Filled with a sense of disbelief at how spectacularly wrong it has all gone, I turn around and walk out of the hospital. I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears from my cheeks.

I should have practiced what I was going to say. I said all the wrong things. Why did I ever think there was even the slightest chance that I could appeal to her sense of pity? I stand at the top of the stone stairs and I see Brian standing next to the car staring at me. For a moment my head swims and my knees buckle. I look around for the railing to steady myself against, but it seems very far away so I sink down on the steps. Just in time. My head is feather-light. Brian comes running up to me.

‘Are you all right?’

‘This can’t be real,’ I whisper.

I see a flash of pity in his eyes. If only hers had flashed so. I watch him struggle to find the right words to say.

‘Let me help you to the car, Mrs. Barrington?’

I shake my head. ‘Can you get my husband on the phone for me?’

He takes his mobile out of his pocket and dials Blake. ‘Your wife wants a word,’ he says quietly and passes it to me.

‘Blake,’ I say and then all the words I wanted to say are suddenly ash in my mouth and I begin to weep uncontrollably. Gently, Brian pries the phone from my hand and speaks into it.

‘She’s just…upset.’

Even though I am sobbing loudly, some part of me understands that Blake must have asked where we were because Brian says, ‘Outside the hospital. She met Victoria and returned her money.’ He pauses to listen then he says, ‘Of course, I’ll take her home right now.’

He helps me to the car. On the way we pass Kensington, and that church where I went and sensed my mother’s presence. And again at an odd hour its door is open. It is almost like it is open for me.

‘Stop the car,’ I cry urgently.

Brian looks me, but he doesn’t immediately stop the car.

‘I need to go to that church,’ I explain desperately.

‘OK,’ he agrees, and turns the car around at the next opportunity. He stops the car, and as I go to get out, he says, ‘I’m coming in with you.’

We go into the church together and he loiters by the inside of the entrance.

There is a woman, dressed all in black. She is deep in prayer and does not look up at the sound of my entrance. I walk to the front and sit on a pew. Bowing my head I get on my knees and I pray. He must hear my prayer.

‘Oh Lord,’ I whisper fervently. ‘Help me, please. Help me. Bring my baby back to me. We made a deal. You were supposed to take care of him and I was supposed to do everything I could to help the children of the world. I have kept my word and already started my charity.’ But a small voice inside my head says, Yeah, you made little baby steps, but you haven’t really poured yourself into it, have you?

Brian comes to me. ‘We must go.’

I stand and follow him. And then an odd thing happens. The sun must have burst through a cloud outside, for sunlight suddenly pours through the stained window and throws colored light on the floor in front of us. It is in the image of the Madonna and child. I stop and look at the beautiful image.

I look up at Brian, my face awed, as if I have just witnessed a miracle. Indeed it seems that way to me. ‘Do you think it means something?’

Brian is careful. ‘Maybe.’

‘It’s the image of the Madonna and child.’

He nods. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

Eighteen

Blake Law Barrington

Twenty minutes after Brian lets me know that he has dropped Lana off at the house I walk through our door. I feel like I am a stringed instrument that has been tuned too tight. Any moment something could snap my control of the situation. I stand at the entrance to the living room and look at her. She is hunched and staring at a spot on the floor. She seems so small and defeated. My heart bleeds to see her so. As if sensing my presence she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are cloudy and wet. I stride across the room and envelop her in a tight hug.

‘Don’t ever put yourself in harm’s way again,’ I whisper, caressing her cheek with my thumb.

‘I wasn’t ever in danger.’ Her voice is sepulchral.

‘You don’t know what she is capable of.’

She starts suddenly, her body tense. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.

‘What is she capable of?’ she asks, hoarse with fear.

‘She won’t hurt Sorab. He is her bargaining chip.’

She sags with relief. She’s falling apart in front of me and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going?’

‘Because you would have said no.’

‘Damn right I wouldn’t have let you go.’

‘I’m sorry. I screwed up.’

‘Don’t be sorry. You didn’t screw up. Tell me everything she said and did. It could be important.’

So we sit beside each other and she tells me everything calmly and clearly while I listen intently. When she is finished I am so furious I want to kill that mad bitch. I try my best not to show the fury.

She searches my face. ‘You were right. I shouldn’t have gone. Or at least I should have had a plan. I’m afraid all I’ve succeeded in doing is saying all the wrong things and cementing her hatred.’

I totally agree. I wish she hadn’t gone, but I try to sound warm and reassuring. ‘It doesn’t matter. Nothing you have said or done has changed the outcome one bit. She has a plan. Humiliating you was only one small aspect.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘She wants to see me tomorrow at ten a.m.’

Her eyes become enormous. ‘When did she contact you?’

‘She called right after you left her. So you see it was all planned. First humiliate you and then call me to the negotiating table.’

‘What does she want? You?’

I curl my arm around her possessively. ‘No. Not me. That would be too easy. She knows I don’t give a damn about her. She wants revenge. I just don’t know what that entails. Yet.’

Twenty

Blake Law Barrington

I walk into the red brick building and suddenly I am in a different world. I pause for a moment at the entrance. The air is cool and filled with an air of slow dreaminess, as if this place is a retreat from the dangerously busy world outside. The air of lethargy pervades the staff. They talk to me slowly and clearly—all their movements are calm and deliberate.

One of the reception staff shows me into a private room. There is a window with floral curtains, and a few low, blue-gray padded seats. A plastic coffee table with a few outdated, well-thumbed magazines.

‘Someone will bring her down shortly,’ she says quietly, and closes the door quietly. I walk to the window and look out. My mind is reeling. I realize I am nervous. So much is at stake. I think of how fragile Lana looked this morning when I touched her cheekbone. ‘Don’t think about me,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘Only him.’

‘Hello, Blake.’

I whirl around. I was so lost in my own thoughts I did not hear her enter. For a moment I am surprised. My last memory of her is of her being held by Brian and another man while she clawed and screamed bloody murder. Now she stands before me, calm and present in a way I had not imagined. I had expected wild-eyed passion, a burning desire for revenge. Not this angel of mercy act.

‘Hello, Victoria.’

She comes farther into the room and takes a seat. She is wearing a dress, blue with polka dots. It doesn’t suit her. The dress rides up her thighs and she pulls it down demurely. She does not cross her legs, but sits with her knees close together. I’ll admit she has me confused.

She looks up at me. There is amusement in her eyes. My God, she has taken the upper hand. I am filled with the ugly sensation that I am about to get my first lesson on how wrong I have been about Victoria. I walk to the seat next to hers. She watches me carefully. I spread myself out, lean back, rest my hands on my thighs, and fix her with an even look. I don’t know if she buys my relaxed pose. I am not relaxed. I am so furious I want to punch her smiling face.