It was his turn to squirm. “English,” he admitted.
Her smile this time dazzled. It caught him right between theeyes. “Like me.” Her phone buzzed. Her smile faded. “Sorry, I have to...” She dug in her bag, dropping the water bottle.
Sam listened shamelessly as he stooped to pick it up.
“Right here... Yeah, of course... No, I don’t mind at all.”
“That was my professor,” Dee explained, tucking the phone away. “Her husband isn’t coming. I have to take the girls home.”
Sam raised his brows. “Bit of an ask, isn’t it? On such short notice.”
“I don’t mind. I like to feel useful. Anyway, they shouldn’t walk alone.”
“Neither should you.”
“I’ll be all right. I’m significantly older than they are.” She smiled bravely. “Anyway, it’s only as far as the bus stop.”
She was right. He was being stupid. It was broad daylight. His sisters took the bus home every day.
Frowning, he watched the boys milling about the other end of the field. “I’ll walk with you.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother.” He winked. “It’s on our way.”
Eight
Glenda Norton lived in a narrow-fronted town house near St. Stephen’s Green.
I stared up at the entrance, guarded by elegant iron railings and crowned with a fanlight, and wondered how it would feel to belong in a house like that. Also, I wondered what Mr.Professor Norton did for a living. Because having spent the better part of a week searching for someplace to live, I was pretty sure you couldn’t afford that house on a teacher’s salary.
Sophie ran lightly up the shallow stone steps. A princess, returning home.
The front door was painted bright blue with a yellow brass knob and knocker. I half expected a hobbit to answer the bell. Or a Minnipin. Or at least a butler.
But then Lily pulled a key on a lanyard from her book bag. As she fit it into the shiny lock, the door opened from the inside, and a figure stood framed in the light of the hall. Not a hobbit. Not even a butler, though he was every bit as intimidating. A tall manin tweeds, with a round, intelligent face and aristocratically graying hair.
“Daddy!” Sophie said.
“Hello, munchkins.” He patted both girls absently, smiling at me over their heads. “You must be the sitter.”
“Yeah, hi.” I hung back at the bottom of the steps, still clutching Sophie’s book bag. “I didn’t know anyone would be home yet.” “Poor James has to work late,” Glenda had said with a put-upon sigh. “So if you wouldn’t mind...” And of course I didn’t. Anything to earn her good opinion.
“James Norton. But where are my manners?” He stepped back from the open door. “Please, come in.”
The hall was tiled in black-and-white marble. A big gilt mirror reflected back a humongous bouquet of actual flowers, lilies and stuff, like an arrangement from a hotel lobby or a very fancy wedding reception. I stopped dead on the exquisitely patterned rug, Aunt Em’s voice in my head shouting, “Wipe your feet.” (Her standard after-school greeting. As if every day would be the one time I forgot and tracked the muck of the barnyard onto her nice clean floor.)
“I suppose you girls should get started on your homework,” James said.
Lily frowned. “But we just got home.”
“Snack first, Daddy,” Sophie said.
“Snack. Yes. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “The thing is... Sharon has already left for the day. Maybe when Mummy gets home...”
“What time?” Lily demanded.
“But I’m hungry now,” Sophie said, sounding like a much younger Toni. “When’s dinner?”
