"Is my mam coming?"

"No."

Her eyes filled, but she picked up her battered black dog and hugged it

close. "Is Charlie?"

"Sure." Brian held out his arms, and lifted her.

"Hope you know what you're doing, son."

Brian sent him a look over Emma's head. "So do I."

Emma Had HER first look at the big stone house from the front seat of

the silver Jag. She was sorry that Johnno, with his funny beard, was

gone, but the man from the pictures let her push b.u.t.tons on the dash. He

wasn't smiling anymore, but he didn't scold. He smelled nice. The car

smelled nice. She pushed Charlie's nose into the seat and babbled to

herself.

The house looked enormous to her with its arching windows and curvy

turrets. It was stone, weathered gray, and all the windows were made up

of diamond shapes. The lawn around it was thick and green, and there

was a scent of flowers. She grinned, bouncing with excitement.

"Castle."

He smiled now. "Yeah, I thought so, too. When I was little I wanted to

live in a house like this. My Dad-your grandda-used to work in the

garden here." When he wasn't pa.s.sed out drunk, Brian added to himself

"Is he here?"

"No, he's in Ireland." In a little cottage Brian had bought with money

Pete had advanced him a year before. He stopped the car at the front

entrance, realizing he would have to make some calls before the story

hit the papers. "You'll meet him someday, and your aunts and uncles,

your cousins." He gathered her up, amazed and baffled at how easily she

cuddled against him. "You have a family now, Emma."

When he walked inside, still carrying her, he heard Bev's light, quick

voice.

"I think the blue, the plain blue. I can't live with all these flowers

growing on the walls. And those beastly hangings have to go. It's like

a cave in here. I want white, white and blue."

He turned into the parlor doorway and saw her sitting on the floor,

dozens of sample books and swatches around her. Part of the wallpaper

had already been stripped, part of the replastering was finished. Bev

preferred tackling a single job from a dozen angles.

She looked so small and sweet sitting amid the rubble. Her dark cap of

hair was cut short and straight to angle down toward her chin. Big gold

hoops glinted at her ears. Her eyes were exotic, both in shape and

color. They were long-lidded with gold lights flecked in pale seagreen.

She was still tanned from the weekend they had spent in the Bahamas. He

knew exactly how her skin would feel, how it would smell.

She had a small triangular-shaped face, and a small angular body. No one

looking at her sitting cross-legged in snug checked pants and a tidy

white shirt would suspect she was two months pregnant.

Brian shifted his daughter in his arms and wondered how his pregnant

lover would react.

"Brian, I didn't hear you." She turned, half rising, then went still.

"Oh." Her color drained as she stared at the child in his arms.