"Bollocks," Sophie replied, and not only because she genuinely doubted that Eve was ever a tiny girl; it seemed more likely she was hatched fully grown from some giant genetically modified egg.

"Well, maybe, but I'm here now, and it's every man for herself, if you know what I mean." Without explanation, Eve took a plastic bag out of her desk drawer, and standing on her chair, she reached up and secured it over the smoke alarm with a rubber band. Sitting back down, she chucked Sophie a much longed for cigarette, which Sophie had to force herself not to scrabble for. After lighting up, Eve paused for a tortuous moment before throwing Sophie her lighter too.

Sophie took her first drag happily, and in that moment of deep satisfaction, she considered Eve, who had tipped her head back and was blowing smoke rings ceilingward.

After a few more puffs, Eve looked Sophie in the eye and sighed. "I'm sorry, really," she said. "Okay?"

Sophie watched Eve through the haze of smoke. "I doubt it," she said mildly. "But just don't think I'm a pushover, okay?"

Eve considered. "Okay," she said, sounding unconvinced. "You know it's nothing personal, don't you? I just get carried away a bit with the whole competition thing. I suppose I'd be quite annoyed if I had to sack you one day. Because, you know, you make me look really good."

Sophie examined her. It was very hard to tell when Eve was joking, largely because with Eve there was a very blurred line between humor and general savagery. "Well, you're on your own for the foreseeable future at least," Sophie said, instantly regretting letting that piece of information slip. "God only knows when I'll spend any decent time in the office again."

"I thought they were going back next week," Eve said with interest. "If I knew you were going to be out longer, I'd have waited for a decent period before raiding your office."

Sophie pursed her lips. Before she could say anything else, Eve's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID unit.

"Gillian," she told Sophie, picking it up while simultaneously opening the window behind her.

"Hi, Gillian, what can I do for you?" she said, hooking the receiver under her ear and attempting to wave the smoke out of the window as she spoke, as if Gillian would be able to smell her cigarette down the phone line. "Yep, yep, okay, I'll tell her. Yep, right now."

Eve hung up the phone. "Oh dear," she said with a tiny, sharp-toothed smile.

"Oh dear what?" Sophie said, handing the butt of her cigarette to Eve, who threw it out the window.

"The little cherubs. It looks like they got out and went exploring."

Sophie leaped out of her seat. "Fuck, fuck! What did they do-what did they wreck?" She braced herself.

"Nothing, they just went for a little wander and made a new friend-" Eve savored the moment. "They're in Gillian's office right now. She'd like you to go over. Straightaway please."

But Sophie had already left.

"And then after Neighbours again, we watched the news, and then we watched Bargain Hunt again, and then we watch Eastenders, and then we watch-"

"Bella! Izzy!" Sophie forced a laugh. "I thought you were drawing me a lovely picture!"

"We finished," Bella said, holding up a sheet of paper covered in mermaids. "We came to show you, but we couldn't find you. So we showed this lady, who is very nice and gave us a biscuit. We told her we don't eat fruit in case it makes us poo."

Gillian smiled at Sophie, and Sophie smiled back at her, trying desperately to work out if it was a genuine happy smile or an I'm-about-to-rip-your-head-off smile. It was quite hard to tell with Gillian until right at the last moment.

"Sit," Gillian said. Sophie sat. "What lovely girls your godchildren are! Izzy was telling me all about the fun she's been having at your house, including being flushed down the toilet?" Gillian raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, well..." Sophie hastily began to explain, but Gillian laughed. Sophie laughed too, slightly hysterically. So did Izzy. Bella stared at all three of them, her mouth as straight as a poker.

"Oh, they are so funny at that age, aren't they-a pure joy from the moment they wake up to the moment they go to bed." Sophie nodded in agreement. She supposed, if you had a nanny and didn't see them for eight hours of the day that they were being "pure joy," that might be true.

"Oh yes," she said. "Joy. Absolutely. Pure."

"You should have said you were bringing them in. If you'd have rung me, I'd have told you not to bother. There's no need for you to come in. Lisa's been doing very well with Cal's help, and Eve's been keeping an eye on her."

"Ah yes, but-"

"So, how have you been coping?" Gillian asked, fixing her with her almost unbearably penetrating gaze.

Sophie struggled to maintain eye contact, a little uncertain of how to respond because Gillian had never asked that question before. Sophie always coped. No, that was wrong. Sophie had never "coped" before because she hadn't had to-she had never struggled with any challenge until now, and "coping" had never been a requirement. Was she supposed to tell Gillian that everything was just fine, or was she supposed to confess that she was finding everything a bit difficult? Which response would make her look better, and which answer would make her more promotable?

"Um," Sophie said.

"Oh, I know," Gillian said, treating her to a conspiratorial little smile that Sophie had never seen before and found slightly unnerving. "It's such a shock, isn't it?" she confided. "Children just change your world completely. And I planned for my two darlings-but I wasn't prepared for them in the least!" Gillian leaned forward a little in her chair. "And you know, I think it's harder when you have them a little later in life, don't you? When you've been used to being your own person for so long and suddenly there's this little being that's...that's..." Gillian clicked her fingers as she searched for the word she wanted.

"Like a bloodsucking little leech?" Sophie offered.

Gillian's smile faded momentarily before she decided that Sophie must be joking and her rarely heard laugh chimed like broken glass. Sophie laughed too, even though she had missed the punch line.

"I was going to say, this little being is totally dependent on you for life," Gillian finished. "But you're really showing guts here, Sophie. I applaud you."

Sophie felt herself straighten in her chair. "Thank you," she said, glancing at Izzy, who was sorting through the contents of Gillian's waste bin, and at Bella, who was listening intently. "They are good kids, bless 'em," Sophie said. Bella probably raised an eyebrow at her, but Sophie couldn't be sure because of the thickness of her bangs. "It's just a case of getting everything settled." Sophie smiled at Gillian, who nodded sympathetically.

"It must be even harder for you, of course, because you didn't plan it. For you it's like they've just fallen out of the sky." Sophie realized that actually that was exactly how it felt, and suddenly, looking into Gillian's kind face, she felt the threat of tears build up behind her eyes. But she couldn't cry, because Gillian would think she was crying for Carrie or the children, and she wouldn't be. She would be crying guilty tears of self-pity.

"Yes," Sophie said, making her voice stay steady. "It does feel a bit like that."

Gillian laced her fingers on the desk and gazed at them for a moment. "Look, Sophie, I think you and I know each other very well by now, don't you?" Sophie nodded. "I know that you're not the sort of person to ask for help. In fact, I know that you're not the sort of person who usually needs any help. But I want to know how you think this will all pan out. Do you think you can keep up your job to sufficient standards in the midst of this upheaval?"

Sophie began nodding even before Gillian had finished asking the question. "I can, of course I can," she said, gesturing at the children. "This is just temporary. Really. Work comes first for me, Gillian. You know how many years I've put into McCarthy Hughes. I've always been loyal. I won't stop now." Sophie found she was leaning forward in her urge to impress her intentions on her boss.

Gillian observed her for a moment longer. "The minute you think you're not handling this. The minute it all gets too much, I need to know, do you understand?" she said.

"Yes," Sophie said, feeling the kind of anxiety in the pit of her stomach she hadn't experienced since the first three times she failed her driving test.

"You know I really feel for you, don't you?" Gillian said, a hard edge glinting under her compassionate tone. "But this is a very important time for McCarthy Hughes. Up until this point, you've been integral to our success. Don't think I haven't noticed that, Sophie, or that I haven't got plans for you." Sophie felt simultaneously pleased and deeply uneasy, a combination that made her nauseated. "But business isn't what it once was for event companies. Budgets are tight; we have to be more competitive and more on the ball than we have ever been before." Sophie got the distinct impression that when Gillian said we, she actually meant you.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say, Sophie, is that I want to support you in this, I am full of admiration for you. But if you start to feel that you can't manage to look after the children and keep up with work, I'll need to know. I'll need to make other arrangements."

"That won't happen," Sophie said instantly, worrying darkly about what "other arrangements" might be.

"Good," Gillian said. "Look, Sophie, you've heard all the rumors about me stepping down from the office and passing the baton on, haven't you?"

Sophie nodded dumbly. There was no point in denying it. Gillian would only know she was lying.

"Well, I'm telling you and nobody else that that is only going to happen if I feel the people I can trust to take on that responsibility are able to put one hundred percent into this job. Do you understand what I mean?"

Sophie nodded again, wondering if she really did understand.

"Good," Gillian said. And then she began to look through the papers on her desk, a sure sign that your presence was no longer required. For a second, Sophie was too stunned to move. This morning she'd had a life in total chaos, yes, but it had been a temporary chaos, underpinned by the one constant in her life-her job. And now it seemed that Gillian was telling her ever so nicely that if she took her eye off the ball, she could lose what she prized most highly. Sophie looked at the two girls and forcibly pushed back down the ugly resentment she felt rising from the pit of her stomach.

Gillian looked up and flashed her best smile. "Well, off you go then, and take these two to the zoo or something. I'll see you next time you're in for a progress report."

As she stood up and gestured for the girls to leave the room, Sophie looked at the top of Gillian's neatly bobbed head, which was already bent over some paperwork. She knew Gillian; when she had made up her mind something should happen, it happened. But Gillian had scared her. For the first time since getting the children, Sophie realized that there was chance, if she didn't handle this very carefully, that she would never get her old life back. There was, Sophie realized, only one way she could make this work. She had to accept that she was stuck with the children for as long as it took to get hold of their dad-she'd just have to make sure she covered all the bases. Anything she let slip now would take all the work and ambition of the last few years with it. It would be hard and stressful, but she had to remind herself, it wouldn't be forever, just until Maria Costello found Louis.

Praying that Maria Costello was as good as she said she was, Sophie took the girls back to her office to brief Lisa and Cal. But they were still nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Lisa and Cal go?" Sophie asked Bella.

"Oh, to the ladies', Lisa was crying," Bella said.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Again?" she asked herself more than Bella. "What was it this time, a broken nail or did some passing stranger chuck her too?"

Bella looked perplexed and shook her head. "No, I think she was pretty upset about Izzy pouring glue in her hair," she said.

Izzy nodded vigorously. "Yes, because it went all sticky and white," she said with a gurgle.

"And because Cal said she should be used to having sticky white stuff in her hair. Why's that, Aunty Sophie?"

"Never you mind," Sophie said. She opened her desk drawer and took out her emergency safety pin, feeling secretly delighted that she finally had a suitable emergency to use it on. She looked at the upturned faces of the girls staring at her with the velvet brown eyes of their absent father as she secured the hole that gaped across her cleavage. "Well, that would certainly set her off. Still, on the bright side, I don't have to tell her about popping a button off her shirt. Come on, let's go. I'll call them later and do a conference call."

"Are we going to the zoo, zoo, zoo, you can come too, too, too, like the nice lady said?" asked Izzy, hopping from one foot to the other.

"No," Sophie said as she led them to the lift. "We're going somewhere even better."

"Where? Where?" Izzy cried.

"Back to the flat," Sophie said.

As Izzy's face crumpled dangerously, Bella's eyes clouded. "But what about our prize?" she demanded. "You said we were getting a prize!"

Sophie paused for a moment. She had forgotten about the prize, and she had rather hoped they had forgotten too, but as the detonator in Izzy's head was only seconds from going off, Sophie rapidly changed her plans. "Of course!" She said with a huge smile. "Let's go to the prize shop!"

"Hooray!" Izzy said, the tantrum abating instantly. "Let's go. Let's go! Let's go!"

Eight.

Half an hour later, as Sophie watched Bella trying to decide between faux sheepskin boots and pink suede shoes with hearts on the front, she made a mental note that bribery seemed to date the most effective way of controlling the girls, especially Izzy. She had read about it in the dog book. They recommended liver treats, but Sophie thought clothes and toys were probably more appealing to small girls. The moment she had told Izzy only nice, quiet, happy girls got fairy dresses, the child had transformed into a more sugary version of Shirley Temple and had at least three members of the store's staff in the palm of her sticky hand.

"Oh, what a darling," one of them told Sophie. "Her daddy must be awfully good-looking."

"Wouldn't know," Sophie said absently, which garnered several raised eyebrows.

As for Bella, she had one of each shoe on and was turning in front of the mirror, lifting one foot and then the other, narrowing her eyes as she looked at her reflection and then closing them tightly before opening them again, as if to get the full shoe effect.

Sophie rested her chin on the heels of her hands and waited. If she knew anything, it was that you couldn't rush buying a pair of shoes. She smiled fondly at the expensive thick paper bag with corded handles that resided by her feet. From the moment she had seen the new season's pair of Luc Berjen tweed shoes in the shop window to the moment she had handed over her credit card, her heart had beat like a drum; now she felt elated and content. In her admittedly limited experience, shoe shopping was so much more satisfying than sex, with the afterglow lasting much longer and leaving behind much less mess. Which was why she jumped off her stool when her cell phone's polyphonic version of "Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong" boomed out.

The girls stopped as if they were playing a reverse version of musical statues and stared at her for a moment before continuing their activities.

"Good news," Maria Costello said in her ear. "I've found him."

"You've found him?" Sophie said in disbelief. Bella looked up at her sharply and, sitting down with a bump, shushed a dizzily giggling Izzy, who had collapsed on the floor next to her. "You found a replacement ice sculptor so soon, Lisa? Well done," Sophie said carefully.

"More or less," Maria said. "At least I think I've found the country he's in. I'm almost sure. I think he's in Peru. From what I can tell, he's been there for about two years. That's if he hasn't moved on since the last time my contact saw him..."

"Who's your contact." Sophie asked.

There was a sharp intake of breath. "I never reveal my contacts, love."

Sophie rolled her eyes; she was starting to think that Maria took the whole spy thing ever so slightly too seriously. She was secretly certain that, whoever Maria's contact was, it was nothing more mysterious than one of Louis's conquests, who would no doubt be littered around the world while he lived his life of Riley.

"And so?" Sophie pressed. "Got an ETA? One day? Two?"

"I said I think he's in Peru," Maria replied sarcastically. "It's a pretty big place, Peru. I'll try to locate him from my nerve center, but if not, I might have to go out there. You'll have to foot the bill, mind you, and I always go business class on flights over four hours."

Sophie's heart sank. "Maria, Lisa, I mean. Be honest with me, are you going to find...my ice sculptor, or am I throwing my money away for nothing?"

"Did you know he was in Peru before I started looking?" Maria asked irritably. "Did anyone?"

"No," Sophie said hesitantly. "But are you sure he is?"

"Look, love, I'm a private detective, all right? I'll find him. And I'll call you when I know more."

"There's just one thing," Sophie said. "Do you know what he's doing in Peru?"

But Maria had hung up.

It was then Sophie saw Bella watching her intently. "You have to go a long way to get ice sculptors these days," she told the six-year-old.

What had begun as a quick trip to buy prizes had gone very well and had resulted in both of the girls fully appreciating Sophie: Izzy because she loved her new fairy dress and because Sophie didn't make her take it off when they left the shop but instead made the assistant cut off all the labels and remove the security tag with the child still in it. And Bella because after she had regretfully put back the pink shoes in favor of the more sensible boots, Sophie had gone and bought her the shoes too. Sophie had felt good about herself then, almost as if she would get through the next few weeks with her life intact after all.

This, Sophie had decided, was what being a godmother was all about-although it probably also had something to do with religion. But still-buying presents and being popular was definitely where it was at. Her smugness lost a little of its shine when she realized that she had never made the effort to do even this bit for more or less all of the girls' lives until now. In fact, all she had ever done as their godmother up to this point was to turn up to the christening and send her PA out to buy presents three times a year. Sophie wondered, if Carrie had told her about Louis's leaving her, if she had told her about being on her own with the children and evoked their old promise, would she have made more of an effort to see her old friend? Would she have had more to do with the children? To be perfectly honest, she didn't know. She would probably have just assumed that she and Carrie were different people now, that Carrie had her own support network down in St. Ives, her own collection of new and different friends who seemed to help her get along very well without Louis until fate stepped in and fucked everything up for her. Until somehow the girls arrived on Sophie's doorstep and all of those girlhood promises and pacts Sophie and Carrie had made to each other seemed vitally important again.

So it was a peculiar mix of guilt and pleasure that led Sophie to take the girls to several other shops and buy them more clothes. And when in one shop they had both stopped and picked up identical orange stuffed cat toys and hugged them as if their little lives depended on them, she bought those too, along with a baby doll for Izzy and a giant drawing and painting set for Bella.

There had been a slight wobble on the way home when, seeing Izzy screw her fists into her eyes and yawn, Sophie had tentatively suggested a taxi. Izzy had been on the point of a total nervous collapse when out of nowhere, exactly like a knight in shining white armor bar the armor, Jake Flynn had suddenly appeared.

"Goodness me, what a beautiful dress," he'd told Izzy, whose mouth had frozen in midwail and transformed into a smile.

"Thank you," she'd said prettily. "I am beautiful, aren't I?"

"Jake!" Sophie had said, managing to sound both grateful and surprised.

"Cal told me you'd been into the office today," Jake had said, with slight reproach. "I would have come and taken you out for lunch if I'd known." Sophie remembered his offers on the phone and realized that in the last few days she'd hardly had time to think about Jake at all. In her real life, she would have been obsessing over every nuance of their conversation for weeks while putting off any chance to find out what it really meant in case it really did mean something. In this life, though, she didn't have time to think about it. It was an unlikely blessing.