“Hello?” She couldn't imagine who it was. And smiled when she heard Brad.

“I'm sorry to wake you,” he apologized. “I just wanted to say good-bye again.”

“How did your meetings go in New York?” She rolled over in bed, holding the phone, and opened her eyes.

“Great. I got some very interesting advice from my friend. I don't know if it'll work, but I'm going to try like hell when I get back.” Faith knew how much it mattered to him. He had lost a trial two months before, and a sixteen-year-old boy had gone to prison for five years. Brad had been devastated, and was convinced it was his fault for not doing a better job.

“I know you will,” she reassured him. “What's the weather like in London?”

“Freezing. Cold. Rainy. The usual.”

“Sounds like New York,” she smiled. In spite of herself, she was glad he had called.

“I wish I could go see Eloise for you. I think I could make her listen to me, I'd sure as hell love to try.” But they both knew it was impossible. He was a stranger to her daughter.

“I wish you could. Are you doing anything special in London?” It was strange to think of him with Pam for two weeks. Their lives were so separate most of the time, that she suspected the constant proximity would be hard on him, and maybe also on her. They were almost strangers to each other now. The only common ground they shared was their sons.

“Nothing much. Pam will want to shop. I thought I'd go to the British Museum for a couple of hours. Maybe I'll go with her. But shopping makes me crazy after a while.” And then he had a thought. “Maybe I'll go to church, and light candles for you and Jack.” The thought of him doing it made her smile, as she lay listening to him in the dark.

“It gets addictive, doesn't it?” she said, and he laughed.

“Yes, it does. The funny thing is I believe in it. It's as though as long as that little light stays on, something special will happen to you, or you'll be safe. I want to give that to you,” he said gently.

“You already do. But I appreciate the candles too. I'm sorry I missed your calls this morning. I went to church really early.”

“That's funny. I had the feeling that was where you were. You looked awfully serious last night, Fred. Were you okay?” She had been thinking of him and all she felt for him, and she had no intention of telling him that, or she would have to go to confession again.

“I'm okay,” she reassured him, “there's just a lot going on in my life these days. A lot to think about.”

“I know. That's why I worry about you.” And then after a moment's pause, he sighed and told her he had better get to the hotel. “Take good care of yourself, Fred. I'll talk to you in two weeks.”

“Take care of you too. And have fun!” she said, and then he was gone, and she lay in bed thinking of him for hours after she hung up the phone. Gouging Brad out of her heart was not going to be an easy thing to do. And watering down what they had until it was just friendship again would be just as hard. She had no idea what to do.

It was after six A.M. British time, when Brad arrived, and by the time he went through customs, called Faith, and got the limo into town, it was nearly nine o'clock. Pam had stayed at Claridge's the night before, and she had already gone out when he walked into the room. She had left him a note, and told him that she would be back in time to leave for the airport with him, and that all her bags were packed. As usual, she had brought far too much.

Brad showered and shaved, ordered something to eat from room service, read the paper, and left the hotel at noon. He went to the British Museum, as he had told Faith he would, and found a beautiful old church on Kingsway, six blocks from the museum, and lit the candles he had promised for her and Jack. He sat in the church for a long time, thinking about her, and what a decent person she was, and how he wished he could do more for her. And then he went for a long walk. He wound up on New Bond Street finally, and wandered into some art galleries. He stepped into Asprey's to admire the silver animals and leather goods, and then he ran right into Pam coming out of Graff's. It was one of the most important jewelers in the world.

“If you tell me you just bought something, I'm going to have a heart attack,” he said fervently, and she laughed.

“Just window shopping,” she said innocently. She didn't tell him she had bought a narrow diamond bracelet and a new watch. They were sending them home for her, so she didn't have to come clean with Brad yet.

She had a limousine from the hotel, and Brad caught a ride back to the hotel with her. She was looking very stylish in a navy pantsuit and a fur-trimmed raincoat. It was hard to imagine her in Africa. She looked far more at ease in London, in the back of a limousine.

“What did you do today?” she asked pleasantly, as they rode back to the hotel. He smiled to himself thinking how horrified she'd be if he said he'd gone to church.

“I went to the British Museum,” Brad said innocently.

“How sensible.” She smiled, as they pulled up in front of Claridge's, and the doorman and a bevy of porters ran to their aid. The driver had put half a dozen shopping bags in the trunk for her, and Brad groaned when he saw them emerge.

“I hope you bought another suitcase to put them in, if you're planning to take all that to Africa.” He couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd bought. There were bags from Gucci, Hermes, Saint Laurent, and Chanel. Not to mention her stop at Graff's.

“I have room in my suitcases. Don't worry about it,” she said, and then marched into the hotel, as the porters followed with her bags. It struck Brad as he brought up the rear how different she was from Faith. She was powerful, confident, didn't hesitate to tell people what to do, and gave everyone the impression that she could have run the world, and would, given half the chance. Faith was infinitely gentler, quieter, more subtle in her approach, and whenever he was around her, Brad had a sense of peace. When he was with Pam, he had the feeling that he was standing on a volcano that was about to erupt. One had a sense of tension and energy that was inadequately confined. And he never knew when her velocity would be directed toward him.

They didn't say anything to each other while they rode up in the elevator, and Pam turned to look at him as they walked into the room. She felt as though she hadn't really seen him in a long time. And in a sense, that was true, even though they existed marginally under one roof.

“It's too bad the boys are in Africa,” Pam said as she sat down in a large wing chair in the living room of their suite. She always stayed in luxurious hotels, and took big suites. “I wish they were someplace more civilized,” she said, kicking off her shoes, “like Paris or New York.”

“I don't think that would be as much fun for them,” Brad said, opening a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and offering her some.

“Probably not,” she said, and barely took a breath before her next question. She was clever and read him well. She knew he had something on his mind. Although they weren't close, she had remarkable instincts for him. And not always of the best kind. Sometimes all she wanted to do was corner him, and prove she could. “How was New York?”

“Very good,” he said, looking pleased. “I got everything I wanted from Joel Steinman, on that capital case I've got.”

“That's nice.” She was never interested in his work, any more than he was in hers. “How was your friend?” Bingo. She could see it in his eyes, no matter what he chose to say next.

“Faith?” He wasn't going to hide it from her, nor give her the satisfaction of discovering it at some later date. “Fine. I had dinner with her last night.”

“Has she figured out yet that you're in love with her?” Pam asked unemotionally. She had everything she wanted from him. Respectability, limited companionship, and the convenience of not unwinding a marriage they had had for years, which it would have bothered her to give up, as much as it would him. Which was why they stayed married. It worked for both of them. But he didn't like the nature of her question, nor her tone.

“No, she hasn't. Because I'm not.” Pam had figured it out before he had, but he had no intention of admitting that to her. Secretly, he now knew she was right. But it would have been dangerous for all concerned to admit it to her. And more than anything, he owed it to Faith to protect her. “I told you, we're old friends.”

“I can't figure out if you're lying to yourself, me, or her. Probably all three.”

“That's a pretty picture you've painted,” Brad said, looking annoyed, as he took a sip of wine. Pam was quietly sipping hers and watching him.

“Don't look so uptight,” she teased. “You must be in love with her, if you're so defensive. It's no big deal, Brad. We've both been there before. What are you being so sensitive about? What's so sacred about this girl?”

“She's the sister of my best friend, who happens to be dead. And I grew up with her. She's like my kid sister. And I think it's tasteless of you to be making those kinds of allusions about her.”

“Sorry if I'm tasteless, darling. You know how I am. I call it the way I see it. And I know you. I think you have a thing for her. No big deal. I'm not sensitive about it.

Why the hell should you be?” She had a way of prying into his life without tact or sensitivity. It was why their marriage had finally not worked. One way or another, she ran roughshod over him. And it was one of the things he loved about Faith. She was gentle with him. And with everyone. Pam hit everything with a hammer, and mostly him.

“Why don't we just drop this particular subject for the rest of the trip? It'll go a lot better for both of us if we do.” They were about to spend more time alone together, and in close quarters, than they had in years. In San Francisco, they could get away from each other, and had their own lives. On this trip, it was going to be like being Siamese twins. And Brad wasn't thrilled.