Kelly had been unnerved by Kevin's sudden disappearance, as she had been too occupied with her young charges to see him leave. However Lucille soon told the girl that her companion had left the park - she couldn't say why - so Kelly thanked her and then took the kids to the nearest café for ice cream.

Janine was grateful for the company when the small party arrived back at the Firehouse just after two o'clock. On seeing her the first thing Kelly did was to reach into one of her numerous pockets, pull out a strange assortment of small objects and hold them out to Janine in offering.

"I keep finding these in my pants," the girl explained. "I don't think it's quite in keeping with Conchita's sense of humour, so most of it probably belongs to you guys."

"Yes, this is the ink from my printer," Janine confirmed, picking an object at random. "I was wondering what had happened to that."

Kelly had tied Lucy to a table leg to keep her out of trouble, and now the dog was howling madly. The inexorable pet owner looked at her hostess through loose strands of fair hair and said, "If you can put up with the noise my dog makes I'll stay and help you keep an eye on these kids."

"Would you?" Janine looked immensely relieved. "That'd be great... um, if you're sure you don't mind. Say, where's Kevin?"

"I don't know, he went off somewhere."

"Hmm." Janine pulled a face. "That doesn't sound like Kevin."

"I know, it's a pretty weird thing to do," Kelly agreed. "Especially when you consider that he left me with a baby and three brats." This she said with an I-don't-mean-it grin at the three older kids. "I guess it must be pretty important or he wouldn't have just left."

She seemed about to say more, but her speculations were stopped by Eden tugging on one leg of her combats and asking sweetly, "Can we have a rock concert?"

Kelly's face broke into a grin. "You bet," she enthused. "Somebody go find a hairbrush."

* * *

When Eduardo opened the door to the apartment he was greeted by Pagan hissing at him from the top of a high bookcase. Kylie, on seeing this, was immediately overcome with concern. She gazed anxiously up at her precious cat and mused out loud, "Maybe he's got worms."

"He hasn't got worms," Eduardo returned with as much patience as he could muster. "It's the ghost. Look, I'm getting strong PKE readings over here."

He was standing in the doorway to Conchita's bedroom. Kylie instantly forgot about Pagan's Mister Hyde episode and went to examine Eduardo's findings for herself. There was definitely something in the flat with them, and Kylie's brow creased with concern as she wondered what could be done about it. Eduardo, seldom one to betray his feelings, seemed less anxious. He took the short walk to the next bedroom and then called out to Kylie, "There's quite a strong reading in here as well."

Kylie followed Eduardo to their bedroom and carefully scanned the room for any indication that something was amiss. Visually everything seemed normal; and yet the unnerving chill remained all around them, and their PKE meters were jumping excitedly. Kylie pointedly switched her meter off and returned to the bookcase to try and coax Pagan down.

"It's us - my family, I mean," Eduardo ventured from inside the bedroom.

"Hmm?" Kylie was only half-listening, wondering if Pagan could be persuaded to come down with fish paste.

"Well," Eduardo went on, "I slept here last night, and Conchita was in there for about four hours. Scan where Rose was sleeping."

In silence Kylie did as she was told. Predictably the cot was buzzing with PKE activity.

"Now look," Eduardo went on authoritatively. "If we go to Carl's place we'll probably find the same thing there. So... we might as well not go if we already know what we're going to find."

"Ok, so what do we do about it?" demanded Kylie. "It's one of those annoying ghosts that you can't see. How are we supposed to trap it?"

"We might not want to trap it," Eduardo said. "It might be somebody we know."

"Like who?"

"Oh come on, like neither of us knows anybody who died." He was reminded of a chance meeting he had had with Kylie's late Grandma Rose six years before and added, "We need the mass-maker gloves."

"Egon and co. have got them."

"Ok, so how about... we check out that grave?" suggested Eduardo.

"Now that's an idea." Kylie looked suddenly thoughtful and a lot more enthusiastic. "If we do some tests on your father's grave we might be able to find out if his ghost has been doing anything recently."

"That's clever."

"I know," Kylie answered with a smile. "Come on, let's go. Oh, wait a minute," she added. "What about Pagan?"

"Firehouse?"

Kylie shook her head, and with stunningly accurate guesswork she said, "If Kevin left Kelly alone with the kids and we left Janine alone at the Firehouse, Lucy might be there." She didn't bother to explain her reasoning. "Beth would look after Pagan."

Eduardo's expression darkened. He crossed his arms across his chest and said with a childish pout, "Fine, just don't expect me to go there with you."

"Carl will have gone to work by now," Kylie pointed out.

That put things in a new light. With Carl out of the house both Kevin and Carlota probably would have calmed down considerably. If the full-scale blazing family row was forgotten, they might even be able to pick up some more clues about their ghost.

* * *

Just outside the door of Sandy Drake's prison cell, Roland was discovering the mass-maker gloves to be nothing short of useless. Garrett sat idly by, brimming with impatience and becoming more and more desperate to get something done.

"Where's Egon?" he demanded, once his colleague had given up on the gloves and deactivated them. In point of fact Garrett knew perfectly well that Egon was in the Ecto-1 trying to figure out a new plan of action; but asking pointless questions seemed to him better than doing nothing at all.

Fifteen minutes after the failed attempt with the mass-maker gloves Egon was shown in by a uniformed guard. Though renowned for never betraying his feelings in his voice, demeanour or expression, Egon had now taken on a somewhat sickly countenance. Evidently Dr. Spengler was not enjoying his visit to Death Row.

However for the most part he managed to remain cool and collective, and he began in his usual monotone, "I - "

"Hey." Another guard had appeared as if from nowhere and was now addressing the Ghostbusters. "You wanna hurry this up? Drake's got visitors."

Egon nodded at the guard, turned back to his colleagues and tried again: "I think I've come up with a possible solution."

Garrett thought there was a flaw in the way Egon worded this sentence, but he couldn't quite spot it and didn't bother to try and point it out.

"I threw a couple of old books into the car before we left," Egon explained, "and that's what I've been doing all this time. Sorry I took so long," he added.

Roland opened his mouth to assure his boss that no apologies were necessary; but Garrett got in first with: "Just tell us the plan, Egon."

"Well I really don't know how I missed it before," Egon went on. "I guess I was tired. But I've found an incantation that should dispel any spirits, spells or ectoplasmic force fields protecting any one person."

"Should," muttered Garrett scathingly.

"It's worth a try, Garrett," Roland said reasonably.

Fortunately no accessories were required for the incantation to work; it was just necessary for the person in question and the protecting spirit (or whatever it was) to be present. Egon recited a short poetic verse in Ancient Arabic and a flash of light engulfed Drake's cell door. Garrett and Roland both thought this was a little anti-climactic. Egon, on the other hand, hadn't been expecting fireworks, and was satisfied with his efforts.

All three Ghostbusters scanned the room for PKE activity; predictably they found none. The prison guard found that he could walk in and out of Drake's cell with ease, and promptly closed the door. There was a loud, metallic crash and then Sandy Drake was lost to view.

Neither Egon, Garrett nor Roland could bring himself to look upon the face of the solitary man in the prison cell. Nor could they look at the pasty woman and two cheery little boys waiting outside. All preferred not to think of the implications of what they had just done.

During the drive back to Firehouse, Egon found himself thinking of the conversation that he had had with Kylie the day before, concerning this particular ghost's power. He had credited its phenomenal abilities to some connection the ghost still had with its previous life, and he had said to Kylie that the topic merited further research. He would, he decided, get started on that straightaway.

* * *

Beth was more than happy to take care of Pagan, and to let Kylie and Eduardo go over the house with PKE meters. Carlota was happy to see the nervous cat as well, and was able to distract herself from him for the briefest of moments in order to arrange a visit to her younger son and his family on Tuesday. She was careless enough to point out that she would be busy on Monday - being a voyeur at Drake's exe,cution (Eduardo's interpretation of her slightly different wording). This reduced her younger son's spirits considerably until he had left the house.

Kevin was not at home. Though he hadn't told his mother so, not being on speaking terms with any member of his family, he had returned to Central Park in order to rejoin the party he had left there. Not finding them anywhere in the park, he had then hastened to their most likely port of call on leaving: the Firehouse.

Here he found Janine sitting at her desk looking through some kind of file, and Rose near her feet chewing on a stuffed toy. The former acknowledged his presence with a smile, but there was no point in attempting to strike up a conversation as music was wafting at a fairly loud volume from the floor above. Kevin recognised the song as "Bitch" by Meredith Brooks. He could hear Kelly singing along with the music quite clearly, which could only mean one thing: she was staging a rock concert.

Sure enough Kevin found his girlfriend dancing extravagantly on the sofa, singing out of tune with Meredith Brooks to the collection of kids that danced happily on the floor in front of her.

Kelly registered Kevin's arrival, waited for the song to finish and then aimed a slick silver remote control at Janine's impressive sound system. Groans of protest came from the energetic dancers on the floor.

Panting heavily with a broad grin on her face, Kelly spoke into the microphone/hairbrush: "Thank you ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience. I'm very sorry but there will be no autographs. However if you would care to go downstairs our catering department will provide you with some truly excellent milk and cookies. Thank you very much."

Kelly took a bow and then jumped from the sofa; the kids clapped and cheered her and then made a beeline for the catering department a.k.a. Janine. Lucy was ready to go with them, but Kevin placed a restraining hand on her collar as the would-be rock star approached.

"Good concert," Kevin remarked.

Kelly ignored the slightly acerbic compliment and demanded, "Where the hell did you take off to?"

"Well..." Kevin hesitated, wondering how much of the sorry tale he wanted to tell Kelly, and how much she would want to hear. "I think I may have done something terrible."

"Oh?" Kelly forgot her indignation and was immediately overcome with concern.

"You know that Lucille woman and her kids from the park?"

"Yes."

"I don't think it was such a good idea to make friends with her. I'm almost certain she's the sister of the guy who killed my grandfather."

* * *

Between them Kylie, Roland and Egon had over the years conducted a lot of research and accumulated several theories about the relationship between one's grave and one's ghost. What Kylie found now at Alberto Rivera's grave convinced her that his ghost had been active the night before.

"Look at that." She waved her PKE meter under Eduardo's nose emphatically. "There's been some terrific PKE activity going on around here - and not just glowing headstones either. I definitely think his spirit has been active in the last few days." She paused. "Are... you ok?"

Kylie had noticed for the first time that Eduardo was looking a little subdued. On hearing her question he looked up from his feet; he had been staring at them for some three minutes now. Then quietly he said, "I'm fine. It's just a while since I've been here, that's all."

"November." Kylie nodded. She had attended the Day of the Dead celebrations for the last four years and persuaded Eduardo to do the same (at any rate this had helped her relationship with his mother). "Do you want to go?"

"We've got what we came for."

As they walked through the cemetery and enjoyed the summer breeze, Kylie continued to muse aloud about the recent activities of Eduardo's late father. She said half to herself, "I don't understand the glowing headstone and the wind. What time did Kevin say that was?"

"Between three and four in the morning, I think."

"Then he couldn't have been coming or going," Kylie decided, the obscure pronoun referring to Alberto. "I had him before that and Kevin and Beth had him after that."

"Maybe it was scare tactics from whoever's been looking after Drake," Eduardo hazarded, his tone of voice unnervingly neutral.

"Right," Kylie nodded slowly. "I suppose your dad wouldn't have been around at the time to guard his own grave. As Kevin was there anyway, I guess Drake's guy took the opportunity of giving us a message via him to back off."

"That's one possibility," Eduardo said blankly. "But I don't see how we can ever really know."

"We can't, I guess. I'm sorry, honey. Do you want me to stop talking about it now?"

"Just answer me one more question." Eduardo's voice sounded suddenly natural again, and Kylie was relieved. "Suppose we get another visit tonight. Do we just ignore it?"

"Might as well," Kylie shrugged. "I don't see what else we can do."

* * *

After a long walk with Lucy and Kelly, and a tough wrestling match between his thoughts, Kevin decided to tell Kelly everything he had learnt about the fate of his grandfather's killer. After all, she had enquired as to what had become of Sandy Drake, and Kevin had made something of an implied promise to answer her question if he ever found out.

Well, now he had found out, and he thought that talking to Kelly would help him straighten the matter out in his mind. The idea that Drake was being put to death troubled him; he was also most incensed at not having been told about the matter. So as the young couple passed a small café Kevin suggested that they stop; he went inside and re-emerged five minutes later with two cappuccinos. Kelly had taken a seat at a table outside, and Lucy lay on the ground beside her, panting in the heat of the summer afternoon.

The dog lay on the pavement wearing the Labrador equivalent of a stupefied smile, while Kevin told his confidante everything about Sandy Drake, Lucille Welch and the appointment with the electric chair. Kelly was trying not to grimace but failing miserably. Kevin couldn't tell whether she was disgusted by the justice system or just sickened at the idea of a chair designed specifically for the purpose of delivering a fatal electric shock.

"How do you feel?" she asked, when the story had reached its conclusion.

"Oh Kel, that's such a sweet thing to say." Kevin's chin was resting on his hand, and he had adopted a faraway look in his hazel eyes. "Isn't that just like you?"

"So... how do you feel?"

"I don't know."

"Wow." Kelly sat back in her chair and sucked on the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry, Kev, I don't know what else to say."

"Kelly?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

* * *

On returning to the Firehouse, the first thing Kylie did was to find Egon in his lab and get him to tell her all about the Sandy Drake case. She listened to a brief account of the lack of success with the mass-maker gloves, and the final victory over the ghost with the incantation.

"I still don't understand why the ghost was so powerful," Egon mused, "but I have a theory. You see it didn't do anything at all until Drake's execu,tion was arranged. It could be that, if he had some kind of connection with somebody who was desperate for Drake to stay alive, the strength of that person's will may have... I don't know... somehow given the ghost that power. Like I said to you before," he added, "this warrants further research."

"Egon," ventured Kylie, "I really didn't want to be involved in this case but I... kind of did a little research on Drake. His sister was recently widowed."

Egon nodded. "That may account for it."

"I don't see who else could have been responsible."

"His sister would certainly want Drake to live," Egon pointed out. "Maybe she still had some kind of connection with her dead husband." He paused. "Um... Kylie, if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about that now."

"Suits me just fine," Kylie returned dryly. "Tell you what, how about this? No more cases involving prisoners on Death Row. Ever."

Egon nodded approvingly and said, "Suits me just fine."

* * *

It was a great deal of nagging from Carlota that persuaded Eduardo to take Monday off work. He was coping badly, she insisted, and needed to spend time alone with his thoughts... and two small children. However, during a very bizarre role-playing game with Conchita, Barbie, Ken, Action Man, Skeletor and Kermit the Frog, Eduardo soon discovered why his mother had been so keen for him to be at home on that particular day.

At eleven-twenty-five he answered the door to Lisa Fogg: the woman who had spent a year counselling him for grief following his father's death. She had never made any progress with Eduardo, not least because he had felt he didn't need a grief counsellor and had never intended even to try and get on with her. Unsurprisingly he was not particularly thrilled to see her now.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed as he closed the front door, quickly remembered his manners and then opened it again. "Um... sorry, Lisa. What are you doing here?"

"May I come in?"

"Oh... fine." Grudgingly Eduardo showed Lisa into his home. "These are my kids, Conchita and Rose."

Rose was wedged on the sofa between three cushions and seemed quite content chewing on a rattle. Conchita was on the floor trying to break up a fight between Kermit and Ken that had resulted in lewd behaviour towards Barbie on the part of the former. Looking up she flashed Lisa a brilliant smile and said, "Hola!"

"Eduardo, they're adorable!" Lisa squeaked delightedly. Then she addressed Conchita: "Honey, I'll have to introduce you to my little girl sometime."

Eduardo knew Lisa was married, and he had met her husband twice (though Lisa did not know this), but still he seemed faintly surprised by this news. He couldn't really picture Lisa with a child. Casually he asked, "You had a baby?"

"Oh yes," Lisa beamed happily. "She's going to be four next month."

"Daddy, who's this?" Conchita enquired with three-year-old tact.

"Sorry, Chita. This is Lisa Fogg. She's somebody I used to, er... used to..."

"Date?" his daughter suggested helpfully.

"No!" Eduardo exclaimed, a look of horror passing over his features. "No no no. No... No. Um... she's an old friend of mine."

It wasn't an accurate description, but it was the best he could do. At any rate it seemed to satisfy Conchita, and she went back to the fistfight between Kermit and Ken. With his daughter suitably occupied Eduardo turned to his guest and asked, with commendable courtesy, "What can I do for you, Lisa?"

"Well," the visitor began, "I got a call from your mother yesterday."

"Oh she didn't." Eduardo dropped his head in despair and he began to massage his forehead, as though trying to coax back his angry thoughts. "Whatever she told you, she's got it wrong. I'm fine. I don't need you. Still," he added pointedly.

"It was nice to hear from Carlota again," Lisa went on brightly. "She said you'd probably be like this, but I did expect it from you. She said you were having trouble coping with..." She glanced in Conchita's direction and added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Well, you know."

Eduardo couldn't help but glance at the clock on the mantel. Sandy Drake was going to suffer exec,ution in half an hour. It didn't bear thinking about.

"I'm fine," Eduardo insisted. "And what's more I'm in the middle of playing with Action Man and Kermit the Frog, so if you please..." He took a step towards the door.

"Your mother insisted I at least see how you are."

"You've seen. Please don't push it."

"You don't seem completely happy to me."

"Well I am." As if to remind himself of the fact Eduardo looked first at his older daughter, then the younger, then at the cat preening itself in the kitchen doorway. "I've forgotten Sandy Drake. I'm playing with my kids and I'm fine."

"Are you sure it's a good idea for you just to forget - "

"Lisa," Eduardo interrupted, "do you always force help on people who don't want it, or is it just me?"

"I think you need it, Eduardo."

"I disagree, and I won't talk to you about Sandy Drake or my father. You're wasting your time."

Lisa sighed despairingly, but finally she relented: "All right. I suppose you're an adult now and your mother can't make your decisions for you."

"Right."

"It was nice to see you again," Lisa smiled pleasantly as Eduardo opened the door for her. "And it was lovely meeting your kids."

Pointedly Eduardo shut the door, expelled the slight annoyance he was feeling with a deep sigh and then rejoined Conchita on the floor. She was looking at him with her nose wrinkled and her mouth screwed up. Eduardo knew from experience that this expression was usually followed by a question.

Sure enough: "What was she talking about?"

"She was just talking twaddle," Eduardo answered - truthfully, he thought. "That's what she does. Some people even pay her for it. But we don't have to take any notice."

Conchita's lips tightened and she asked, "People pay her?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Why?"

"Because they are very dense and think she's talking sense."

"So why doesn't anybody pay me for talking twaddle?"

Eduardo laughed and said, "That's a good question, honey. Maybe somebody should. You're very good at it."

* * *

Instead of going straight to work that morning, Kylie had gone to visit an old acquaintance of hers. Eduardo would have said she was paying someone to talk twaddle, because he was still enormously cynical about Patrick Fogg, husband to Lisa Fogg and part-time medium. Kylie did not know of Eduardo's history with Lisa. She had never met the woman and nor had she heard of her in the context of her husband, and when she knocked on the door of the Fogg household she was blissfully unaware that one of its members was at that moment on her way to visit Eduardo.

"It's been a long time," Patrick greeted Kylie with a welcoming smile. "Please come in. You know, nobody ever did tell me if your Eduardo got his problem sorted out."

"I'm not quite sure what happened," Kylie replied, "but he got better in a matter of days after you'd seen him."

"I shouldn't think it was down to me."

"Well, I say I'm not quite sure what happened, but what I really mean is I have no idea. Eduardo and I are living together now, you know," she added, just to make matters perfectly clear.

"Really?" Patrick didn't seem unduly surprised. "I thought you kind of had a thing for each other when I saw you together way back when."

"It was nineteen-ninety-eight."

Patrick had shown Kylie into his sitting room, and now her eyes were on a chubby little girl with mousy hair who sat in the middle of the room surrounded by toys. The girl stared straight back at her with inquisitive blue eyes, and Kylie smiled.

"This is my daughter Sarah," said Patrick. "Sarah, this is Kylie. Will you be ok there if I talk to her for a few minutes?"

Sarah nodded and then turned her attentions to a plastic ambulance. Patrick offered Kylie a seat on the sofa and then sat down beside her.

"Now then," Kylie began hurriedly, "there's somebody very specific that I want to talk to."

"Is his name Alberto?" asked Patrick.

"Um... yes."

"Good. I've got an Alberto with me now - if that's his name. It could be Albert or Alfred... I don't mind telling you I'm sometimes wrong."

"You're not usually that specific," Kylie remarked.

"That's where you're wrong," smiled Patrick. "I've improved since the last time you saw me. I knew I was pretty shaky to start off with, but it turns out it just needs practice. Now then, this Alberto wants to apologise."

"For scaring me and for making me take my kids out of their home in the middle of the night."

This time Patrick really was surprised. "You've got kids?"

Kylie sighed. "Yes. Conchita and Rose. Three-and-a-half and four months. Now can we get on with my reading please?"

"Yes, of course." Patrick favoured her with another smile. "Sorry. And like I said, Al's sorry too."

"Al, huh?"

"He's adamant that I call him Al."

"Right." Kylie pulled a face. "Did Al have anything to do with the headstone incident?"

"He doesn't know anything about that... although he thinks you might be right about Welch." Patrick pulled a face. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Oh yes. Absolutely." Kylie nodded vigorously. "You really have improved. Does he say anything else?"

"He's still apologising. He's saying something about a last visit to his family. He was particularly keen to see your kids, Kylie... and somebody whose name begins with K."

Kylie rolled her eyes. "Not letters again, Patrick, I thought you'd improved."

"I'm sorry. I'm mostly getting stuff about your kids. He wasn't quite so eager about seeing this K."

"Kevin. His grandson. He knew Kevin when he was alive," Kylie explained, "and he's sixteen now so Al's probably visited him lots of times. Hey Al," she added, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Thanks for coming again last night. You scared the hell out of my cat."

"Again," said Patrick, "sorry."

"I don't understand all this last visit stuff," Kylie told him. "Why doesn't he think he can visit again after...? Oh wait, I think I know."

"He's saying something about drakes."

"Not drakes, just Drake. It's a name. Al doesn't think he can visit after today, and I think I know why."

"He says he can't be sure," Patrick went on. "The final visits were just a precaution, but he thinks he might be going to Heaven today... or at least somewhere other than here."

"You really are good at this," Kylie commented. "Are you making a fortune from it?"

"Huh. Only enough that my wife won't notice." As a bereavement counsellor, Lisa believed that communication with one's dead relatives was bad for the grief process. "Al says thanks for making his son happy."

"Oh." Kylie beamed. "Um... he's welcome. Is Al happy too?"

"He says he's fine. He's enjoying watching his grandchildren grow up and he'll be sorry to leave them."

"He may not have to."

"Well I wouldn't know." Patrick was looking understandably puzzled, not being in the tight Rivera family circle and therefore knowing nothing of the events of the last few days.

"Thanks Patrick." Kylie stood up in readiness to leave. "I think that's all I need. What do I owe you?"

"You were hardly here five minutes. This one's on the house," Patrick said generously. "Oh, wait, your Grandma Rose says hi. She's also teasing me about how bad I used to be at this."

"Well she was the one that always said practice makes perfect," Kylie returned. "Thanks again for that, Patrick. I... may want to see you again."

"That'd be nice," Patrick returned as he showed her to the door. "Next time bring your kids to take care of Sarah."

* * *

Carlota's second visit to her young granddaughters that Tuesday was a lot more relaxed than the first. Conchita was always pleased to see her grandmother. She often meant a present, but that wasn't the only reason she was so liked; Conchita wasn't that shallow. The old lady never seemed to run out of fascinating stories about the family, particularly ones involving her husband, as she was eager that her grandchildren should know all about him. This time she even thought Conchita might have the patience to sit and look at photographs with her.

"He looks like Uncle Carl," observed Conchita, sitting on Carlota's lap and staring in fascination at an old black-and-white picture of her late grandfather.

"Yes he does look like Carlos," Carlota agreed, smiling fondly at the photograph. "He was a handsome man."

Conchita pulled a face. "You think so?"

Eduardo and Kylie were at the other side of the room changing Rose, and they tried to suppress laughter. They really ought to teach that child tact, but Carlota didn't seem to mind this criticism of her taste in men.

"Of course I think so," she said fondly, stroking Conchita's hair in a most annoying manner. "I married him. Did I ever tell you about the day he proposed to me?"

"Hmm." Conchita looked doubtful. "Will I need a sick bucket?"

"Probably," Carlota laughed. "It was very romantic."

As she spoke Rose let out a low gurgle as she was lifted into Kylie's arms and hoisted over her shoulder.

"You know," Carlota said, "my mother always told me not to carry babies like that."

"Oh she likes it," Kylie insisted, with commendable patience. "She likes to chew on my shoulder."

"Is that safe?"

"Safe?" Kylie pulled a face. "Well I shouldn't think she'll swallow it."

Conchita giggled and Carlota tutted, not unkindly. Then she said to Eduardo and Kylie, "Why are you two still here anyway? Go to work. I will look after Conchita."

"Yeah, go to work," Conchita added. "I'll be all right with Yaya."

Carlota made no secret of the fact that she thought Rose should spend as much time as possible with her mother, so the baby went to work with her parents while the toddler and the cat stayed behind.

"You know," Kylie said to Eduardo as they walked, trying to sound casual, "I went to see Patrick Fogg yesterday."

"You did?" Eduardo's expression turned sour. "What did you want to do that for?"

"Well... to see if I could find out any more about... you know..."

"I don't like him."

"Oh come on, he's a nice guy really," Kylie defended her newly acquired friend. "He's got a daughter now. She's the same age as Conchita."

"Yeah, I know."

Kylie frowned. "How do you know?"

"Well... you remember that bereavement counsellor I told you about?"

"Yes."

"I saw her again recently - and it just so happens that she's Patrick Fogg's wife."

"Oh." Kylie paused to take this information in and then asked, "So... do you want to know what Patrick said?"

Eduardo merely shook his head.

* * *

It so happened that Alberto was able to continue his visits to his family, which Eduardo never knew and Kylie found out when she took Conchita to meet Sarah Fogg. Eduardo was firm in his decision not to accompany them on that trip, and he told Kylie why. He hadn't much enjoyed his previous meetings with Patrick, but he was over that now; however he could never bring himself to socialise in any way, shape or form with Lisa.

Lucille, Andy and Billy Welch moved away from Manhattan, and neither Kevin nor Kelly ever discovered what had become of them. Conchita was sorry that Billy wouldn't be able to play with her again, but the little blond boy was soon forgotten in favour of Sarah Fogg.

Sandy Drake and his pretty significant connection to the Rivera family were not mentioned again until the preparations for the Day of the Dead celebration were well underway in Beth's kitchen. Kylie would never dream of talking to Eduardo about it, but she ventured to ask Beth a question as they were preparing the picnic to take to Alberto's grave.

"You knew Alberto," the younger woman said. "How do you think he would have felt about Drake being put to death?"

"Oddly enough we never talked about that," answered Beth. "He and Carl did seem to think alike, though. Maybe he would have been all for it."

Eduardo may have had an answer to her question, but Kylie didn't even consider asking him. She had only been curious, not desperate to know... and besides, she knew Al was still around somewhere. Maybe he could tell her himself... via Patrick Fogg, of course.

THE END