Public Secrets Part 41

veins, but he was a prince. No matter how careful Bev was, the

paparazzi managed to snap new pictures of him on a weekly basis. And the

fans clamored for more.

They sent him truckloads of toys which Bev meticulously s.h.i.+pped off to

hospitals and orphanages. Offers poured in for endors.e.m.e.nts. Baby food,

a line of children's clothing, a chain of toy stores. They were

unilaterally refused. Through all the attention and adulation, Darren

remained a happy, healthy toddler, who was currently enjoying, with

relish, his terrible twos. If he had known about the attention, no

doubt he would have cheerfully agreed he deserved it.

"This is the castle," Emma told him as she arranged blocks. "And you're

the king."

"I'm the king." He plopped down to bounce on his padded bottom.

"Yes. King Darren the First."

"First," he repeated. He knew very well the meaning of that word, and

enjoyed being put there. "Darren's first."

"You're a very good king and kind to all the animals." She pulled the

ever faithful Charlie closer. Dutifully, Darren bent to give him a wet

kiss. "And here are all your good and courageous knights." Meticulously

she set up dolls and stuffed toys. "There's Dad and Johnno, Stevie and

P.M. And here's Pete. He's, ah ... prime minister. This is the

beautiful Lady Beverly." Pleased, Emma posed her favored ballerina doll.

"Mum." Darren kissed the doll in turn. "Mum's pretty."

"She's the prettiest lady in the world. There's a horrible witch after

her, who locked her in a tower." Emma had a vague image of her own

mother, but it pa.s.sed quickly. "All the knights go out to save her."

Making galloping noises, she pushed the toys toward the doll. "But only

Sir Dad can break the spell."

"Sir Dad." The combination of words struck Darren as so funny he rolled

and smashed the castle.

"Well, if you're going to go around knocking down your own castle, I

give up."

"Ma." Darren wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "My Ma Ma. Let's

play farm."

"All right, but we have to pick up the blocks or prissy Miss

Wallingsford will come in and say we're noisy, messy children."

"p.i.s.sy. p.i.s.sy. p.i.s.sy."

"Darren." Emma clapped both hands over her mouth and giggled. "Don't say

that."

Because it made her laugh, he said it again, at the top of his voice.

"What a word to come out of a nursery." Not sure if she should be amused

or stern, Bev stopped in the doorway.

"He means prissy," Emma explained.

"I see." Bev held out her arms as Darren ran to her. "That's a very

important r, my lad. And what are you two up to?"

"We were playing castle, but Darren liked knocking it down better."

"Darren the Destructor." Bev nuzzled against his neck until he squealed

with laughter. His little legs locked around her so that she could hold

him in his favorite position. Upside down.

She hadn't known it was possible to love so much. Even the pa.s.sion she