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fall again.
    That seemed to settle them. It was amazing the effect Stella had on them.
    â€œThey’re just playing,” she said. “They’ll be good as gold.”
    â€œI hope you’re not taking all those children fishing with you,” said Jake’s mother in a worried voice. “They might fall in.”
    â€œOh, not at all,” said Stella. “Of course not.”
    Jake’s mother looked relieved.

CHAPTER
    18
    Jake’s idea of fishing was to put a worm on a hook, sling it over the pier and hope for the best. Stella had more complicated ideas. She squinted at the horizon, licked her finger and held it up in the wind and squinched her face into a monkey’s snout while she appeared to smell the tide.
    Jake stared at her, and then he stared at the younger children, who all sat in a row on the pier and worked quickly and quietly, untangling Stella’s fishing gear. There was masses of it, things called spinners and bobs and flies—all things Jake had never even heard of—bundled into a biscuit box.
    â€œHow come they’re doing that?” Jake asked, nodding toward the working children.
    â€œI promised them ice creams if they’re good.”
    â€œThat’s bribery,” said Jake.
    â€œFair exchange is no robbery,” said Stella, whatever that was supposed to mean.
    â€œWhere’s the small one?” Jake asked suddenly, looking around. “Did we leave him on the DART? Oh, my God!”
    â€œNo,” said Stella. “He’s Fergal. He stays at home. He’s too young.”
    â€œFor fishing?”
    â€œFor me,” said Stella. She was gouging a limpet out of its shell with her penknife. Then she sliced it in two and gave Jake one piece, for bait.
    â€œI don’t do small ones,” she said. “I mean, I love them to bits, but I don’t mind them until they’re old enough not to fall in. Or nearly.” She nodded toward the youngest one she had with her, whose name seemed to be Joey, only it was wearing a dress, which didn’t seem quite right.
    Jake looked dubiously at the children who were supposed to be old enough not to fall in. He didn’t for a moment think they were all that specially trustworthy, even if they had played quietly—fairly quietly —under his kitchen table for a good half hour. They pranced about a bit too much, in his view. Their feet seemed to be on a level with their ears more often than he was entirely happy about.
    â€œI thought you told my mother that we weren’t bringing them with us.”
    â€œNo,” said Stella. “That’s not what I said. I said they wouldn’t fall in. And they won’t.”
    â€œDoes your mother know they’re here?”
    â€œThat’s none of your business, Jake,” said Stella.
    â€œIt will be if one falls in,” said Jake in a worried voice.
    Stella just laughed at him.
    They sat for long hours on the pier and held their fishing rods, and had pointless, pleasant conversations. They caught four mackerel—pretty small ones, but still; also, something Jake thought might be a pollack and a very ugly thing they didn’t know the name of and threw back. The younger children played running-up-and-down-and-not-falling-in, all except for Joey, who seemed quite happy to sit quietly by Stella’s side as long as Stella let her hold the rod from time to time.
    There was a lot to be said for being an only child, Jake thought, watching the others running up and down.
    Then he remembered. There was this huge thing in his life, so huge that he couldn’t even keep it in his head. He wasn’t an only child anymore. He wondered what the daisies did on cool days like this. Snoozed, perhaps. Which was probably what Daisy was doing right now. Babies really were not all that terribly interesting.
    And then one fell in.
    There was a yelp, and a splash, and everyone rushed to the edge and pointed.
    Jake