Part 31 (1/2)

cheap.

He'd have paid twice as much, she thought as she nursed her gin. More

than twice, no matter how much the b.a.s.t.a.r.d Pete had frowned and

muttered. Brian had wanted Emma. He had a soft spot for children.

She'd known it, but, she thought in disgust, hadn't been clever enough

to exploit it.

A lousy twenty-five thousand a year. How was she supposed to live on

that, she wondered.

A little bleary with gin, she rolled a sloppy joint.

She still took in a john now and then, but that was as much for the

company as the extra cash. She'd had no idea she would miss Emma. As

the weeks pa.s.sed the concept of motherhood took on new, emotional

meanings.

She'd given birth. She'd changed nasty nappies. She'd spent her

hard-earned money on food and clothes. Now the little brat probably

didn't remember she existed.

She'd hire a solicitor. She'd hire the best with Brian's money. There

was justice in that. There wasn't a court in the country that wouldn't

see that a child belonged with her mother. She'd get Emma back. Or

better, she'd get twice as much money.

Once she'd bled them a bit, Brian and his snotty new wife wouldn't

forget her. No one would forget her, not the stinking press, not the

stupid public, or her own little brat.

With this thought dangling in her mind, she brought out her cache of

Methedrine and prepared to go flying.

EMmA COULDN'T wait much longer. There was a nasty sleet falling