my first question," Ingrid pointed out.
"It's safer for everyone if you don't know where I'm headed," Joanna replied, slipping her ivory wand into the pocket of her trenchcoat. She hoped to spare her girls the pain should she fail in her quest. It was better if they did not know what she was trying to do. She knew how much they missed him and how much they wanted him back. Of course she knew. She knew what she had done to the family, the irreparable line she had drawn; she had broken them in two, but there was no time for self-pity right then. There was no changing the past. "How was the Wagner yesterday?" she asked instead.
"Oh . . ." Ingrid shook her shoulders. Her older daughter, Joanna realized, was desperately, terribly unhappy about something. She wished she knew how to comfort her, but Joanna was not that kind of mother and Ingrid was not that kind of daughter. Their father had been the one who had been good at that sort of thing. The talking and the listening and the emotional support: it was their father they had turned to when their little hearts were broken or when they had happy news to share.
"Well . . . have a safe trip, wherever it is you're going," Ingrid mumbled.
"Take care, dear," Joanna said, giving her daughter a close hug. "Watch out for Tyler, will you?" She couldn't bear to say good-bye to the boy and so she had done the cowardly thing, slipping out in the middle of the night because it would be too painful to have a long and drawn-out farewell. No matter; with luck she would be back soon. She was only leaving to keep the town and everyone in it safe.
Dan Jerrods's family ran the only taxi service in town, and he was waiting for her in front of the house with the car, an old Buick with bucket seats that smelled like a cigar store. She climbed in the front seat and placed her battered old valise on her lap and Gilly's case on the floor. "Where to, Miss Joanna?" he asked.
"Train station, please, Dan, and hurry."
"Sure thing."
"How are things?" she asked. She liked Dan, one of the nice young men in town who was always willing to lend a hand with their storm windows every winter. Dan gripped the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles were almost white. "Not too good at the moment, Miss Joanna. Amanda's in the hospital," he said. "Sorry to bend your ear about this. I'm just a little worried about her."
"Not at all. I'm sorry to hear that - what happened? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"It's some kind of virus she hasn't been able to kick," he said. "The doctors said they've seen this sort of thing: it's been going around and she should get better soon, but she's on a respirator right now."
"I'll look in on her when I get back," Joanna promised, giving Dan's arm a sympathetic squeeze. "She's in good hands, Dan. The doctors won't fail her."
North Hampton did not have a stop on the Long Island Rail Road so they drove to the nearest stop in Montauk. The station was deserted since it was close to midnight, and Joanna had to reassure Dan that she would be perfectly fine waiting on the platform alone.
Finally the express from New York arrived. She'd board it on its way back to the city, where she'd switch to Metro-North to get to New Haven. She waited for the crowd to disembark, and noticed a young, good-looking couple among them. They were arguing. The girl was annoyed and the boy was soothing her. No, she was wrong, Joanna realized, from their conversation it was clear they were not a couple, she thought, only friends.
"This is such a waste of time," the girl said. "We should go back to Cairo instead. I doubt I'll even find the town - there's some kind of protection spell around it."
"You said yourself that they might know something. The old ones, to help you. Besides, we've already tried once and failed; there's nothing to do in Egypt if we don't get this information. Plus, I have a feeling we'll get lucky - things are never as hopeless as they seem to be," the boy said.
"What are you looking at?" the girl said suddenly, addressing Joanna.
Joanna recoiled - until now she had not noticed that there was something different about the girl.