Which was when I suspected that my days at Flindes were numbered.

The phone was ringing when I got back to the flat to collect my notebook and umbrella.

Mum.

*Why haven't you called me back?'

*I didn't know you'd called.'

*I left a lot of messages, Scarlet.'

I glanced at the machine a the red light was blinked manically.

s.h.i.+t.

*Mum, I am so sorry, how are things?'

*They've taken your dad into a home. He's had a stroke. A bad one.'

If I thought I could feel any lower after the episode with Dan Phillit, I'd have been wrong.

*Oh Mum. Shall I come home?'

How it could be managed was a mystery, but I had to offer, didn't I? There would be some way to make it work.

Cecily 2's income from working as a p.o.r.no mistress, perhaps?

*No, no. Don't bother. There's nothing you can do now. Nothing I can do. They say he might go on for years the way he is, now. In a vegetative state. He doesn't known when I go to visit. They are feeding him through a tube.'

Her voice caught and I heard gentle sobs.

*Are you sure you don't want me to come back?'

*I know you can't, dear. And like I said, there is nothing to be done for the poor man now. He isn't on a ventilator and is breathing normally, which means he is just a living sh.e.l.l of what he once was.'

I felt sick with grief. For her, and for me. He might be a cheater, but he was still my dad.

*If that's the case why don't you come here, for a visit?'

It wasn't fair to ask her, because I knew what she'd say.

Predictably, Mum replied as I'd guessed. *I shouldn't leave your father. And the doctor said I still can't fly because of my blood pressure .'

*Then I'll try to get to you, help you sort out Dad's stuff.'

Once Robert paid me the full amount for my work, I'd have the money for a fare.

*Alright dear, but don't hurry. There is nothing to be gained from you coming immediately.'

I tried not to think about the fact that I didn't have my job at the co-op any longer. Once the Chocolato money was spent, we'd be eating con-flakes for every meal.

What Carson would say when he found out I'd been fired from Flindes?

Probably not a lot. Carson was fond of the silent treatment.

*No dear,' Mum repeated, when I didn't answer. *Don't worry, your father had everything organized, just in case. The bank says it is all in order. Don't you fret, it will all work out. It always does.'

And then Mum rang off without saying goodbye, because she couldn't speak through her tears any longer.

An hour later, I'd pulled it together. Whatever happened, I needed to earn that extra two thousand dollars a and the reasons were certainly beginning to stack up. In fact, my head was spinning with Mum, Lolly, Carson, the kids and Cecily 2 a I could barely put one foot in front of the other for the worries slos.h.i.+ng about inside my brain.

Wrapping up warm, I caught a variety of public transport options, most of which succeeded in breaking down at some point during the journey.

When I finally got to Manhattan, I made my way to each of the three shops on Robert Simpson's list and took account of the window displays. There wasn't much to differentiate between the three. They were all dark, conservative-looking places, and the first thing I asked each manager was: Why on earth aren't there more lights on the chocolate?

*It's like you're trying to hide the stock.'

It melts, came back the answer each time. Of course. Unwrapped chocolate melts under lights in an enclosed s.p.a.ce, and then it re-hardens overnight, causing a horrible streaky white on the chocolate that tastes gritty when eaten.

*We can't afford to waste food,' the manager of Shop One, a slender guy with a lofty expression and one of those semi-beards, told me. *But I agree with you, we aren't displaying the chocolates off properly. Look at those darling chocolate cows a the detail is exquisite, but no one can get a good look. We've put some of our packaging here and there to brighten things up, but if we just show the boxes, no one knows what's inside and they don't buy as much. We would get far more sales with the chocolates shown off in their full glory.'

The present arrangement was shelf drawers of different chocolate animals in lines, with a few gold boxes tied with Christmas ribbons dotted about. Because of the dim lighting, the drawers appeared a sludge of brown.

By the time I'd made it around all three stores, a plan was forming.

But to make it work, I needed to see if Hammertro's uncle could help me with it a at a low, low cost. I wanted to hang on to as much of the thousand dollar deposit as I could. Without comprising on the end result, of course. I'd call on Hammertro the moment I got in.

But before I set off for home, there was one final call I needed to make.

Racing through the subway system and coming up near LollyBliss, I found Lolly behind the counter and the place almost empty.

*Oh, Scar, hi.'

*Why aren't you picking up my calls?'

*I thought you'd think I was a freak. I wanted to give you time not to hate me.'

Oh Lolly.

Poor, beautiful, Lolly.

*Of course I don't think that. I can't reciprocate, of course, buta*

Lolly's tinkling laugh trickled over the counter.

*Why would you reciprocate?'

*Because, you, um, think of me, um, in that way.'

More laughter. *You think I am in love with you?'

*Isn't that why you're not picking up the phone?'

She let me down gently. *As attractive as you are, Scar, it's not you.'

I was about to begin the interrogation of who the miraculous creature was who'd finally won Lolly's affections when Lucinda stumbled from the back room with a huge armful of clothes.

*Too heavy,' she declared, dumping them on the counter.

I waited for Lolly to tell her to be careful; that she'd snag the brightly colored trademark knitwear on the tops of the hangers by carrying them like that, but Lolly wasn't looking at the jumpers.

Her eyes were fixed to Lucinda.

And then I got it.

Oh no.

Really?

Lucinda?

For the first time ever, I felt really, really sorry for Lolly.

Because the likelihood of Lucinda being gay was on par with Carson suddenly becoming a jobbing lawyer.

It was never, ever going to happen.

Before I could say anything more, Lolly came to her senses and suggested that if I was going to be in Manhattan then we should meet up for lunch later in the week.

*Sure. I'll call you, but pick up this time, okay?'

Lolly nodded, but once again, her gaze was elsewhere.

I was almost to the subway when my mobile rang.

Not problems with Cecily 2, I prayed.

The prayers were answered. Sort of. It was Robert.

*Hi, are you still in town?'

How did he know I was in town. Must have a.s.sumed I would be, given I'd agreed to complete the job in three b.l.o.o.d.y days.

*Just leaving.'

*Oh, how about a coffee and a debrief?'

I was shattered from the day from h.e.l.l and I still had to get home and find food in the cupboards to turn into a half respectable dinner, but how could I say no?

He'd gotten me the position, hadn't he?

I looked around, spied a Starbucks, and told Robert where I was. It was a tad rude, demanding he come to me, but under the circ.u.mstances, it was the best that I, and my poor, tired feet, could manage.

As I waited, I considered that when the airfare back to England was factored in, the leftover profit from these window jobs was going to have to last a long time.

But how long could about fifteen hundred dollars last?

Maybe Chocolato would employ me on a more regular basis? I could always ask, couldn't I? Lolly said she'd pay me for her next windows a in fact, she said I could change them again in the new year.

I needed to charm the boss of Chocolato, if only I could discover who he was.

It was strange I hadn't come across the owner at any of the stores.

Each of the respective managers indicated he was pretty *hands-on'.

At the second store, the female manager said he was out the back counting inventory and went to get him, but it transpired the man had inexplicably disappeared through a little-used rear exit.

*Well, h.e.l.lo again.'

Robert was standing there, his sculptured features staring down at me, sporting a bemused grin.

*So, Scarlet, how's the job going?'

With his face bright from the cold, and his huge, lumberjack-style designer coat being at the very height of fas.h.i.+on, my old crush certainly made an impact on the ladies. At least four women, including the girl cas.h.i.+er, looked up as he pecked in the general direction of my cheek.

*Good.'

Nice one. What a conversationalist. No wonder you are almost jobless!

He ordered our coffees, remembering my preference from last time, and I began to tell him of my observations.

Halfway through my soliloquy Robert grasped my still gloved hand.

*Why are you still wearing these?'

He didn't let go.

Uncomfortable under his querying stare, I eased my hand away.

*Cold extremities. I don't know why, coming from England you'd think I'd be used to the cold.'

*Here, let me warm them for you.'

Robert took off the cheap woolen mittens with the disturbed-looking Santas on them and gently rubbed each hand, one by one.