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descriptions of her latest ailments as soon as they sat down. The subject of her only child’s art never took longer than two minutes of the one-hour visit and, over the years, the artist had gotten used to nursing her work within the privacy of her own breast.
    There was even some pride, admittedly, in knowing that few people understood the minuscule, surrealistic paintings. Only a buyer with an unusual eye would appreciate mermaids lying before church altars or the safety offered to an egg by warm, brown earth. But the egg series was to be put on hold, thanks to Roper’s invitation, and a Jamaican series was to take its place.
    â€œA free vacation.” Penny snorted. “I’m totally green, you know, thinking of you being in the Caribbean in the middle of winter.”
    â€œAnd the sea’s right there, at the end of a path.”
    â€œHow’d you get this invitation, anyway? I know you mentioned it, but—”
    â€œI don’t know why I tell you anything, Penny Clutterbuck.” Sarah took a slow sip of tea, relishing the suspense she had few opportunities to create.
    â€œGet on with it.”
    â€œNaomi represents Roper in the UK, and he was in the gallery one day and we started chatting. Actually, he was chatting and I was listening. He kept looking at my paintings and asking me if I didn’t want to paint something larger than four-by-fours, like a bloody teacher or something, and I finally got upset because he kept pressing me, and as I was walking away he called out something about paying my ticket to Jamaica and putting me up if I painted one large painting. You can’t paint Jamaica small, he said. Had a rather arrogant tone, too.” Sarah shrugged. “I said no, thank you, of course, but Naomi was standing right there. She started going on about how wonderful a Jamaican series would be.” Sarah drained her cup and filled it again from the teapot. “No way out, really.”
    â€œLucky bugger, you are. Don’t even know the man’s full name and he’s paying for your ticket, plus board and lodging.”
    â€œYes, but it’s sort of like holding me hostage, isn’t it? No return ticket until he approves of one of my paintings.”
    â€œSuppose he doesn’t approve of anything and you’re stuck ?”
    Sarah ran a finger around the lip of her teacup. “He’s rather a character, I think, but he strikes me as a fair sort. When I’ve had my holiday and painted what I want to paint, I’ll just give him the painting he wants and get done with it. In the meanwhile, my expenses will be taken care of in Jamaica, and your cousin will be renting my room here until I come back. No harm done.” She hunched her shoulders forward and hugged her arms. “The great adventure, right?”

CHAPTER FOUR
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    S ay that again!” Shad said. He pushed himself up on one elbow, Beth’s arm still on his hip. The unexpected evening of romance had descended into a web of manipulation.
    â€œSo that is why you left the sandwich on the dinette table—”
    â€œWith the crust cut off, the way you like it.”
    â€œâ€”and the nightgown and perfume, because you want to work in Port Antonio ?”
    â€œWhat wrong with that?” Beth asked, almost innocently.
    â€œJust because Jamaica get a woman prime minister, all you women think you can—”
    â€œWhy you going on so?”
    â€œYou have four children to look after, a baby to nurse, Ashanti with her problems, a garden in the back to tend, market on Saturday to sell your vegetables—and you want to get a job? You don’t have enough work to do here?”
    He dropped back on the pillow, his head on his arm. Above him, the ceiling was streaked by the neighbor’s porch light sneaking in above the curtains. “Who going to take care of the children? I working mornings at Mistah Eric’s bar and evening shift until all hours, so