Morningstar Manor

Ylva was in the park again with the remains of a nice chicken salad sandwich, a very short skirt and a collection of Nabokov's short stories. In English, this time. She was just reading for the heck of it.

Kris had been passing the florists and had been drawn in by the wonderful heady scent. Now he was crossing the Square with his purchases - a bunch of brilliant orange tiger lilies and a cactus of hilariously suggestive shape - and was debating what to drop of where. Celeste seemed like a good sport but would she appreciate a wang shaped cactus? Demitri on the other hand would probably find it as funny as he did.

Sometimes being sophisticated was such hard work that Kris gave it a miss.

###

Ylva was in Riverwalk Park with her lunch and a book. She was possibly a little too close to the Manor for comfort but the park was full of blondes today, she'd blend in.

She crossed long tanned legs, settled her sunglasses more firmly on her nose and turned a page.

###

The roof garden was open again, if a little sparse of plants, and Nick was on his knees unpacking the crate that had been left for the Manor by the Sexton family. At least this time there had been family. So often, he'd heard, they had carefully packed the lost life away into boxes and crates, had sent the furniture to auction for charity and had packed everything away. Rooms and rooms full of memories and nobody to appreciate them.

But this was another matter, he thought, as he uncovered the piece of relief sculpture and the discreet little plaque he was supposed to mount near it.

###

Allan lay flat on his back in the garden, with his eyes closed and his arms spread out. The un shone down and he was warm and drowsy and full of lunch and thinking hard about his latest bronze. It was back and he was halfway through finishing it and he was worried that Deacon and Charlie wouldn't like it. It hadn't turned out the way he'd intended at all.

But he'd worry about that later. For now he was warm - and might go to sleep.

Ylva couldn't have been more shocked when she had got the frantic phone call from Daphne and had spent the day at De Rossi fielding enquiries from other anxious staff members though at that point she hadn't known much more than they had.

Then had come to terrible news and Ylva had passed it on to the ones she judged really cared and made a hasty substitution in the case of one pretty girl for whom Isabella's loss was too sharp a reminder of her own a year or two before.

This afternoon she had called to check on progress and had accepted the gentle rebuff philosophically. She wasn't family so had no right to information. However, she could visit.

The waiting area outside Isabella's private room was very palatial. Ylva watched the nurse go into the room and listened to the soft voices beyond the door.

"I can't believe he did that," Ylva said as he fingers danced through the filing system , slotting dockets and receipts into the correct folders. "All night - did he really expect you to believe that?"

She giggled and glanced across at Isabella who was working at her desktop and looking, truth to tell, a little peaky. But at least she had stopped that awful nausea.

The office door looked good quality and the lettering was discreet. Ylva nodded approvingly and opened the door and stepped inside.

"Good afternoon," she said, making herself sound even more east of mid-Atlantic than normal. She smiled to the woman at the desk. "I'm Sylvia Sands. I believe I have an appointment to see Miss Rossi."

Micah's call hadn't been unexpected but it had been poorly timed. Ylva had needed some time to herself and had taken a bus to Cleveland and then had flown to Stockholm for a week to enjoy some time with her relatives. She had returned early on Sunday morning and was trying to get unjet-lagged by staying awake as long as possible.

So that is why she was yawning and having another cup of coffee as she waited for Micah to arrive. This mall really was a bit down market. She shouldn't see anyone she knew.

That time of the month again, and Ylva had dropped into the drugstore to get some supplies and some painkillers. Not that she was in much pain, but she knew from experience that it would come and go as the evening went on.

With a basket on her arm with the absolute necessities in it, she inspected the other goods and contemplated buying a wheat pillow to heat up in the microwave. All the dancing was making her left ankle ache.

Ylva's shopping trip had bourne fruit - in that some of the contents were berry flavoured - but she felt that the basket provided was a bit lack lustre so bagged it up and took herself off to Noir to see what Rhiannon and her minions could do with it.

"Shop?" she called over the sound of the chimes. "Ah, there you are!"

"Peeved" didn't begin to cover Ylva's demeanour as she parked her car along the street from Underground and got out, slamming the door with unnecessary force.

She had made another attempt to get into the batch of containers she had arranged to have delivered for her brother and had almost been caught. Not by the previous watchman, an elderly man with an equally elderly Dobermann, but by some young thug packing a pistol in the back of his pants. Luckily he had spotted her before she got out of the car and she had been able to giggle and pout and reassure him she was the blondest of the blonde and had taken the wrong route.

But she bet those containers were full. She'd have bet half her annual income - which was plenty.

It occurred to her that under similar circumstances her brother would have bet everything, but they were very different characters. That was one of the reasons she both loved and was infuriated by him.

With the car door locked she headed for the clubs. Hardly late at all.

Ylva opened the door of the boutique and stepped inside hurriedly. She had made the mistake of leaving her hat at home this morning and it was freezing. She fluffed up her hair and looked around at the displays with an appreciative eye. Her last purchases had been so successful that she thought it only common sense to come back for a top up.

It was the fifth one she had been into and Ylva was beginning to feel a little - put out.

"And I'll have a pack of that tea - you know - the one in the pinkish packet."

"Sorry," the assistant was terse. "Sold out, don't know when any more will be coming in."

"Pity," Ylva said apparently unconcerned though she was actually anything but.

She paid for her purchases and slipped them into her bag and left the shop, tugging her collar up against the cold. The Chai was coming into the City - it should be in the shops - so what was happening to it?

The house on Hampton Road was bearable and she had a few hours before she was due at work so strolled along Vine Street, checking out the shops and deciding where to eat.

She had no particular worries about being spotted by Max - Subway wasn't his sort of place - and most of his staff didn't know her. The only two she did worry about were Jimmy Wendell, Max's pet troll, and Micah the bodyguard, but neither would be expecting to see her and blondes were ten a penny in this city.

She paused to look at the display in a boutique and tilted her head. At least she'd be able to keep her wardrobe topped up.