Part 146 (1/2)

Daddy's little princess. Not a thought for me in all these years.”

”I've thought of you,” Emma murmured.

Jane tapped her fingers against the gla.s.s again. She wanted to get her

stash, take a quick fix, but was afraid if she left the room Emma would

disappear and her chance would be lost. ”He poisoned you against me.”

Self-pitying tears began to fall. ”He wanted you all to himself when I

was the one who went through the misery of childbirth, the misery of

raising a kid on my own. I could've gotten rid of you, you know. Even

then it was simple enough if you knew the right people.”

Emma lifted her eyes then. Dark and intense, they fixed on her mother's

face. ”Why didn't you?”

Jane gripped her hands on the gla.s.s. They were beginning to shake.

She hadn't had a hit in hours and gin was a poor subst.i.tute. But she

was shrewd, too shrewd to admit that she'd been more frightened at the

prospect of a back-alley abortion than of childbirth in a clean hospital

ward.

”I loved him.” And because she believed it, it sounded true. ”I always

loved him. We grew up together, you know. And he loved me, was devoted

to me. If it hadn't been for his music, his stinking career, we would

have been together. But he tossed me aside like it was nothing. He

never cared about anyone or anything but his music. Do you think he

cared about you?” She rose, lumbering a bit under the gin. ”He never

gave a d.a.m.n. It was just his image. Wouldn't want the b.l.o.o.d.y public to

think Brian McAvoy was the kind of man to abandon his own child.”

The old doubts, the old fears sprang up so quickly, she had to force the

words out. ”He loves me. He's done everything for me.”