of the same picture on her studio wall. Adam knew his younger sister doted on her nephew – he was the only real reason they stayed in touch.
Sabrina. What was he going to tell her when she got here? Adam glanced at his watch and winced. Any time now. His hand was trembling as he replaced the picture frame on the bookcase. Another acid lurch in his throat, and he turned and stumbled towards the downstairs bathroom.
He was bent over the toilet bowl, retching vomit and whiskey, when a smooth female electronic voice announced through the hidden speakers: ‘You have a visitor.’
Sabrina Connor paid the taxi driver, got her bags from the back and watched as the car turned and disappeared out of the gates. She looked up at the house, shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sunshine, and smiled. She was looking forward to this break. Seven whole days away from London, the hustle and humidity and bad air, her capricious celebrity clients. Perfect. And it was great to be able to spend some time with Rory – she hadn’t seen him since Christmas. This time she might actually beat the little smartass at chess.
The door opened. Adam stepped out to greet her. When he came up and hugged her, it was more tightly than usual. She could smell the sharp tang of mouthwash on him, and when she broke the embrace and looked up at her elder brother, she could see his eyes were a little pink.
‘You changed your hair again,’ he said.
She ran her fingers through the spiky red highlights. ‘I like it like this. You OK? You look a little wired.’
‘I’m fine. Just working hard.’ He smiled weakly. ‘Come inside. It’s good to see you. Want a drink?’ He picked up her bags and ushered her inside.
‘Coffee would be great. Oh, here. I got you something.’ She unzipped one of her bags and took out a little package. ‘Happy birthday. Forty-five.’
He took it. ‘Forty-six. And it was nearly two months ago.’
‘What a close-knit little family we are. Well, aren’t you going to open it?’
He tore the wrapper. ‘Handkerchiefs.’
‘Irish linen,’ she said. ‘Had to scour London for them. I got them embroidered, too, see? Adam O’Connor.’ She exaggerated the ‘O’.
‘I know you think it’s stupid, me changing my name. But it’s important to me. It’s heritage.’
She shrugged. ‘Do what you want. Fine by me.’
‘Nice hankies.’
‘Kind of a lame present, huh?’
‘No, really. I like them.’
Sabrina glanced around. ‘Where’s Rory?’
‘Tennis camp,’ he replied instantly.
‘Tennis camp? You’re kidding me, right?’
Adam shook his head. ‘Nope. Tennis camp.’
‘When?’
‘I drove him up there yesterday.’
‘Where?’
He made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Up in Donegal.’
‘They even have things like tennis camp in this place?’
‘Whatever they call it. Activity holiday, something like that. Why, you think we’re all bog paddies living in mud huts out here?’
‘Oh, give it a rest with the whole Irish thing, Adam.’
‘Anyway, so he’s at tennis camp.’
She shrugged. ‘Fine. It’s just I thought he hated sports.’
Adam headed for the kitchen to put some coffee on. ‘You know what kids are like. One of his friends plays and so he wanted to have a go. It’ll do him good. Get him away from that damn chess computer of his.’
‘When will he be back?’
‘Couple of weeks.’
Sabrina made a face. ‘Jesus, Adam. You didn’t think to tell me about any of this before? I was really looking forward to seeing him, you know.’
He sighed. ‘Look, the truth is that I totally forgot. I was meaning to call you about it ages ago. It just slipped my mind. I’m sorry.’
‘I spoke to him on the phone not long ago, and he never said a word about going to any tennis camp.’
‘Well, you know Rory. He moves in mysterious ways sometimes. Like I said, I’m really sorry.’
‘I’m sorry too.’ She sighed. ‘Just disappointed, that’s all.’
The coffee was beginning to bubble up in the percolator. Adam took two mugs from the shelf and poured it out for them. Sabrina settled on a stool at the mahogany breakfast bar and sipped her coffee. She felt soft fur brush her leg, and a Siamese cat jumped up on her lap. ‘Hey, Cassini.’ She stroked the cat and it rubbed its head against her.
‘You’re the one visitor he doesn’t bite,’ Adam said, pulling up another stool. ‘He likes you.’
She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, here I am. Rory or no Rory.’
‘It’s really good to see you, sis. Really good.’ She watched him. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. You just seem a little tense. Things going all right here?’
‘Things are fine.’
‘Thought maybe you’d heard from Amy or something.’ He snorted. ‘Who? No, I don’t think so.’
‘How’s business?’
‘Business is great.’
She touched his arm. ‘Look, I know that you and I aren’t that close. But you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?’
Adam forced a laugh. ‘Don’t be silly. You know I would. I’m just a little tired. I’ve been working late a lot the last couple of weeks. New project.’ He paused. ‘Speaking of which—’
She glanced up. ‘What?’
He hesitated. ‘I have to go away too.’
‘What? When?’
‘Tomorrow morning. Something really important just came up. There’s this conference in Edinburgh, and someone dropped out, and I’ve got to speak in their place, and, well…’
‘I just love your sense of timing.’
‘I know. But you’re more than welcome to stay here. As long as you like.’
‘All alone?’
‘You’ve
