clinches that movie deal, she'll be out of our hair."

"Smarmy little b.i.t.c.h. Did you see that rock she had P.M. spring for?"

Johnno tilted his head and affected an upper-cla.s.s accent. "Too, too

tacky, dearie."

"Draw the claws. As long as P.M."s honkers over her, we're stuck.

And we've more to worry about than our little Angie." He watched Stevie

come back into the hall.

He was spending more and more time in the bathroom, Brian noted. And it

didn't have anything to do with his bladder. Whatever Stevie had jabbed

or swallowed or snorted this time had him flying. He stopped by Emma to

give her a quick swing, then picked up his guitar. As the amp was off,

his frantic rill was soundless.

"Best to wait until he's down to talk to him about it," Johnno

suggested. "If you can catch him when he is." He started to add

something, then decided that Brian had enough on his mind. It would

hardly do any good to tell him what he'd heard before they'd left New

York.

Imagine Jane Palmer writing a book. Of course someone else would do the

work, like putting sentences together. Still, he imagined Jane would

get a princely sum for it. And whatever she said in her little public

diary wasn't likely to please Brian. Best to let Pete handle it, he

decided, and not hit Brian with what was already going on until after

the tour.

Emma paid little attention to the rehearsal when it got back into swing.

She'd heard all the songs before, dozens of times. Most of them were

from the alb.u.m her Dad and the others had made when they'd been in

California before. She'd been allowed to go to the studio a few times.

Once Bev had brought Darren.

She didn't want to think of Darren because it hurt too much. Then she

was struck with a miserable wave of guilt because she tried to block him

out.

She missed Charlie, too. She'd left him behind in London in Darren's

crib. She hoped Bev would take care of him. And maybe one day, when

they went back home, Bev would talk to her again, and laugh, as she once

had.

She didn't understand very much about penance, but she thought leaving

Charlie behind was only right.

Then there was school. She was certain that having to go to that place,

so far away from everyone she loved best, was her punishment for not

taking care of Darren as she'd promised.

She remembered being punished before, the slaps and shouts. It seemed

easier, she thought now, because once the slaps were over, so was the

punishment. There seemed no end to her current banishment.

Dad didn't call it a punishment, she mused. He said she was going to a

good school where she would learn to be smart. Where she would be safe.

There were men there to watch her. Emma hated that. They

were big, silent men with bored eyes. Not like Johnno and the others.

She wanted to go from city to city with them, even if it meant going on

airplanes. She wanted to stay in hotels and bounce on the beds and

order tea from room service. But she was going back to school, back to