“I mean these people . . . They might be relations.”

He shrugged. “It can’t help me.”

She looked again at the creased photo. He was still holding it.

“Have you seen that picture before?”

He nodded. “My mother . . . my mother kept it in her handbag.”

“Fuck,” said Carmen, unable to help herself.

“Sorley was a . . . he was a difficult man. Very famous family. Used to getting his own way. Thought my mother would be a pretty country girl he could dominate and make lots of breeding stock on.” He half smiled. “He got more than he bargained for there.”

“But they stayed together?”

“Everyone stayed together. That’s how it worked.”

“But she kept that picture. Did you find it?”

He smiled. “I was trying to steal money. For sweets. It was after they got rid of rationing. I was so excited. I wanted to buy so much chocolate . . . but I found that.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to talk about it,” he said. “Oh God. I did not want to hear it.”

“She couldn’t have told anyone.”

“She never did. People made up their own stories anyway. Next time I checked her handbag, the picture had gone. And my train set was packed away in the attic.”

Carmen nodded. “She must have loved him, to risk all that.”

He sighed. “My mother was just about the most unhappy woman I ever met in my life.”

“But, Mr. McCredie,” said Carmen urgently. She could hear the noise of the party rising higher. “Look what you have here. You have your beautiful shop. Your lovely house. And out there—there are so many friends. So many people who care about you.”

“That’s all you,” said Mr. McCredie. “It’s you that’s made this shop busy again.”

“Yes, because of my dumb sister, Sofia—she cared about you so much she got me up to work for you. And she’s only your lawyer. People care.”

Mr. McCredie wiped his eyes.

“Have a think about meeting the German people?” said Carmen. “They’re here at the Christmas market, at least for another week or so.”

He swallowed hard.

“Time heals a lot of things,” said Carmen.

Mr. McCredie didn’t say anything.

“And now,” said Carmen, “I need you to come and say a few words, otherwise everyone is going to go and spend all their money at the magic shop again. Bronagh will just put a spell on them.”

ALREADY BORED WITH Blair doing his glad-handing routine with the women getting their books signed—it was nice that they were giving her envious glances, but really it was terribly repetitive and nobody talked to her at all—Skylar turned around, looking at the rest of the party. The bell rang and the tall figure of the lecturer sloped in, wearing a fresh white shirt that was so new it probably still had pins in it. Skylar bounced over to him with her broadest smile.

“Dr. Oke!”