Part 264 (2/2)

hallway as a child. Others as an adult. The music always came, but it

was cloudy, as if it played underwater. At times she heard Darren's

voice clear as a bell, but then Drew's would layer over it. She would

freeze, child or woman, in front of the door. Terrified to open it.

Then as her hand closed over the k.n.o.b, turned it, pushed, she would

wake, sweating.

But the days were calm. There was a breeze off the water, the scent of

flowers Bev had planted in tubs and window boxes. And always music.

She'd been given the chance to see her father and Bev start again. That

soothed the most raw of her wounds. There was laughter. Bev

experimenting in the kitchen, Brian in the shade playing guitar. At

night she often lay in bed, thinking of them together. It was as if

they had never been apart. How easy it had been once the step had been

taken, for them to bridge the gap of twenty years.

And she wanted to weep, for she could never be a child again and fix the

mistakes that had been made.

They waited six months, though Emma knew they were both anxious to get

back to, London. That was their home. She had yet to find hers.

She didn't miss New York, though she did miss Marianne. The months she

had lived there with Drew had spoiled the city for her. She would go

back, that she promised herself. But she would never live there again.

She preferred to watch the water, to feel the sun on her face. She'd

been alone in New York. She was rarely alone here.

Johnno had visited twice, staying two weeks each time. For her birthday

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