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clinches that movie deal, she'll be out of our hair."
"Smarmy little b.i.t.c.h. Did you see that rock she had P.M. spring for?"
Johnno tilted his head and affected an upper-cla.s.s accent. "Too, too
tacky, dearie."
"Draw the claws. As long as P.M."s honkers over her, we're stuck.
And we've more to worry about than our little Angie." He watched Stevie
come back into the hall.
He was spending more and more time in the bathroom, Brian noted. And it
didn't have anything to do with his bladder. Whatever Stevie had jabbed
or swallowed or snorted this time had him flying. He stopped by Emma to
give her a quick swing, then picked up his guitar. As the amp was off,
his frantic rill was soundless.
"Best to wait until he's down to talk to him about it," Johnno
suggested. "If you can catch him when he is." He started to add
something, then decided that Brian had enough on his mind. It would
hardly do any good to tell him what he'd heard before they'd left New
York.
Imagine Jane Palmer writing a book. Of course someone else would do the
work, like putting sentences together. Still, he imagined Jane would
get a princely sum for it. And whatever she said in her little public
diary wasn't likely to please Brian. Best to let Pete handle it, he
decided, and not hit Brian with what was already going on until after
the tour.
Emma paid little attention to the rehearsal when it got back into swing.
She'd heard all the songs before, dozens of times. Most of them were
from the alb.u.m her Dad and the others had made when they'd been in
California before. She'd been allowed to go to the studio a few times.
Once Bev had brought Darren.
She didn't want to think of Darren because it hurt too much. Then she
was struck with a miserable wave of guilt because she tried to block him
out.
She missed Charlie, too. She'd left him behind in London in Darren's
crib. She hoped Bev would take care of him. And maybe one day, when
they went back home, Bev would talk to her again, and laugh, as she once
had.
She didn't understand very much about penance, but she thought leaving
Charlie behind was only right.
Then there was school. She was certain that having to go to that place,
so far away from everyone she loved best, was her punishment for not
taking care of Darren as she'd promised.
She remembered being punished before, the slaps and shouts. It seemed
easier, she thought now, because once the slaps were over, so was the
punishment. There seemed no end to her current banishment.
Dad didn't call it a punishment, she mused. He said she was going to a
good school where she would learn to be smart. Where she would be safe.
There were men there to watch her. Emma hated that. They
were big, silent men with bored eyes. Not like Johnno and the others.
She wanted to go from city to city with them, even if it meant going on
airplanes. She wanted to stay in hotels and bounce on the beds and
order tea from room service. But she was going back to school, back to