"Emma, luy, there are things in the water. Slimy things."

Laughing, she leaned over to kiss his cheek, then her father's. She

caught the sharp scent of rum and fought to keep her smile in place.

"Old people sit on the beach," she said lightly. "Middle-aged people

sit on the beach."

"Middle-aged?" Brian caught a Thank of her hair and tugged. "Just wh.o.r.e

you calling middle-aged?"

"Oh, just people who sit on the beach all morning with umbrellas at

their backs." She grinned. "Why don't you two sit right here, rest

yourselves. I'll fetch you a cold drink. And I!il get my camera. I

can take pictures so you can look back and remember your nice, restful

vacation."

"She's got a mouth on her, Bri."

"I've noticed."

"Shall we let her get by with it?"

He glanced at his friend. "Not a chance."

She squealed when they lunged. She could have been quicker, if she'd

wanted to, but put up a good wriggling fight as her father grabbed her

legs and Johnno hooked his hands under her arms.

"Into the brink, I'd say." Johnno tossed back his head so that his hat

landed in the sand. Then keeping pace with Brian raced to the water.

Emma held her breath, and took them under with her.

SHE'D NEVER BEEN H"PIER in her life. It had all been perfect,

completely, wonderfully perfect. Days in the sun, nights listening to

Johnno and her father play. Cheating with Johnno at cards. Walks along

the beach with her father. She had rolls of film to develop, pockets of

memory to store.

So how could she sleep? Emma wondered. It was her last night on

Martinique, her last night with her father. Her last night of freedom.

Tomorrow she would be on a plane, headed back to school, where there

were rules for everything. What time to get up, what time to sleep,