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"Let's lie down, Emma." Brian kept his voice soothing as he set her on
the bed. "I'll stay right here."
"I'm okay." Her worlds had separated again. She didn't know whether to
feel grief or embarra.s.sment. "I don't know what set that off. Something
just clicked and I was six years old again. I'm sorry, Dad."
"Ssh." He pressed his lips to her temple. "It doesn't matter."
"It was the music," Johnno said, then settled beside her. "The music
upset you."
"Yes." She moistened her dry lips. "Yes, it was the music. It was
playing that night. When I woke up and heard Darren. It was playing
when I started down the hall. I'd forgotten. I've never been able to
listen to that cut, but I didn't know why. Tonight, I guess with the
party, it all rushed back."
"Why don't I start clearing people out?"
"No." She took Johnno's hand before he could rise. "I don't want to
spoil it for Marianne. I'm all right now, really. It was so strange.
Almost as if I were there again. I wonder if I'd gotten to the door, if
I'd have seen-"
"No." Brian's hand clamped down on hers. "It's over and done with.
Behind us. I don't want you to think about it, Emma."
She was too weary to argue. "I think I'll just rest awhile. No one's
going to miss me."
"I'll stay with you," Brian told her.
"No. I'm fine now. I'm just going to sleep. Christmas is only a few
weeks away. I'll come to London, like I promised. We'll have a whole
week."
"I'll stay until you sleep," Brian insisted.
HE WAS GONE WHEN she woke from the nightmare. It had been so real, so
horribly clear. Just as the reality had been over twelve years before.
Her skin was clammy with sweat as she reached for the light. She needed
the light. There was so much that could hide in the dark.
It was quiet now. Five A.m. and calm, quiet. The party was over and
she was alone, behind the gla.s.s walls of her room. Painfully, like an
old woman, she rose out of bed to strip off her clothes and pull on a
robe. She slid the door back, hit another light.
The room was a jumble. There were scents-beer going stale, smoke
trapped near the ceiling, the lingering breath of perfumes and sweat.
She glanced up the stairs to where Marianne slept. She didn't want to
disturb her by tidying up now, though her ingrained neatness rubbed at
her. She would wait until sunrise.
There was something else she had to do, and she wanted to do it quickly
before cowardice could take over. Sitting by the phone, she dialed
information.
"Yes. I'd like the numbers for American, TWA, and Pan Am."
SHE WASN'T GOING to feel guilty. In fact, at the moment, Emma didn't
want to feel much of anything. She knew if her father discovered she'd
flown to California, without her guards, he'd be furious. She could only
hope he didn't find out. With luck, she would have her two days in
California, catch the red-eye Sunday night and be in New York again,
attending cla.s.s, Monday morning, with no one but Marianne the wiser.
