Before Alice came along, everything was fun. Before Alice came along, Dad wasn't so distracted, so withdrawn. I remember Cee, once, her eyes black with anger, her fists locked onto her hips, declaring I should never have been born in the first place, I was a great big mistake and Mama and Daddy were cross when I came along. I ran crying to Dad. I must have been six, maybe seven. He lifted me onto his lap and smoothed the hair from my eyes, rocked me until I was calm enough to speak through the sobs. He denied it, of course he did, told me I was beautiful and wanted, a gift to him and Mama .... Even so I left his study with a lingering sense of uncertainty, lodged like a sea-worn pebble at the base of my throat.