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nothing. And I thought of the pier at Yarmouth that I hadn’t ever been on and how much I would have liked to do all of those games like the one where you brought the hammer down as hard as you could and the thing slid up and hit the bell and showed how strong you were. I also thought how frightening James Dix looked when he talked about wanting to make me do things.
    Well, we had to come home, I said at last. Because Lottie fell in.
    James smiled.
    Fell in what?
    She fell into the lake. The boating lake. She walked right in and the water was higher than her head and she got a mouthful of tiddlers and our father had to pull her out. She was ever so upset and her clothes were sopping wet. Father put his coat around her but we had to come home in case she got a chill. She was only one year old at the time, I added. It wasn’t her fault.
    James laughed.
    Maybe I’ll take young Lottie to Yarmouth, he said. If you won’t come with me. Maybe I’ll take all the little kiddies and show them what a good time really is.
    I looked at him. I realized I didn’t like the way he talked about the kiddies.
    How long are you staying here? I asked him. What I mean is, when will you go?
    He was still laughing about the kiddies but that stopped him. So as not to look surprised, he stuck his hands in his pockets. I saw him shrug.
    I don’t know how long. What does it matter? Just as long as your father wants me, I suppose. Why, Eliza? Why do you want to know?
    I felt my heart start to race.
    He doesn’t want you, I said.
    What?
    He doesn’t want you here, James. Don’t you see? He’s just being kind. My father is a very kind man and he feels very sorry for you, that’s all.
    Now at last he looked quite angry. His face grew pale and I saw him swallow hard.
    Why would your father feel sorry for me?
    I tried to shrug.
    Because of how you’ve no family or work and you’re all alone in the world and all that.
    He rubbed at his hair. He seemed to be thinking hard about this.
    I’m not alone in the world at all, Eliza. You’re quite wrong about that.
    Who’s your family, then? Where are they?
    That’s none of your bloody business.
    I wanted to laugh then, but I decided not to. I thought again of that day by the sea at Yarmouth and how happy we’d all been even though we hadn’t gone on the pier. And I thought that even if I didn’t like James very much, I ought to feel very sorry that he didn’t have any of what I had—family and memories and small brothers and sisters and always the happy possibility that one day something good or interesting or new might come along.
    But still my heart was thumping.
    We don’t know anything about you, I said.
    His face grew careful.
    Who is it that says that? Does your father say that? Does your mother?
    I shook my head.
    It’s only me who’s interested. And I suppose Jazzy and Frank and Lottie are quite interested too.
    Not the twins?
    The twins are only interested in each other.
    And Honey?
    Honey? It made me shiver that he knew all our babies’ names.
    Honey’s just a baby, I said. She doesn’t even know to be interested in things yet.
    He seemed to relax.
    One day, Eliza, I’ll tell you my whole life story and then you’ll be sorry.
    Why will I be sorry?
    Because it’s a very sad one and if you’ve any heart at all inside that pretty little breast of yours, it will make you feel ashamed to have been so unkind.
    I looked at him. I didn’t know if I was being unkind or not and I wasn’t sure that I cared.
    I’m sure your life story is very sad indeed, I said. But I’m also sure that it’s none of my business.
    And because I’d had enough, I began to walk away. But as I walked, he called out to me and what he said next made my heart jump.
    It’s called the High Striker, by the way, Eliza, he said.
    I stopped.
    What? I said, blushing to my roots. What is?
    That