Damian, the major’s six-year-old grandnephew, leaped off the verandah and ran to meet Mr. Heath, who couldn’t help smiling on seeing his vigor.

The major admonished Mr. Heath for being late. But being casual about time, like his son, Mr. Heath shrugged his shoulders and asked for his tonic. Soon the maid brought out a decanter of Johnny Walker Black and left the two men to chat and bicker and watch the boy play.

“I saw your Fire the other day,” the major remarked. “I was going up to Newcastle and I glimpsed him flying off Mammee River Road. I blew him but I don’t think he knew it was me.”

“When I look at Damian,” Mr. Heath said, “I see Fire. He was such a strong boy. Full of life.”

“He’s so much like you,” the major said. “Loves to talk to people and always late.”

Mr. Heath sucked his teeth.

“But it’s true. Both of you have no concept of time.”

Mr. Heath sucked his teeth again and poured another drink. “You know Ian is here too?” he said ominously.

“No,” the major replied.

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I spoke to him on the telephone. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to come and see me, since he ruined his life in America. I don’t know why that boy doesn’t come home. What is holding him in America?”

“I don’t know,” Major Daley replied. “But who cares? Why do you even bother with him? You took in that boy like your son and tried to point him in the right direction. But he’s just born to be bad. Listen, some people just come from bad seed.”

Mr. Heath shook his head. “Sometimes I’m inclined to believe that bad seed thing,” he began. “If Ian is from bad seed, though, is from the mother, not the father. The father was a good man. I don’t know …”

“Don’t even bother,” the major said. “You’re old now, and Fire and Ian are grown up. Rest.”

Mr. Heath took a sip and shook his head.

chapter eleven

Although Sylvia had assured Diego that she wasn’t going to change her mind, she called Lewis as soon as she was alone. Without Diego’s counsel she began to feel unsure, and she wanted to be able to blame her change of heart on someone else.

She could have called anyone for the second opinion. But Sylvia wanted to discuss things with Lewis because she wanted him to give her a reason to stay. After all, he was the one who stood to lose the most if she should see Fire again. Because she knew that even if nothing happened between her and Fire … even if all they did was talk … even if she never got close enough to his neck to inhale the subtle aroma that clung to his skin … she knew she would return to Lewis with less of her belonging to him than when she left.

Since reading through the press kit, she’d begun to feel more intensely for Fire than she ever had. It wasn’t that she realized he was somebody and not a loafer. The package filled in some of the blanks in his biography, and the knowledge eased her apprehension. From the sheaf of clippings enclosed, she learned a lot about him.