Dramatic pause. “Thierry and your mom have broken up. He’s moved out.”

“YES!” shouts Rat, whooping so loud the others look over at her in surprise.

“Yeah, this weekend some friend of his came by, and helped him load up all his stuff.”

“I didn’t think he had any friends. I didn’t know he had any stuff of his own, either. It’s probably all stuff he’s ripped off from me and Vanessa. So he’s really gone? Just like that?”

“Oh, I think it’s been a long time in the making. He’d got fired by Jens for real—I don’t think your mom was too happy about that, and then she found out that Thierry’d forged this big check in her name, so that her bank account’s, like, frozen. And I think that did it.

“Your apartment has definitely been … lively for the past few weeks. Every now and then, my mom would look at my dad and say, Don’t you think it’s time you knocked on the door and made sure they’re still alive in there? And Dad would be, like, No, actually, I think it’s your turn.”

“And how’s Vanessa?”

“She’s a little sad. She was over for dinner last night. She told us”—Jérôme’s voice goes dry with embarrassment—“she’d wanted to have a baby with him. She said she’d figured he was her last chance of having a baby, and that makes her sad.”

“Well, that was a near miss. So he’s really gone.”

“Looks like. I mean, an asshole like that doesn’t give up easy, especially when she’s supporting him. But she seemed pretty convinced it’s over. Anyway, she was talking about putting out an injunction on him. Forging checks is the kind of thing that gets you in serious trouble.”

“Is she admitting now he really was a child molester?”

“You know what? It didn’t come up.”

“Yeah, that’s so Vanessa. Molest my son, fine, but steal my money and you’re outta here.”

“So your dad’s nice?”

Rat checks to be sure Gillem’s out of earshot. “He’s all right. Doesn’t like the city. He likes to wander around barefoot, just like me. And his artwork’s really cool. I wrote you about how he’s making this great big quilt against the invasion of Iraq, right?”

“Barefoot? I thought he was driving around in a red Ferrari.”

“Fuck off.”

“And so you have a little brother.”

“Half brother.”

“Is he nice?”

“Aw, he’s a pain like all the little brothers in the world except for Morgan.”

“You’re not gonna stay, are you?”

“If Thierry’s gone?” It’s true, Thierry’s departure puts a different complexion on things. “I don’t know. I like it here, London’s, I mean, it’s superexpensive, but it’s cool—”