and stashed them in her purse.
Watching the children, she saw that Madison, who didn’t need the warning, was looking far more worried than Dylan was. He was staring at her with what she could only interpret as puzzlement. He gave a small nod, and she guessed that was all she was going to get.
She’d done what she could. All she could do now was pass the information on to Ryan and let him take it further.
“Are you thinking of a milkshake, Madison?” she asked.
“You can’t go wrong with chocolate,” Dylan advised, and just like that, the tension was broken and they were back to normal again.
Cassie was relieved beyond measure that she’d been able to manage the situation. She realized her hands were shaking and she put them under the table so the children wouldn’t see.
She’d always avoided fights because it brought back memories of the times when she’d been an unwilling, helpless participant. She recalled fragmented scenes of bellowing voices and screams of pure rage. Smashing of dishes—hiding under the dining room table, she’d felt the shards sting her hands and face.
Given the choice, in any fight, she usually ended up doing the equivalent of hiding away.
Now, she was glad that she’d managed to assert her authority calmly but firmly, and that the day hadn’t turned into a disaster as a result.
The tearoom manager hurried over to take their orders and Cassie started to realize how small this town was, because she also knew the family.
“Hello, Dylan and Madison. How are your parents?”
Cassie cringed, realizing the manager obviously didn’t know the latest news, and she hadn’t discussed with Ryan what she should say. As she was fumbling for the correct words, Dylan spoke.
“They’re fine, thank you, Martha.”
Cassie was grateful for Dylan’s brief response, although she was surprised by how normal he’d sounded. She had thought he and Madison would be upset by the mention of their parents. Perhaps Ryan had told them not to discuss it if people didn’t know. That was probably the reason, she decided, especially since the woman seemed to be in a rush and the question had only been a polite formality.
“Hello, Martha. I’m Cassie Vale,” she said.
“You sound like you’re from America. Are you working for the Ellises?”
Again, Cassie winced at their collective mention.
“Just helping out,” she said, remembering that despite her informal agreement with Ryan, she needed to be careful.
“So difficult to find good help. We’re very short-staffed at this time. One of our waitresses was deported yesterday, due to not having the correct paperwork.”
She glanced at Cassie, who looked down hurriedly. What did the woman mean by this? Did she suspect from Cassie’s accent that she didn’t have a working visa?
Was this a hint that authorities in the neighborhood were clamping down?
Quickly, she and the children placed their orders and to Cassie’s relief, the manager hurried away.
A short while later, a stressed-looking waitress, who was obviously a local, brought them their pies and chips.
Cassie didn’t want to linger over her food and risk another round of chitchat, as the restaurant was starting to empty out. As soon as they’d finished, she went up to the front desk and paid.
Leaving the tearoom, they walked back the way they had come. They stopped off at a pet supplies store where she bought more food for Dylan’s fish, which he told her were named Orange and Lemon, and a bag of bedding for his rabbit, Benjamin Bunny.
As they were heading toward the bus stop, Cassie heard music and noticed a crowd of people had gathered in the cobblestone town square.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Madison noticed the activity at the same moment Cassie’s head turned.
“Can we have a look, Cassie?” Dylan asked.
They headed across the road to find that there was a pop-up entertainment show in progress.
In the north corner of the square, a three-piece live band was playing. In the opposite corner, an artist was creating balloon animals. Already a line of parents with young children had formed.
In the center, a magician, formally dressed in a smart suit with a top hat, was performing tricks.
“Oh, wow. I absolutely love magic tricks,” Madison breathed.
“Me, too,” Dylan agreed. “I would like to study it. I want to know how it works.”
Madison rolled her eyes.
“Easy. It’s magic!”
Just as they arrived, the magician completed his trick, to gasps and applause, and then as the crowd dispersed, he turned to face them.
“Welcome, good people. Thank you for being here on this lovely afternoon. What a fine day it is. But tell me, little lady, are you not a bit cold?”
He beckoned Madison forward.
“Cold? Me? No.” She stepped forward, half smiling in wary amusement.
He held out his empty hands and then moved forward and clapped them close to Madison’s head.
She gasped. As he lowered his cupped hands, in them was a small toy snowman.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
He handed her the toy.
“It was on your shoulder all along, traveling with you,” he explained, and Madison laughed in amazed disbelief.
“So now, let’s see how quick your eyes are. This is how it works. You bet me—any amount you like, as I move four cards around. If you can guess where the queen lands, you double your money. If you can’t, you leave empty-handed. So, would you like to place your bet?”
“I’ll bet! Can I have some money?” Dylan asked.
“Sure. How much do you want to lose?” Cassie rummaged in her jacket pocket.
“I want to lose five pounds, please. Or win ten, of course.”
Aware that a new crowd was gathering behind her, Cassie handed Dylan the money and he paid it over.
“This should be easy for you, young gentleman, I can see you have a quick eye, but remember, the queen is a wily lady and she has won many battles.
“Watch carefully as I deal four cards. See, I am placing them face up, for total disclosure. This is almost too easy. It’s like giving the money away. The queen of hearts, the ace of spades, the nine of clubs, and the jack of diamonds. After all, as they say about marriage, it starts off with hearts and diamonds, but by the end all you need is a club and a spade.”
There were roars of laughter from the audience.
The magician’s allusion to marriage going bad had Cassie glancing nervously at the children, but Madison didn’t seem to have understood the joke, and Dylan’s attention was fixed on the cards.
“Now, I turn them over.”
One by one he deliberately flipped the cards face down.
“And now, I move them.”
Swiftly, but not too fast, he shuffled the four cards. It was a challenge to follow but by the time he stopped, Cassie was fairly sure that the queen was on the extreme right.
“Where is our lady queen?” the magician asked.
Dylan paused, then pointed to the card on the right.
“Are you sure, young sir?”
“I’m sure.” Dylan nodded.
“You have one chance to change your mind.”
“No, I’ll stick with that one. She’s got to be there.”
“She’s got to