Part 183

At Rartigillichal:

Manouche *wanders through the house, not quite sure what to do with herself. Blake has only been gone for an hour or two, and she’s already missing him. She wishes now that she had gone with him, though he told her that he probably would be so busy they wouldn’t have a lot of time together. And she can’t deny that she does feel rather tired. Her condition is so unpredictable, she’s wary of any extended time away from Dr. Viland. She wracks her brain trying to think of suitable amusement, then brightens as she thinks of music. She goes to the sitting room, where she last saw her mandolin, finds, it, sits down and starts to pick out a tune. A movement from above catches her eye, and she grins as Wilko flies into the room* Ah, there ye are, mate. I know how music draws ye.

Wilko *perched on the back of the sofa, flaps his wings, sings* ‘Willy WONka – Willy WONka – the amazing chocolatier’ …

Manouche *rolls her eyes* That again? I thought we got that one outta yer head. Reckon it’s true what they say, th’ classics endure. *laughs as he cocks his head at her* I could sure use a visit with Willy an’ Madame right about now. By th’ powers, I miss me brother an’ sis. I hope they’re sound, them an’ that brood o’ theirs. Imagine their surprise if they was t’ learn o’ me condition. *she pauses, continues playing a simple melody* Y’know who I should talk to … Kat, that’s who. After all, she’s ‘ad a healer baby, an’ she would sure as hell sympathize with th’ special needs of a pirate in th’ family way. *makes a face, looks at Wilko* Fancy, mate, no rum till it’s over! An’ even fer a time beyond that, if th’ child ain’t bottle fed. *she shakes her head, but smiles dreamily. Despite her concerns and the mystery around it all, the knowledge that new life is growing inside her is an entrancing thought*

Wilko *squawks* Mind the shovel! Mind the shovel! *speaks in Kat’s voice* “Manouche, I swear, one o’ these days … BAM!!”

Manouche *laughs* Aye, ye do remember Kat, don’t ye? It’s a pity me condition didn’t ‘appen simultaneous with hers, innit? We could’a commiserated, we could’a joined in on some special songs jus’ fer pirate mums .. *starts strumming chords, sings*

What do ye do with a pregnant pirate

Sicky in th’ mornin’ …

Cannae serve booze te a pregnant pirate

Give ‘er Shirley Temples …

Wilko *loudly* ‘EAVE HO, ME HEARTIES, YO HO HO!!

Manouche *nods approvingly* That’s th’ spirit! I think ye jus’ wrote our chorus. *she stops as she hears a knock at the front door, then the door opening, followed by a voice*

Alifi: Manouche! Are you here, dear?

Manouche *calls to her* In th’ sittin’ room, Alifi, c’mon in. *smiles as Alifi enters the room* How’s everythin’, luv, how’s Chírilo?

Alifi: I came to fetch you. *mysteriously* Madame Chírilo requests your presence.

Manouche *arches a brow* Ye don’t say … what’s that all about? Am I dressed proper?

Alifi *laughs* You’re fine. I took Chírilo to Three Rivers while you and Blake were away. I wanted to show her the town, I knew she would enjoy being immersed in Rom culture again.

Manouche: Ah, I’m glad ye ‘ad a chance to take ‘er. Poor lil’ thing, she must miss ‘er family somethin’ fierce. We should make a point o’ takin’ ‘er there regular. Did she love it?

Alifi *nods* She flipped for it. We wound up doing quite a bit of shopping … well, come over to the guest house, you’ll see.

Manouche *nods, sets down the mandolin, stands up. To Wilko* ‘Ang onto them ideas till I return, Wilko mate, I think we ‘ave a hit on our hands. *joins Alifi at the doorway* Lead on, luv. *she grins as Wilko makes a chirping sound; she and Alifi leave, head over to the guest house*

At Bournemouth House:

Candy *sitting cross legged on the floor, waiting for Chiana to get into her extended arms. Chiana pulls herself up and takes a few hesitant steps towards Candy, her eyes are shining with excitement and her whole face is glowing. She has been up to training walking since she discovered it for the first time, with the obstinacy of her both parents ... Suddenly she stops, falls to the ground on her bum and lets out a howl. Candy starts up and grabs her. She has been falling dozens of time, and every time she has just got up and gone on.* What is it Chiana? Are you getting tired?

Chiana *looks at her with the mature eyes that always frighten her* Da-da! DADDA! *then she starts to cry*

Candy: Oh no, I don't think anything has happened to your Daddy. I am sure he will be home any minute. *but she takes anyway Chiana into the protecting circle around her crib.* He will be here, trust me. *She feels a sting of conscience. She is protecting Chiana from her own power, but is she at the same time preventing her from healing her parents? Is she doing the wrong thing? Should she just let her exert her power of healing? Wouldn't that be the best for the whole family? Does she even have the right to make any choices for Chiana ... What if something bad is happening to the Inspector, and she, Candy, leaves him in peril, not letting his daughter help him ... She needs to talk to someone.*

Chiana *rubs her eyes with her tiny fists, then she looks at Candy.* Da-da. Ma-ma. 'tuga?

At Rartigillichal:

Alifi *brings Manouche into the guest house, to a small parlor off the living room. Manouche notices with interest that a beaded curtain has been hung across the doorway. Alifi stands by it, announces* Manouche Roussel Blake to see Madame Chírilo.

Chírilo *inside the room* Send her in!

Alifi *pulls the curtain to one side, motions for Manouche to enter* You may go in. *winks*

Manouche *grins, enters the room, adjusts her eyesight to the candlelit room after being out in the sun. She sees that the room’s walls and tables have been covered with beautiful Gypsy fabrics, their vibrant colors and patterns rich in the glow of the candles. A subtle incense is burning, and behind a small, round fabric-draped table sits Chírilo, wearing authentic Gypsy girl clothes. Manouche smiles at the young girl’s serious expression, her black hair tied up in a bandana, gold earrings peeking from underneath, a strand of coins around her neck* Madame Chírilo, I presume …

Chírilo *motions to the chair on the other side of the table, facing her* Please sit down, Mrs. Blake. I can tell you what you want to know. *pauses as Manouche sits down* Would you prefer the tarot, or … *she slides a crystal ball on a base to the center of the table* … or the crystal?

Manouche: Hmm, let’s ‘ave th’ crystal point o’ view, luv.

Chírilo: As you wish. *she reaches behind her, pulls up a large scarf, drapes it over her head, peers mysteriously into the crystal* I see your life is filled with great happiness after overcoming great awful stuff …

Manouche *hides a smile, leans toward the crystal* Aye, that’s about th’ size of it.

Chírilo: … you’ve come into fortune, some fame, an’ you have a wonderful man in your life. *she peeks at Manouche, who nods enthusiastically* He lets you drive his car sometimes, but he always worries when you’re out with it too long … he walks around sayin’ ‘where is she? She shoulda been back by now’ …

Manouche *laughs* Well, that I didn’t know! So ye are a seer after all, ain’t ye?

Chírilo *brings a finger to her lips* Shh! You’re known for talkin’ a lot …

Manouche *indignant* Hey! *frowns as she hears a snicker from the doorway* That’ll do, Alifi! *looks at Chírilo, who’s gazing at her* Apologies, luv, go on.

Chírilo *looks again into the crystal ball* I see your family is growing …

Manouche *warmly* That it is. First with th’ addition of one remarkable lil’ girl …

Chírilo *drops character for a moment and smiles shyly; then quickly looks back to the crystal* Yes, a girl, an’ now, a baby on the way …

Manouche *gently* Aye, but remember, good Madame Chírilo, it’s like I explained t’ ye, there are a lot of unknowns ‘ere … we don’t even know if we’ll be able t’ keep him … or ‘er …

Chírilo *nods* Him, the baby is a him.

Manouche *raises eyebrows* Is that so? *she plays along, leans closer, looks at the crystal* Y’ can see that, can ye? What else d’ ye see, luv?

Chírilo: Yes, the baby will be a boy … an’ he’ll live here, happily ever after. An’ he’ll get his choice of rooms, except he can’t have Raven’s, an’ he can’t have mine.

Manouche *laughs* That sounds fair. *she sits back, nods, impressed* I must say, ye put on quite a show, darlin’. Anythin’ else ye can tell me ‘bout our future?

Chírilo *peers at the ball once more* Your daughter Chírilo will become a famous fortune-teller, an’ she’ll be on late night talk shows when she’s older an’ stays up later … Mr. Blake’ll be a famous poet lariat—

Manouche: Poet Laureate. *smiles*

Chírilo: Yeah, Poet Laureate. An’ because of all the good stuff you do, like the orphans’ home an’ stuff like that, they’ll build a statue of you in the park, next to the statue of Commander Portsmith …

Manouche: Well, that WILL be a miracle! *chuckles* I reckon th’ Commander’ll ‘ave somethin’ to say about that …

Chírilo: … an’ the baby’ll grow up to be a handsome inspector, just like his dad.

Manouche *smile fades, she looks at Chírilo quickly* Wh-what’d ye say?

Chírilo *looks up, eyes wide* Uh-oh …

Manouche *stares at her, calls out* ALIFI … *she continues to stare at Chírilo as Alifi quickly enters the room*

Alifi *approaching them, looking worriedly at Manouche* I – I’m sorry, bird … Chírilo and I, we … well, it was an accident …

Chírilo *dark eyes huge* I’m sorry … I wasn’t s’posed to say nothin’ … *looks ready to cry*

Manouche *grips the table, feeling almost as if she may faint, then notices how upset Chírilo looks. She recovers somewhat, holds her arms out to her* Come ‘ere, soulbird … *Chírilo stands up, comes to her; she embraces her, speaks softly* S’all right, ye didn’t do anythin’ wrong .. *she kisses the top of her head, looks at her, smiles* That were a bloody brilliant readin’ ye did. How ‘bout ye stay ‘ere fer a time, an’ rehearse s’more on it, or practice th’ tarot cards? I need t’ speak with Alifi. *squeezes her reassuringly* Don’t look so sad, now, everythin’s sound. Savvy?

Chírilo *nods, sniffs, looks at her and Alifi* I’m awful sorry.

Alifi *looks uncomfortable, but smiles* No worries, sweet. *she watches as Manouche kisses Chírilo on the cheek, stands up; they leave the room, go into the living room, sit on the sofa* Well … quite the little fortune teller, isn’t she?

Manouche *eyes her sharply* Right, no messin’ about, tell me what ‘appened.

Alifi *swallows* We … we went to Three Rivers, like I said, just for a day of sightseeing, like you and I talked about doing with her sometime. You and Blake were sailing, Elliott and Dawn weren’t here, it seemed like a good way to spend the day. So we went, and she had such a fine time, and she decided she wanted to surprise you with a fortune teller’s room when you got home. We shopped, had a little lunch, it was a lovely day. *pauses* Then we ran into Lionel and Bette Viland, and Lionel mentioned that he had some forms he’d forgotten to give you, would I mind bringing them home for you to sign. Just routine stuff. I said no problem, it would save him having to mail them to you. *she stands up, starts pacing* We went back to his office, Chírilo stayed in the reception area with Bette, and I went back to Lionel’s room. As he was looking for the forms, I … I happened to see some paperwork on his desk, and … before I knew it, I’d read it, and I knew exactly what it was. *turns to Manouche* I didn’t mean to pry, it was … it was just there in front of me, and … I saw the name Abberline …

Manouche *lowers her head, brings her hands over her ears, moans* Oh, by th’ bloody powers … *she’s quiet for a moment, then looks at Alifi again* H-how … how did Chírilo—

Alifi: Lionel saw me reading it, and he tried to sweep it away, but we both knew I’d seen it, so we … we talked a little about it. I’m afraid Chírilo overheard us. *she comes back to the sofa, sits next to Manouche, puts a hand on her arm* The child is so smart, dear … she’s … she’s like Raven, she’s smart beyond her years, and she’s seen a great deal of strange things from her own Romani experiences. Remember how it was with you? How even when you were very young, things that would’ve seemed very odd to most people weren’t so strange for the Rom? It was like that for me, too, when I was growing up. Chírilo’s not a dreamer or anything like that, but she’s—

Manouche *nods, holds up a hand* It’s all right, luv, it’s all right, if ye say she’s sound with all this bizarre information, I believe ye. Anyway, I already know these things about ‘er from my talks with ‘er. It’s why I were so keen t’ adopt ‘er in the first place. Who else could understand ‘er better than another Rom? An’ it’s why I weren’t hesitant t’ tell ‘er about me condition after I told Mr. Blake. She took it quite well. She were so understandin’ about me bein’ a surrogate. *she stands up, starts pacing, like Alifi had* But … blimey, t’ be knowin’ th’ father’s identity even before Mr. Blake an’ I know!

Alifi: I know, bird, I’m so sorry. I tried to explain it to her, I told her that we mustn’t let on we know, that you and Blake weren’t ready to learn that information yet. She swore she wouldn’t say anything, but … well, she’s just a child …

Manouche *shakes her head, returns to the sofa, sinks down next to Alifi* Blimey … it’s th’ Abberlines’ baby? How can this be? Why me an’ not Kat? *looks at Alifi anxiously* D’ye suppose somethin’s wrong with Kat, that she couldn’t carry this one this time an’ somehow had it transferred t’ me? Crazy as that sounds, I can see where it’s possible. But why would she do somethin’ like that without talkin’ to me first? Or did it ‘appen out of Kat’s control, possibly ‘cause th’ pair of ‘em are on th’ outs these days? Ye know how sometimes things ‘appen around Kat, with all ‘er powers suppressed, as it were. *runs a hand through her hair, exasperated* I don’t even know where Kat is, I assume she’s at Bournemouth House.

Alifi *shrugs* I wish I knew what to tell you. I … *pauses, throws her hands up helplessly* Honestly, Manouche, in all my years in Fiji, I never came across anything quite like this.

Manouche *sighs deeply* I reckon I can say g’bye to th’ hope that we would be able t’ keep th’ child. I know Kat wouldn’t be keen on that, an’ Fred Abberline would never leave one o’ his children t’ be raised by someone else. I never seen a man who were so fond of a child as he is Chiana. Once he’s aware of another baby on th’ way … who knows, it may bring ‘im an’ Kat together again, if they ‘aven’t already patched things up between ‘em *smirks* an’ if he ain’t too freaked out at th’ thought of his an’ Kat’s egg incubatin' in another nest. *she gently rubs at her slightly swollen belly* I’ve got t’ talk to Fred an’ Kat right away.

Alifi: Do you want me to come with you?

Manouche *shakes her head* No, ye’d best stay ‘ere with Chírilo. I’ll ring Bournemouth first, but if they ain’t there, I’ll take a cab into town an’ find ‘em. This ain’t somethin’ that can wait. *brings a hand up to her eyes* Bloody ‘ell, I wish Mr. Blake were ‘ere …

Alifi: Manouche, I’m so sorry …

Manouche *looks at her, smiles wanly, puts a hand on her arm* Alifi, luv, don’t worry. It were a mistake, that’s all. Mr. Blake an’ I was goin’ to find out th’ child’s parentage sooner or later anyway. At least we know now th’ child is of good stock, right? No surprise demons. *she leans close, hugs Alifi, adds* Considerin' how long we've been mates, an' considerin' all ye’ve done fer me, I see this as a minor transgression. Je ne tu oublierai jamais.

Alifi *murmurs* Merci, petit rêveur. *she watches as Manouche stands up, leaves the room, walks outside, closing the door softly behind her*

Manouche *arriving back at the main house, enters, shuts the door, leans against it, shaking her head, stunned. She goes to the sitting room, sees Wilko, who starts to sing:*

Cannae serve booze te a pregnant pirate

Give ‘er Shirley Temples …

Manouche *sighs* More’s th’ pity on that’un, mate. *she turns from the room, goes to prepare for her visit to Bournemouth House*

At Stratford Castle:

Jeanne *blinks. She has come to render Mistress Fiore a favor and gets treated like a naughty little kid.* I beg your pardon, but I am a professional and I know how to handle different kinds of old artifacts. *she feels very confused under her stare. She gazes at the documents baffled, not knowing what to say* But ... but I just found it and I haven't faked anything ... And *she know she is starting to sound like a whiny kid but she can't help it* and isn't it natural to go to the Commander, after all, she is the one who practically runs the city, isn't she, I mean, now that the Vice-Mayor is away, and I kind of suspect, that this document would belong to the town of Deppville. *with wide eyes* I just thought you might be interested. I haven't heard anything about any treasure ... *but the instant she utters the words, her brains make a connection. She must go and research it ... maybe she found the hidden treasure of the Spaniards and their secret mine* I can leave this photocopy with you. I haven't any use for it, nor the parchment. How much would you pay for it? I don't think it is a fake. It has been lying for ages in that cave.

Mistress: Ah you see Miss Missoni she looks after present day Deppville I own old Deppville and what you find is rightfully mine and not hers my ancestors lived on this land and I tend to keep it that way so what ever you find down there belongs to me. *looks at her in disgust that she wants to charge her for it* I'll give $1 for the photocopy and for the parchment $35 *laughs* well you really don’t know the Portsmith then do you do you think all that china she owns is really.

Jeanne: What? 35 dollars for an old rare parchment? No way. It is worth much more than that. And besides, I am sure that Commander Portsmith is richer than you. She might bid more. And I don't think your china is real either.

Mistress *slaps her really hard* Oh well you are more stupid than I think you were now you just confirmed it. Now who do you think gives her the blasted money when she runs out she comes running here looking for more. Ah would she bid more please the only thing she bids more from is from her pirate lover. Now as for the china it is real it's been handed down my family for centuries *walking back over to her draw she unlocks it and takes something shiny out of it* Now the spanish gold *she shows the necklace to Jeanne* now this is some of the treasure that is rightfully mine. *looks at jeanne who is still recovering after her slap* I'll shall give you this much Miss Missioni on one condition you send this to the Commander. *she heads back over to the drawers* Of course you charge her and if you speak of the gold you shall receive another slap and something a lot more painful.

Jack *having slipped into the room, rummaging through Mistress Fiore’s chest of drawers and pocketing the occasional shine, looks up, startled; makes a distasteful face* ‘Pirate lover’? *shakes his head, mutters* There really is no privacy in this town. Men bathing under the cold, hard, adjustable viewfinders of binoculars ... pirate lovers being discussed in broad daylight like so much small talk ... A clandestine rendezvous doesn’t stand a chance under such scrutiny. *finishes his pillaging, softly closes the drawer* I wash my hands of this weirdness. *steps over to the window, slips out almost completely silently – till he loses his grip on the vines along the wall and falls to the shrubbery below with a heavy thud* OWW!!

Jeanne *follows him with mouth wide open, laughs at the Mistresse's rage upon the intrusion, but when Jack steps closer to the window, she sees her chance, gets fast up and leaves the horrible lady and horrible castle, muttering to herself imitating her* ‘My family has had it for centuries’ ... Maybe it's time to put a stop to that ... *And without hesitating, she returns to Commander Portsmith*

Mistress *shouts for Sweeney* Sweeney *Sweeney who is still looking as evil as ever fresh from his latest kill* Ah my love that thing that was there why don’t you go and play with her my love *snarls* I am sure you will know what to do with her. *laughs*

At From Hell Court:

Abberline *leads Isabella down shabby stairs to the den he frequents, the air is stale with smoke and the couches are as dirty as before. Nothing has changed. It is like time has stopped. He finds his favorite place in a dark corner, orders a pipe from the boy, who prepares it for him. He sits down and gestures for Isabella to take a seat beside him, looking at her with brooding eyes, challenging her* Have you ever tried this? Just take a light draught. If you dare.

Isabella *looks at the pipe a little suspiciously, then takes it hesitantly and takes a light draught from it. She leans back on the sofa and closes her eyes as she feels the drug taking effect. Soon the world seems to have disappeared and her mind fills with images … images from the past … *

She’s sitting across from her father in the back room of his bookstore; her heart is filled with desperation and remorse as he looks at her imploringly … She shakes her head in protest, tears in her eyes* No, Dad. I can’t let you do that!

Charles *takes her hand* Yes, you can. You have your whole life ahead of you and I cannot, I will not, watch them take you away. I know you never meant to kill that man and I will not have you go to prison for the rest of your life for it. I want you to live your life. Find your happiness. *Looks at her firmly; his mind has been made up* No one saw you, no one will ever have to know. I will go down to the station and turn myself in.

Isabella *tears streaming down her face* Dad, no …

Charles: *softly* You have to live with the guilt of taking another man’s life … that’s punishment enough.

Isabella *eyes still closed; she’s fighting to return to the present, but it’s as if the drug or the memory is holding on to her. Tears stream down her face as she whispers over and over* I’m sorry, I’m so sorry …

Abberline *feels an instant regret of introducing Isabella to opium, what the hell was he thinking about? His own miserable failure and the hurting wrist ... He wraps his arms around her and presses her against his chest, stroking her hair, mumbling* Isabella ... Wake up ... *Isabella hears the faint sound of someone saying her name; slowly she returns to reality and opens her eyes, but the memory is still clear in her mind and she leans against his chest sobbing. He tightens his hold of her, continues stroking her hair, then he tips her head slightly upward, brushing gently the tears away from her cheek* Isabella. I shouldn't have brought you here. I am sorry ...

Isabella *manages to calm herself and stops crying; sniffs a little and clears her throat* It’s OK … you couldn’t have known … *sits up a little* I … I should … I better go … *starts to get up, but she’s still woozy from the opium and has to sit back down* Maybe I’ll wait a few minutes …

Abberline: It usually calms me down, but I should never have brought you here. *the intense dark look has returned into his eyes after holding her so close.* I can walk you home. You'd better take rest of the day off.

Isabella *smiles faintly* I should’ve remembered how I felt the one time I tried a joint in college … *suddenly remembers her promise to Sarah and Barrie; starts to get up again* Oh, I can’t, I promised … *feels the room spinning again; runs a hand through her hair as she sighs in resignation* OK, take me home.

Abberline *smiles, takes his hand from the slip, throws it away and helps her up* Fortunately for you, it is not far to go. Just lean on me. *he throws some coins to the boy* Tell your master that the stuff wasn't worth even that. *and he takes Isabella out, enjoying the feeling of her body leaning against his, and maybe even more for her having to accept help and support from him. He stops at the door.* Can you open the door yourself?

Isabella *nods* Yeah, I think it’s starting to wear off … *she digs into her pocket and finds her keys, unlocks the door and enters leaning on him a little less. She falls into a chair and looks at him with a little smile* Well, that was stupid! And I can assure you, I won’t addicted to that horrible stuff.

Abberline *smiles back at her* I wish I could say the same. Take your time and rest. I am going home to see my children, and give time for this damned wrist to heal. I'm taking the day off tomorrow. *he leans closer to her, then even more closer, feeling again the scent of her hair, and he lightly brushes her cheek with his lips, whispering* I expect you to do all the reports tomorrow, Martin ... *and not caring to wait for any response, especially if it should happen to be a slap, he retreats, waves at her from the door, goes out and slams the door after him*

At Bournemouth House:

Manouche *slowly approaches the house, having walked from Rartigillichal. She had decided at the last minute not to take a taxi, figuring the walk would do her good as long as she took her time. Now, even though she’s a little tired, she’s glad she did it – the weather is perfect for walking, and she hadn’t walked leisurely through the woods and along the river in a long time. It’s a beautiful summer evening, and as she passed Chez Roux she considered going to the beach to watch the sunset. But she knows she needs to get on with the task at hand, she must talk to Kat and Abberline. She’s a little nervous, but overall she feels fairly calm, and she wonders over this a bit, surprised that she’s not more worried. Somehow, after she got past the initial shock of finding out she’s pregnant, she has managed to feel surprisingly calm about everything. It’s as if she’s been granted extra resources for facing adversity, to better maintain the health of the little one inside her. She swallows; what she’s about to do may put those resources to a supreme test. She can’t even begin to guess how Kat and Abberline will react to this news. She steps up to the door, glances at the window to the side, straightens her shoulders, reaches a hand out and rings the bell*

Candy *takes Chiana and goes to open the door* That's not him, unless he has lost his keys ... *she opens the door and sees Manouche* The Inspector and Kat, they are not at home. Would you like to wait for them?

Chiana *reaches out her hands for Manouche* 'tuga! 'tuga!

Manouche *smiles at Chiana* ‘Ello, miss sunbeam … *looks at Candy, nods* Per’aps I will, mate. S’good t’ see ye again, I don’t know that I’ve laid eyes on ye much since … *she thinks of the escape from Marchand’s, shudders slightly as she steps inside* I don’t want t’ be a bother, so please go on about yer business, I can jus’ wait fer a time in th’ parlor. Matter o’ fact, I’d be more’n happy to take Chiana off yer hands … *she smiles as Chiana reaches for her, takes her in her arms. She looks at Candy* D’ ye know how long they’ll be out?

Candy: I can't say ... You never know. The Inspector went to work, and Kat ... I don't know where she is. *sighs* I'll go and do the laundry.

Chiana *as soon as Candy is gone, fixes her eyes on Manouche, lifts up her hand as if to show it to her* Da-da.

Manouche *watches Candy go, carries Chiana into the parlor* So, then, miss, what’s all this about ‘tuga, an’ Da-da? I don’t s’pose we could be fortunate enough that he took yer mum t’ Tortuga, as a reconciliation trip of sorts? No, I think not. *she sits down on the sofa, Chiana in her lap, takes the child’s little hand in hers, holds it gently; then her fingers tighten around it slightly as she senses something … a scuffle of some sort, followed by a painful snap of broken bone – then it’s gone, as quickly as it came* Oh, blimey … *she looks at Chiana, who’s staring at her seriously, looking so much like Raven she shakes her head at her* Yer dad’s injured ‘imself somehow, hasn’t he? Still … I get th’ feelin’ he’s safe … *looks at Chiana again* … an’ I reckon ye’d be more upset if he weren’t, wouldn’t ye? *she hugs her close* Ye can only do so much fer ‘im, lil’ love. He’ll be home soon, he never can stay away from ye fer long.

Chiana: Dada ... *cuddles against her and coos, but then she gets impatient and starts to wriggle, wanting to go on with her walking exercises.*

Manouche *laughs, holds her up* All right, m’lady, as ye wish. *she rises from the sofa and helps Chiana stand up, holding her hands and walking with her a couple of steps; then she carefully lets her go, watches in amazement* Look at ye, so grown up … *she watches Chiana walk to the edge of the coffee table, grasp it, turn and look proudly at Manouche. Manouche sits down on the floor, fairly close to her so she won’t have to go far, holds her arms out to her* Brilliant, love! Now come back t’ me …

At Isabella’s:

Isabella *sort of half-smiles at Abberline as he waves and leaves; she can still feel the sensation of his lips brushing against her cheek. Then shakes her head and mutters* Alright, Isabella, snap out of it! You are not going to have fuzzy feelings about this one … no matter how gorgeous he is or how good that little kiss felt. *Continues talking to herself as she rises and goes into the kitchen* It’s nothing but a physical attraction; you can ignore that … it’s been done before. *Takes a bottle of water from the fridge and drinks; she goes over to the desk and sits down determined to research into the Andersons’ background. She turns on the laptop and gets to work, trying hard to erase the image of Abberline’s intense brown eyes as well as the thought of her father.*

At Cavalcanti’s condo:

Guido *reposing on the new dark purple leather sofa, sipping a latte* What are we going to do with her?

Lady Ainesworth *leafing through magazines sitting onthe edge of the wide designer desk. Her cappucino waits beside her hat and her gloves.* She is good material, Guido. We must style her so that she will attract his attention from the first moment.

Guido *wryly* In that case, dress her up as an Ethnic pirate or a simple blonde tart.

Lady Ainesworth *glares at him* This is a very serious matter. *she turns her gaze upon Mercy, who sits uncomfortably on a white Viennese chair with her hands in her laps and her eyes cast down respectably, but her blush gets deeper when they go on talking about her.* She has to look innocent and respectable, but at the same time attractive.

Guido: But I already told you that DeeDee could ...

Lady Ainsworth: DeeDee won't come even near her. I don't want to turn this precious little girl into a tart and a slut. That's what DeeDee is, Guido. I don't understand how you can be so blind about your own daughter.

Guido *getting annoyed* My DeeDee is a good girl! I know that she dresses a little provocatively, but ...

Lady Ainsworth: I bet she undresses even more provocatively. Enough of this. Now, shall we start with the hair. Those curls are too childish, they have to go.

Guido *shrugs* A blonde rinsing would do good. Some golden highlights? But keep the hair long. Men love that. *he grins*

At Bournemouth House:

Abberline *walks briskly straight home, past all alluring dens. Isabella is such a complex being, she intrigues him immensely. At one moment she is the tough woman, the reporter who has seen it all, and in the second moment she is moved to tears ... She has been throwing hateful words at him, and nevertheless, she willingly let him kiss her, well, at least till he got carried away ... He opens the door and sees Chiana taking unsure babysteps, falling right into the arms of Manouche. He forgets everything else, even the aching wrist while looking at them, both their faces so happy and carefree. Very quietly he moves right beside Manouche and crouches down* Bloody hell, when she did learn that! Come to Daddy, love! *Chiana squeals with delight and crawls to him, grabs his knee and stands up, looking him in the face, and he feels totally melting under her dark large eyes*

Manouche *jumps slightly as she sees him suddenly next to her, laughs* Aye, now her life is complete … ‘er daddy’s come home. *she watches, smiling, as Chiana rushes to Abberline* I believe this is a fairly new development with ‘er. Candy can prob’ly tell ye more. *her smile fades as she thinks about what she has to tell him, then she remembers something else and she looks at him with concern* Are ye sound, Fred? Chiana were fussin’ earlier, an’ I sensed somethin’ were amiss.

Abberline *hides the pain he feels when Chiana grabs his both hands* Oh, it's just the wrist again. Had a little accident at work, nothing more. I'm fine. Just look at her, she is already walking! Isn't it early for that? *Chiana lets go of his hands and falls down, and he starts.* Don't scare me, girl. *he looks at Chiana concerned, but Chiana laughs at him, then she touches his hand again, and he feels like a warm current rushing through his fingers from hers, and the pain recedes.* You never cease to surprise me. What brings you here, Manouche?

Manouche *scratches her head* It may be a bit early fer walkin’, but ye never know with Chiana, she ain’t like other babies. *she watches Chiana touch Abberline’s hand and notices some relief mixed with the wonder in his face; smiles* Ah, so she’s healin’ whatever was ailin’ ye. That’s good. Th’ thing with healer babies is, ye ‘ave to temper their efforts so they don’t exhaust themselves. At th’ same time, ye don’t want to suppress their natural instinct to heal, savvy? That’s how they grow as healers, s’like any other important aspect of their growth … *grins* like walkin’. *she pauses, takes a deep breath* I … I come t’ talk to ye about somethin’ very important, an’ very strange. I’d never involve ye if it weren’t necessary, but … well, it can’t be helped. Although it’d be best t’ talk to you an’ Kat both, together, about this. Where is she, luv?

Abberline: I probably keep her exhausting her powers ... Something's wrong again? *looks down, avoiding Manouche's gaze.* I have no idea whatever where she's gone to. She just dashed out, and left just this ... *he recalls that she mentions Metrea's child, his child, in the note, and that's something he decidedly isn't going to tell Manouche.* Never mind. Just a note. It seems that you have just me here to talk to. What is so strange? *he smiles* Have you been seeing more Soothsayers and witches? Any weird people? *but his smile fades when he finally looks at her.*

Manouche *lowers her head, wondering if she should wait for Kat. Thinks to herself, this was a mistake, it would’ve been better to sit down with Mr. Blake, Kat and Abberline all at once and discuss it, perhaps even with Dr. Viland present. She looks up, thinking she’ll put it off for another time; then she sees Chiana gazing at her intently, and it’s almost as if the child knows what’s going on, though she couldn’t, really – or could she? Manouche meets her dark, serious eyes, nods slightly* Right. *looks at Abberline* Well … y’see … blimey, this ain’t easy, I don’t even know where t’ start. *she reaches into her pockets, seeking a cigarette before she remembers that she’s stopped smoking for the time being; then her fingers brush the envelope she had brought with her, the paperwork from Dr. Viland, verifying the baby’s parentage. After Chírilo’s little blunder, she had found the envelope and torn it open, needing to see the proof with her own eyes. She’d brought it with her, thinking it would be good to be able to show it to Kat and Abberline. She pulls out the envelope, looks at it for a moment, hands it to him* ‘Ere y’ are, mate. That’ll explain every— well, no, it won’t explain everythin’, but it’ll explain jus’ about as much as I know meself. I’m rather hopin’ Kat can explain th’ rest … like how this come t’ be in th’ first place, an’ how it all come t’ me. *she takes Chiana in her arms so he can read the note; Chiana gurgles comfortingly, wraps her arms around Manouche’s neck. Manouche holds her close, watches Abberline anxiously*

Abberline *takes the envelope without a word, sits on the sofa and opens it, starts to read, stops when he reaches his own name* Whose baby? What kind of crap is this? Why is my name mentioned here? *his mind just refuses to take in what his eyes see* It doesn't explain a thing to me. *he throws the paper on the table, feeling too shocked to understand anything*

Manouche *gently* I know how ye hate th’ supernatural side o’ yer relationships with Kat, Raven, an’ me as well, Fred, but we ‘ave to face th’ facts, impossible though they seem. It’s all true. Somehow, I’m carryin’ yer child. It’s as if I’d agreed t’ be a surrogate mother to th’ pair o’ ye. That statement is absurd fer so many reasons, I don’t even know where t’ begin. Fer starters, why on earth use me? Tell me what ‘appened. Did th’ pair o’ ye conceive, an’ Kat decided t’ that extent that she didn’t want t’ go through another pregnancy? She always said she were done with it. *pauses* Fer another thing, if this were what she decided t’ do, if indeed this were a conscious choice on ‘er part, then why didn’t she talk t’ me about it? I’d ‘ave gladly acquiesced had I known I were capable of it. But I … I didn’t know … *she feels tears spring to her eyes; oddly, they’re happy tears, and she can’t help but smile as she looks at Abberline, her face glowing* I … I don’t know if I ever told ye about that part o’ me life, mate .. y’see, I didn’t think I could ‘ave children. That’s another reason this is all so astoundin’. T’ be honest, I’m … I’m so in awe an’ wonder at th’ fact that I ‘ave a child growin’ inside me … I don’t even mind that it won’t be mine t’ keep. ‘Cause o’ course I know ye’ll both be wantin’ yer darlin’ lil’ baby. *balancing Chiana on her hip, she puts a hand on Abberline’s arm* But Fred, why didn’t either o’ ye tell me? I’ve always told ye an’ Kat both, ye can tell me anythin’. *she removes her hand slowly when he doesn’t respond, cuddles Chiana, who coos at her, almost as if to say “Well done” – she grabs a lock of Manouche’s hair in her chubby fist, more gently than usual. Manouche smiles at her a little, then turns to Abberline, concerned about his silence* Fred … by th’ powers, ye look pale, mate. N-no worries, savvy? We’ll all manage through this.

Abberline *slowly* You are carrying my child. *he smirks, looking at her happy face* A surrogate mother.* He stares at Chiana for a long time* Yes. I do have a baby on the way, but ... *he glances at her. How can he tell her that it's a child he doesn't want to know about. A mistake. He lights a smoke to get more time, with Manouche's eyes on his. How very ironic. She is pregnant with his child, and the only thing he feels is an aversion to it. He combs nervously his hair back with his fingers. Anyway, she will know, she will find it in his mind when he is off guard* It's not Kat.

Manouche *continues to look at him, at first not understanding, then not quite believing what she hears* It … it’s n-not Kat … *her smile slowly starts to fade, and she’s surprised as a wave of fear washes over her; what is there to fear? She slowly sits down on the sofa next to him, tightens her arms around Chiana, for the first time feeling that she needs the healer baby’s powers for herself* W-well then … if it ain’t Kat’s child … *Chiana is suddenly very quiet in her arms, and she presses herself against Manouche’s body, moving lower as if to protect the baby inside her. Despite Manouche's confusion, she is fascinated to notice that Chiana’s movement has staved off a feeling of nausea that had suddenly started to accelerate. She swallows, tears fill her eyes as she brings herself to ask, deeply fearing the answer, but she asks – she could figure it out, she could read his thoughts, but she wants to hear it from him* … wh-whose is it?

Abberline *draws a deep breath, puts out the cigarette* Metrea. Metrea is the mother. *he lights another smoke, not daring to look at her*

Manouche *stares at him in disbelief, Chiana still pressing against her* M-Metrea … but … but Fred, how did … *her voice trails off, and her eyes widen with horror as a memory suddenly comes back to her with alarming clarity. She opens her dreamer thoughts to Abberline so she can share it with him, she feels it’s important for him to know, even though she still doesn’t completely understand it all herself. She’s back in the dimly-lit room with the large mirror, gazing at her reflection, which is soon joined by a little girl, Chiana. She sees and hears it all again, as if it’s being repeated right there in the cosy parlor of Bournemouth House:*

I – I’m sorry …

It ain’t yer fault, sunbeam …

You can do it … but you shouldn’t have to …

D-do what? Chiana, tell me …

*She flinches as she sees in her mind’s eye Metrea replace Chiana in the mirror, saying something she can’t understand, then laughing cruelly … followed by the crash of the mirror, and her stumbling in the rubble as she extricates herself from what she soon recognizes as the smouldering remains of Ravenwood. The recalled vision fades, and she brings a hand to her mouth as Chiana snuggles insistently against her, comforting her. She moans* Oh by th’ bloody powers, what fresh hell is this?? *she looks at Abberline, her eyes anguished* Why, why is this ‘appenin’? Why did ye do it ... an' why's she involvin' me?? *she feels one of Chiana’s little hands reach up to touch her face; she takes it in her hand and kisses it, still amazed at the baby’s ability to soothe her in her state. She feels certain that without Chiana’s comforting right now, she might bolt from the room screaming* Oh, Fred, what are we t’ do? A child o’ that monster, me first inclination would be t’ terminate it … but … *tears spill down her cheeks* … but it’s yer child, as well. How could I do that t’ yer baby? Oh, Fred ... *and she wraps her arms around Chiana and lowers her head, weeping*

Abberline *looks down, as if seeing something interesting in the pattern of the rug, but he winces when Manouche shares the vision with him.* You mean, how could I? *he repeats Kat's words, more to himself than to Manouche* In the end she'll have your Faith ... *he swallows* I was mad at her, I wanted to hurt her, so I slept with a tart at From Hell Court. It was Metrea in disguise. *he steals a quick glance at her, wanting to wrap his arm around her, but he doesn't dare to touch her. He forces himself to keep his gaze on the rug. A woman in tears is something he just can't take, but he doesn't know how to console her. He has swept the happiness from her face.* I swear I didn't know it was her. *he smirks* Despicable, isn't it. *he tries to keep his voice steady and calm* There is only one thing to do. Terminate the pregnancy. I don't want to have that child, and I definitely don't want you to give birth to it. Terminate it. *then he remembers Blake. Why isn't he here? Has he managed to wreck their marriage?* What about Blake? How does he take it, especially when it is my child you are carrying ...

Manouche *swallows, tries to calm her anguish so she can carefully pay attention to everything he’s saying. Of course it had to be a trick on Metrea’s part. She sniffs, wipes her eyes* M-Mr. Blake’s away on a job, of sorts. H-he knows about th’ baby, but … we neither of us knew th’ identity of th’ parents. I ‘appened t’ find out by accident after he’d left. Wh-when I thought it were yers an’ Kat’s … well, I were a bit disappointed ‘cause Mr. Blake an’ I had discussed keepin’ th’ child ourselves if th’ parents didn’t want it an’ if it weren’t a result o’ … amria … a curse … *pauses, tries to calm her trembling* But I also figured, at least this way we know th’ child’s heritage, an’ … well, by th’ time I arrived ‘ere t’ tell ye about it, I’d pretty much decided that it’d be me pleasure t’ help bring a child o’ yers into th’ world, knowin’ how ye love a large family. I took it as … as a sign that per’aps ye an’ Kat had reconciled, an’ … *she stops talking as he continues to look away from her. Feeling miserable, she holds Chiana close, kisses the top of her head; murmurs to Abberline* How ye must loathe th' very sight o' me right now. Metrea’s a devil t’ use us all in this manner, curse 'er black heart. Yer right, there’s no other answer. Th’ child is unwanted, an’ it could grow t’ be a dangerous demon. I don’t reckon th’ nourishment of a dreamer surrogate would counter all that black magic. I’ll … I’ll get rid of it.

Abberline *after a lengthy pause* No, I am loathing myself. Only myself. It was so easy for Metrea to use me ... I'll bring her down for doing this to you, I promise, I'll wring her neck. How different it all had been if it wasn't her ... You having my child. I would have loved you even more for that, and we could have shared all the joys of being parents ... It's me you should curse. *finally he dares to move closer and look her in the eyes* Please, Manouche, don't cry, I can't stand seeing you like that. *carefully he lifts his arms and embraces her, Chiana still sitting in her lap*

Manouche *leans against him, her arms wrapped around Chiana* I won’t curse ye, luv, this weren’t yer doin’. I know ye never would’ve gone with Metrea without some trickery involved, no matter how angry ye were with Kat. As fer ye bein' with anyone t' spite Kat, that's between you an' her. I'll only say I'm sorry it's come t' that, I were hopin' ye could make it together. I know ye both love each other. *pauses, glances down at her belly* I … I’d like to ‘ave been able t’ do this fer th’ pair o’ ye, an’ to ‘ave shared in th’ joy of it all. B-but, I see now, it can’t be, we can’t let it ‘appen. Nothin’ good can come from Metrea. It ain’t like Raven, or Chiana ‘ere … they ‘ave Marchand in their lineage, but they ain’t neither of ‘em a direct result of ‘im. This … *she stops, knowing how terrible Abberline feels about it all, she can feel his misery in their shared heartbeat. Anything she says will only make them both feel worse, and to no good purpose. She swallows, and with a great effort she stops her tears, controls her sobbing. She looks up at him* S’all right, Fred, I’ll … I’ll be all right. We’ll put an end t’ this, we’ll stop Metrea, whatever she has in mind, that bloody monster, an’ there’ll be no more worries about it. *she tries desperately to think of something soothing to say* At least … at least fer a time I’ve ‘ad a chance t’ experience expectant motherhood. I never thought I’d know what it were like. I’d love to ‘ave seen it through if everythin’ about it were right, ‘cause … *her face glows for a moment* … by th’ powers, it’s th’ most glorious feelin’, new life beginnin’ inside. *her smile fades, and a bit of Blake’s verse comes to her* Some are born t’ sweet delight … some are born t’ endless night. *pauses, looks down at Chiana, who’s very still but resting comfortably against her, the dark eyes wide open but calm* Chiana Abberline, yer healin’ powers are right smart. Cheers, sweet. *she kisses Chiana’s head again, adds softly* I reckon I should go.

Abberline: Don't go yet. *tightens his hold on her as if to prevent her from leaving* I don't know what plans Metrea has, except to hurt Kat, or do the bidding of Marchand, but still ... I didn't know you couldn't have children. That must be a horrible tragedy for you, and now this ... *he looks at Chiana who cuddles content in Manouche's arms, and for the first time since he heard of Metrea's child, he is beginning to have doubts.* And yet .. I was so sure than nothing good can come from a heritage such as I have, I wanted to stop my father's line, and what good can come from Marchand's blood? Just think about it. And then take a look at Chiana and Raven ... There's nothing of that bad blood in them. I don't know what to do ... *he starts to see a little glimmer of hope. He can't force her to terminate her pregnancy, she will never again be able to have a baby, and the mere thought that she is carrying his baby intoxicates him, to be able to put his hand on her belly and feel his baby moving ... * The decision is up to you. Maybe your Gypsy magic is stronger than Metrea's witchcraft? Is this really going to be my third child destined to be unborn? First, Victoria's son, and then Kat's miscarriage … *he tries to think, but he feel totally confused, Metrea on the other side, and on the other side, a child, a child that maybe he could learn to think about as his and Manouche's, oh gods, something he couldn't even have dreamt of in his wildest dreams. And then there is Kat. How will she react?* Manouche, what about Kat? She knows about Metrea and me, but how will she take this? Manouche, tell me what to do ...

At the Security office:

Isabella *after doing some research online without finding much on the Andersons, decided the best approach would be to look in the police-database for any criminal records and if there even exists a kidnapping case. She enters the dark and quiet Security building; she knows her way around the office and doesn’t bother turning on the lights in the hallway. She heads straight for her office and turns on the computer; deciding to get something to drink while it loads she goes back out in the hallway to the vending machine. Isabella puts in a few coins and presses the button for the soda she wants and as usual the machine isn’t quite working as it should and gives her the wrong one. Mutters quietly* Stupid machine! *Jumps as she hears a voice behind her*

Donnie: We really do need to get someone to look at that thing …

Isabella *turns around and looks at him reproachfully* Don’t ever do that again! *Frowns* What are you doing here at this hour anyway?

Donnie *grins* Sorry, didn’t think you’d scare so easily. And I would love nothing more than to go home, but we’re short-staffed and between murders to solve and paperwork … doesn’t look like I’ll be going home anytime soon. Why are you here?

Isabella *opens the soda can and takes a sip* Research … I promised Sarah and James that I’d look into that couple claiming Emma is their child. I did what I could from home, but I need the database.

Donnie *nods* I see … if you want, I could give you a hand. I still have connections in the FBI, might be an idea to see if they have anything on them. I could use a break from the paperwork anyway.

Isabella *breathes a little sigh of relief* Thank you! I haven’t used the database yet, so I’m not entirely sure how to find my way around it.

Donnie *smiles* It’s no problem.

At Sarah’s Books:

Corso *admiring the book, to Ava* That's for sure, it really is hand painted. I see you love books too. *he moves closer still* Many people have tried those acts you are looking at, all it takes is a young nimble lady. *he grins at her* If you are interested in old literature of this genre, I can tell you that I have some precious little books, all in hand painted detail, in my little hideaway quite near. Would you be interested in taking a closer look? I assure you, you won't be disappointed. *his grin widens*

Ava: Ah a man after my own heart nimble you say *grins back at him* I would love to see these precious books of yours Mr *pauses* hmm I would imagine that that collection would be a very large collection no *grins and she stands up clutching the book* and I am assuming you know how to look after your collection as a collection like that must be very rare indeed.

Corso *grins* Believe me, I know how to take care of my books.

At Bournemouth House:

Manouche *wipes her eyes, stares at Abberline in astonishment* D-do ye mean t’ say … y-ye’d be willin’ to take a chance? *she squeezes Chiana so hard, the child makes a sound something between a giggle and a little squeak, and Manouche has to laugh a little* So sorry, lil’ miss! *she looks at Abberline again* It’s true, there ain’t th’ slightest indication of th’ bad side of th’ family with Raven an’ Chiana. An’ … I hadn’t thought before that ye’ve already lost two children before they ‘ad a proper chance. *she thinks quietly for a moment, her mind reeling. Despite her fears about Metrea, she so wants to have the baby, as long as Abberline wants it. But she must make him understand the situation completely* Fred, this ain’t my decision, savvy? It has t’ be yer decision. It’s yer child. *she puts a hand on his arm* I’m carryin’ it, but it ain’t mine. So before ye make yer decision, let me explain everythin’ as me doctor told it t’ me, so ye can ‘ave all the facts. *she takes a deep breath* Th’ child will likely ‘ave characteristics from yer bloodline, as well as Metrea’s … well, let’s amend that an’ call it Kat’s bloodline, that’s more palatable. *smiles slightly* After all, it ain't jus' Marchand an' Metrea. There's Kat, an' Ama, she were a wonderful woman. So along with th’ magic from Kat’s side, it’ll inherit some dreamer tendencies from yer side. Now, th’ doctor told me that, as a surrogate, I’ll no doubt contribute to th’ child’s characteristics somewhat, as well … so that could mean enhanced dreamer attributes, as well as some o’ me other traits. *she grins a little mischievously* In short, be careful what ye wish for, mate … ye could ‘ave a lil’ gypsy pirate on yer hands.

Chiana *squeals* ‘TUGA! *waves her hands, her little face beaming. Her healing work is done for the moment, now she’s happy again. She looks at Manouche and Abberline both, an almost smug grin on her face*

Manuoche *arches a brow at her* Ye ain’t helpin’! *turns to Abberline again* Th’ doctor also told me that there’s a chance th’ child will ‘ave little to nothin’ from me. So that may not be an issue. When we first discussed th’ possibility of it bein’ th’ result of dark magic, th’ doctor admitted that me powers might override th’ dark ones, in a manner o’ speakin’. So in answer t’ yer question, it ain’t a guarantee that me magic is stronger than Metrea’s. But it’s a possibility. Especially combined with yers an' Kat's family's good traits. An’ … there’s also th’ issue of th’ snakebite, th’ venom. Th’ doctor assures me that it ain’t nearly far enough advanced in me system t’ be a problem to th’ child, an’ I know he wouldn’t say that unless he felt sure. He insists that overall, me health an’ th’ baby’s health, all is sound, an’ purely physically speakin’, there’s no reason in th’ world that I should ‘ave any trouble. But … I want ye t’ consider everythin’, luv, before ye make up yer mind. It’s a big decision. *looks down at Chiana for a moment, continues* As fer Kat … if she already knows that a child has resulted from yer time with Metrea, then … I don’t see why she would be any more upset with me carryin’ it than with Metrea carryin’ it. Matter o’ fact, I’d imagine she would prefer it, of th’ two of us. After all, I’m a mate … whereas Metrea wishes ‘er harm. *frowns, mutters, almost to herself* Why is Metrea lettin’ this ‘appen? Why would she want t’ lose control over th’ baby? It don’t make sense. *she shakes her head, looks at him again* If ye want me advice, I’d say it may be worth takin’ a risk, considerin’ how beautifully Raven an’ Chiana ‘ave turned out. Speakin’ fer meself, I’d be happy an’ proud t’ bring this child into th’ world fer ye. *her face starts to glow again* I would promise t’ take good care of it, ye ‘ave me word. No drinkin’, no smokes, no piracy, none o’ that till it’s all over. Jus’ safe at home, takin’ it easy. *she looks at him very firmly* But only if yer sure ye’ll want it once it’s ‘ere. There’s little worse fer a child than knowin’ it’s not wanted by its parents. So if ye ‘ave too many doubts, or if Kat don’t want ye t’ go through with it, then let’s call a halt to it ‘ere an’ now, save us all a great deal o’ heartbreak. *she looks at Chiana again, who claps her hands together; she smiles, looks at Abberline, adds gently* Ye can talk it over with Kat if ye wish, luv. We don’t ‘ave to decide this minute, there’s still time. But please, don’t wait too long. If I ‘ave to terminate it … *she brings a hand to her middle, swallows, a catch in her voice* … then th’ sooner th’ better. Savvy?

Abberline *listens very quietly* I can't say. I have come to understand that heritage isn't such a simple and straightforward thing as I used to think. I - I have to get some time to think over. As for Kat, I don't think she cares much what I do. Over and over she tells me how she loves me, and then she flees ... Maybe it's all the same to her. I don't even know where she is. You have to think about yourself. You and I, we are both married. Do you think that anybody would for a single moment believe that you are having my child by magic? They are going to talk. Can you take it? Or - or do you plan to raise the child as yours and Blake's? After all, why would you want to ruin your reputation? Maybe it would be better that way. I don't know if I can ever look at the child without seeing Metrea in it ... *he takes absentmindedly Chiana from Manouche, and her warm little body gives him comfort.* I don't know if I want the child, but bloody hell, I have to confess that you having my baby is what I want. I know you don't like to hear me talking like that to you, but I can't help it, that's the way I feel. This is wonderful. This is horrible. *Chiana starts to wriggle, obviously there has been enough talking for her, and Abberline puts her gently down. She starts immediately to crawl towards the bookcase. He looks at her body, then he puts his hand on her belly.* It isn't showing yet ... But you look so radiant, you have never been as beautiful as now. *he lets his hand rest on her.*

Manouche *listens soberly* Fred, I don’t give a toss what other people think or say. *grins a little* I quit worryin’ about that a long time ago, long before I came t’ Deppville. It’s nobody else’s business. An’ if we ever need t’ prove it’s yer child an’ not mine, we ‘ave th’ paperwork from me doctor. It’s easy enough fer us t’ prove that I’m no more than a surrogate. Me only concern is th’ feelin’s of th’ four of us … you, Kat, Mr. Blake an’ meself. I've told ye how I feel about it. I can speak fer Mr. Blake … I know he would say if we’re all sound with this decision, he will be, too. He said before that if th’ child were to ‘ave parents waitin’ fer it, then he said we could feel good about givin’ it a good healthy start in life, even if it would go on t’ another couple t’ raise. If you an’ Kat want th’ baby, I feel sure he’ll be fine with helpin’ bring it to ye. He’s very fond of both o’ ye. *she frowns* He’ll be worried ‘bout Metrea, too, but … I know ‘im. If everyone else is keen, he’ll support th’ decision. Nature versus nurture, it’s th’ age-old question, innit? *she blushes slightly when he speaks of her having his baby, glows at his compliment* Ah, Fred, luv … I do care fer ye so much, ye know that. *she brings a hand up to his face, smiles* An’ like I said earlier, when I thought this were somethin’ I could do t’ bring ye another child an’ save Kat th’ risk of another miscarriage … I felt very glad that I could do that fer ye. *despite her shyness at his touch, she feels a little sense of pride when he places his hand gently on her belly. She knows she’s only the tiniest bit swollen, and she finds herself wishing she were larger already. The thought makes her laugh* Bloody ‘ell, how Kat would laugh at me! I’m a romantic fool, Fred, I even romanticize ‘avin’ children. I know it’s no picnic, I’ve delivered enough of ‘em t’ see that fer meself. But … at th’ moment, I can’t help but feel excited about it. Funny how it don’t matter how many times I’ve played th’ midwife, I never seem t’ tire of th’ miracle of it all. *she's quiet for a moment, looks at him* Ye’ve ‘ad a lot t’ process in one day. Let's leave it be fer now, till yer able to talk t' Kat. Sit her down, th' pair o' ye 'ave a good, warm, heart-to-heart, find out once an’ fer all if ye ‘ave a future together. Find out how she feels about ol’ Manouche lendin’ assist in expandin’ this family o’ yers. If she’s against it, then we ‘ave our answer. If she’s sound with it, then let’s go from there. I’d still insist on ye raisin’ it, though. It's yer child, that's only right. An’ who knows, once it’s ‘ere, ye may not see even a hint o’ Metrea. Jus’ imagine, mate, a new baby. But … if we bring it into th’ world an’ ye an’ Kat change yer minds … *her glow subsides a little* … it would be bad, but … there’d be a good home fer th’ lil’ one somewhere, either with Mr. Blake an’ me, or per’aps even its Uncle Gili. So we do ‘ave options. *she looks down at Chiana, who’s still crawling* Th’ one thing that keeps botherin’ me is, why did Metrea do this? I can’t get that out o’ me head …