I'd just like to say that I really, really love Butler.

And that this chapter is brought to you with the grammatical support of ilex-ferox (it's like we're PBS!).

Chapter Twenty-Two: Normal

He lies in bed and stares at his ceiling.

She watches him without speaking.

'Why is it that nearly everyone I love will have died twice by the time my life ends?' he asks at last.

She sighs. 'Because, unlike Coral's, your life has been anything but normal.'

He turns to look her in the eye. 'Is it a life he could have been proud of?'

She nods, running her fingers over his face. 'Nearly always,' she replies, smiling a little.

He swallows, reaching for her. 'Thank you,' he says.

A little over a month after their return from the Amazon basin, Artemis is writing a paper on anti-gravitational transportation when Holly enters his study.

'Sooo ... Artemis,' she perches on the arm of his chair.

Suspicious, the man in question looks back at her out of the corner of his eye, but continues typing. 'Yes?

Holly licks her lips. 'Well, let me put it this way – what do you think about children?'

Artemis stops typing. He twists in the chair to face his wife. 'In general? Or my own, hypothetical, children?'

'The latter. But with more emphasis on "your own" and less on "hypothetical".'

Artemis blinks. 'What exactly are you attempting not to tell me, Holly?'

'Ah ... well ... see, the thing is ...' Holly looks up at the ceiling, over to the door, out of the window, and then down at Artemis. 'I might not have had my period in over two months.'

'"Might not have had?"'

'We-ell, okay, so, I was supposed to have it just as we were leaving Brazil, but it didn't turn up. Wasn't too worried - times of change, sometimes that messes it up so, you know, whatever, no big deal. Anyway, I should have had it last week but, once again, it was a no-show. Well, I went down to the pharmacy and got one of those bizarre little test kit things – sometimes I still find human products strange – and drank about two gallons of orange juice –' Holly realises she's rambling and pulls herself up short. 'The point is, Artemis, the test was positive. Which I guess isn't too shocking seeing as I wasn't taking anything while we were in the jungle and you didn't bring anything with you and, well, we were rather happy to see each other, after all was said and done.'

Artemis stares at her as though she's grown a second head.

Holly swallows, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 'Say something, Artemis.'

'My firstborn was conceived in a hut?' His face is the very picture of revulsion.

It's Holly's turn to blink. 'So ... you're okay with this?'

'Are you? It's your nine months of discomfort followed by intense pain, not mine.'

'Oh, yes? Just wait until I'm waking you up at two in the morning asking for pickles and ice cream, then we'll see who's in discomfort and pain.'

'Seriously, Holly.'

She swallows again. 'Yes,' she speaks quietly, 'honestly ... well, it'd be kind of nice. But it does seem ... young. I'm not even one hundred yet!'

Artemis laughs as she clambers down into his lap. Suddenly, however, she rounds on him, one finger prodding his chest. 'But I am not giving birth to a criminal, Artemis Fowl. I don't care how smart this child is, you are not indoctrinating it into the Fowl family creed - Myles' and Beckett's kids can carry on the family's criminal legacy.'

'But it's a time-honoured tradition!' Artemis protests in mock-horror.

'Just think of it this way,' Holly plays with his shirt buttons, 'I could always put it up for adoption.'

Artemis sighs dramatically. 'No inclusion of child in illegal activities. Yes, yes, alright. However, should the child decide of its own free will to become a criminal, I will not be held responsible. It could be genetic, you know.'

'I am so sick of genetics,' Holly kisses the underside of his chin.

Artemis shrugs, fighting down a smile. 'That's a pity. They've always been very good to me.'

He distracts her before she can deliver her scathing reply.

The next few months do not pass quickly. Artemis has no qualms about irritating Holly in her current condition, despite Holly's temper being markedly shorter.

A month before the baby's due, Butler gets so fed up with their bickering that he, too, loses his temper.

'How on earth do you two expect to be parents when you're barely capable of acting like adults yourselves? For heaven's sake, you've been living together for over eight years. You should be used to each other's idiocies by now.'

Holly and Artemis stare at the enraged man, mouths agape.

'Butler,' Holly begins uncertainly, 'are you alright? You're acting even more hormonal than I am.' She turns to Artemis, 'Maybe he's got that thing where the men get so caught up by the pregnancy that they start acting like an expectant woman too.'

'Sympathy pains?' Artemis supplies.

'Exactly,' Holly nods.

'Shouldn't it be me that sympathises with your pregnancy?'

Holly gives him a dry look. 'Artemis, you couldn't sympathise with a dying kitten.'

For a moment, Butler fears another row but then the man laughs, leaning down to kiss his wife's neck. 'Come on,' Artemis says, 'let's get you into that bath.'

'Look, I may not be able to touch my toes, but I can get to the bathroom on my own. Let's not exaggerate,' Holly crosses her arms over her enormous belly.

Artemis raises an eyebrow and holds out his arms. Having registered the obligatory protest, Holly shrugs and lets him help her navigate the furniture.

'I don't want human doctors.' Holly's face contorts as pain spasms through her.

'You're not serious.' Artemis informs her. 'You can't possibly be. Get up; we're going to the hospital.'

'No.' Holly shakes her head emphatically. 'Call Foaly; he'll send a midwife.'

'Holly, there's nothing wrong with the human hospitals in Dublin.' Butler speaks softly, trying to calm her down. 'We've the very best of treatment –'

'Please.' She looks up, eyes wide. 'Artemis ...'

Artemis stares intently at his wife for a moment before pressing the speed dial on his mobile. 'Foaly? Yes – what? No, she's not fine, she's asking for a fairy midwife. Well find one, she's gone into labour. Yes, I know I shouldn't listen to her in this state but it's difficult not to. Ha ha. Yes, you're very funny,' Artemis' expression is anything but amused, 'now find someone.'

Two hours later, Foaly, N°1, N°1's bodyguards and Mulch are taking up, in Artemis' opinion, far too much space in his bedroom. However, they brought with them a fully certified elfin midwife. The minute woman is standing on a chair to reach Holly.

'That's it, that's a girl. You're doing fine, now just breathe...' The midwife's soothing voice abruptly turns sharp. 'Why are you lot still hanging about? I want all of you out! Except you,' she points at Butler, 'you look useful. You stay. The rest of you get out.'

'But I'm the father –' Artemis begins, frowning. Some morbid curiosity is compelling him to stay, despite his established incapacity to deal with Holly in pain.

'You could be King Frond VI and I wouldn't care. Out!'

Artemis opens his mouth to protest, but Holly swears at him in Gnommish and he thinks better of it, following the others into the living room.

The four friends take turns pacing around the room and sitting agitatedly on the couch. When one gets up, another takes his place.

'Why is she screaming?' Artemis asks when an agonized shriek sends him rushing wide-eyed towards the door. Mulch grabs him by the elbow just in time, dragging him back to the couch.

'Well, generally, screaming is an indication of pain. Usually of the excruciating –' N°1 notices Artemis' expression and cuts his jittery ramble short.

'Right,' Mulch eyes his three companions, 'I think what we need here is some tea, and a plate of biscuits. Maybe even sandwiches. No, stay there, I'll do it.' Mulch raises a hand as Artemis begins to rise. 'It'll at least be partially edible that way.'

Artemis opens his mouth to retort when the bedroom door opens and Butler comes out, wiping his hands on a towel. Six heads swivel towards him, six pairs of eyes fixing on him.

'It's a girl,' he says simply, and grins.

He flattens himself to the wall as they stampede past him.

'Oh, look at her, isn't she beautiful? Smile for your favourite uncle, honey. Coochee coochee coo...'

'Hey there, darling. I'm your Uncle Foaly, woojee woojee...'

N°1 eyes his two friends with disdain. 'You two sound ridiculous. She obviously doesn't appreciate being spoken to as if she were totally brainless. You're way too smart for these idiots, aren't you? That's what I thought,' N°1 grins as the girl lets out a minute yawn.

'Oh Frond, would you look at that?' Mulch waves a hairy hand at the baby. 'She's got a face to melt the heart of a hardened criminal.'

'Useful, considering the company her mother keeps.' Foaly eyes Mulch and Artemis.

'Gone straight,' Mulch reminds him absently, waggling his fingers at the child.

'She's got Holly's eyes,' N°1 peers over the lip of the cradle. 'Look how big they are.' With a dreamy smile he watches the sleepy baby.

The midwife joins them at the crib, 'She is pretty cute, I'll give you that.'

'"Pretty cute"?!' Foaly whinnies indignantly. 'She's the most beautiful baby Mud Men have ever seen. Aren't you, darling? Yes, you are. "Pretty cute"! My Frond-daughter is going to break hearts!'

'Hey, hey, wait a minute now,' Mulch pulls away from the crib, arms akimbo, and glares up at the centaur. 'Your Frond-daughter? I don't think so, buddy. Her parents wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for me. She's my Frond-daughter.'

N°1 scoffs. 'You two've both got it wrong. I am the most powerful warlock that's ever been. Clearly, as Frond-father, I would be unparalleled. Why would they choose one of you?'

'Excuse me?' Foaly whinnies indignantly. 'Holly – Holly, are you hearing this? I am your oldest and dearest friend. You wouldn't make some pipsqueak upstart like this imp Frond-father, would you?'

Holly turns to her husband. 'Would you bring her here? I don't want them drooling on her before she's been vaccinated.'

Artemis laughs and does as she asks. Holding the child in the crook of his arm, as Butler has taught him, he looks down into her wide eyes. He smiles: he wanted the child to take after its mother.

'So,' N°1 asks eagerly, as Holly takes the bundle from Artemis, tucking the yawning girl gently under her chin, 'who's it going to be?'

'Butler,' Artemis replies.

'Butler?' Three horrified voices sound as one.

'Do you have a problem with that?' Butler asks mildly, from where he stands at the foot of the bed.

The other three gulp, eyeing Butler. The former bodyguard may have grown old, but he hasn't grown any less scary.

'No, none whatsoever.'

'Nope, not at all.'

'Who could?'

When, at long last, the fairies return underground and Butler kindly makes himself scarce, Holly lets her head fall back against the pillows, her breath coming out in a rush.

Artemis pushes her hair off her forehead. She leans into his palm. 'I'm exhausted,' she groans, chuckling slightly.

'What a surprise,' he replies. Gently, he reaches to take their baby from her. Her arms tighten instinctively. 'You need to sleep, Holly,' he says, and reaches for the child again.

She nods silently, letting him take the girl.

Tucking the baby safely back into the crib, he asks, 'Do you want anything?'

Holly shakes her head. 'No, I'm fine. I just ... it feels so strange to be only me again.'

Artemis returns to the bed, shedding his clothes as he goes. 'Mm,' he agrees.

She laughs suddenly. 'Artemis, we have a child.'

'Really? I thought you'd simply put on weight.' He slides in beside her.

'Prat,' she smiles. She runs her fingers through his hair, still soft and thick, remembering that first weekend in the rain. She lets him tuck her against him and marvels at being already so much smaller.

'What are we going to call her?' he murmurs, not really expecting an answer. They'd refused to think about it until they'd seen the child.

'Coral,' she replies, without hesitation.

Artemis blinks at the readiness of her answer. Then he smiles. He can't really argue with passing on family names, can he?

'Short,' Holly adds.

Artemis blinks. This he can argue with. 'No.'

'Yes.'

'We'll discuss this in the morning.'

Holly snorts. 'Remember, I can punch again.'

Artemis tightens his hold on her. 'Battles but not the war,' he tells her, kissing her hair.

'You just keep telling yourself that, Arty.'

Holly leans over the crib, rocking it gently with one hand and singing softly in Gnommish. Artemis watches from the doorway. The setting sun throws mother and daughter into shadow, illuminating only the thinnest slivers of their skin. The curve of a cheek, the line of a jaw.

'You realise,' he speaks softly, crossing to join them, 'that she can never know what you were?'

Holly pauses, still half bent. She swallows – the only outward sign of the pain that, out of nowhere, is slicing through her like the falling blade of a guillotine. It's an old pain, one that she thought had long scabbed over, but in that moment its edge is as sharp and fine as it ever was, all those years ago.

Artemis watches her face, frozen in the act of singing. He knows it was cruel, but he knows it was necessary.

'Yes,' she whispers.

'Holly –'

'Sh,' she shakes her head. 'You'll wake her.'

He rests a hand on his wife's head, cradling her delicate skull in his palm; her thick hair stands up like feathers between his fingers. Coral murmurs in her sleep and Holly begins to sing again.

'A la claire fontaine, m'en allant promener...' she leans into his hand.

Artemis Fowl II frowns at the imp before him. The man is one of the few people above or below the earth who can get away with frowning at N°1; which is lucky, because he finds he does it quite a lot.

'What exactly do you mean by "grow up with her"?' he asks at length.

'Exactly what I said, obviously,' tuts N°1. 'I'll give myself a human disguise and you can introduce me as one her cousins and from then on my human body can just get older as she does. It's perfect! After all, it's not like she's going to have any other cousins in the near future - unless one of the twins has a secret lover stashed away somewhere.'

'And what, exactly, will we tell her about your parents?'

N°1 shrugs. 'Tell her they're dead; tell her they're on a scientific expedition to the centre of the earth; tell her I was born in a test tube. Do I look as if I care?'

Artemis Fowl II frowns at the imp before him. N°1 smiles back winningly.

Coral Fowl (Artemis won that round by pointing out that she'd chosen the first name, though Holly insists that it sounds funny) is a pretty child; some would even go so far as to say beautiful. Thin, with a heart-shaped face topped by thick auburn hair, she has the typical pale complexion and hazel eyes of a red head. Attractive yes, but in a conventional way. She doesn't have the striking colouring of her mother or the icy good looks of her father. Unlike her parents, she is an average human being; in more ways than just her appearance.

Her grandparents, her uncles, Butler, all dote on her. She is an easy child to love. Precocious and quick to smile, she is ready to enjoy life and, in return, life offers her the best it has. Holly shakes her head at the ease with which her daughter passes through life. Artemis shakes his head at how his daughter lets life pass her by.

In truth, the only extraordinary thing about her is her family, although it isn't until she reaches primary school that Coral realises that most girls are not escorted everywhere by their behemoth God-fathers. Nor do they live in eyrie-like flats with mothers of no discernable heritage and fathers who rarely use words under three syllables.

Something else that surprises her as she begins frequenting the houses of her economic equals, is that most young girls worth several million euro do not wash their own dishes or make their own beds. A point she is quick to take up with her mother.

'But Mu-um, Olivia's got staff who clean for her. Why've I got to help with the washing up?'

'Good luck,' says her father as he passes, 'I've been asking her the same question for years.'

Coral points to her father's quickly retreating back. 'Dad hasn't got to do his own dishes.'

Her mother purses her lips. 'That's because your father –' she pauses, taking a deep breath. 'Your father has other work to do, sweetheart. And no more whining. I washed my own dishes when I was a child; don't worry, it won't kill you. Besides, if you don't do it, Butler will have to and he's got enough to do already, don't you think?'

Coral glances at her uncle and sighs. Reluctantly, she turns back to help her mother finish loading the dishwasher.

'I'm not having her turn into some spoiled rich girl, Artemis, so just drop it.'

He sighs, curling the arm she's lying on around her so that she can't roll away from him. 'But the washing up? It's so menial, Holly. She's a Fowl not a – a –'

'A Short?'

'That is not what I said.'

She sits up, to be able to look down her nose at him. 'Artemis, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but of the two of us, who had the happier childhood?'

He frowns at her in the gloom and she can feel his body tense.

'Exactly. So I am going to raise her like my mother raised me.' But she leans forward, kissing his neck by way of apology.

'But it's useless knowledge, Holly. She will never need to know how to load a dishwasher or make her own lunch. We can employ –'

'I don't want servants, Artemis.'

'But-'

'Please, Artemis. I'm not asking you to wash the dishes –' she pauses as they both smile, remembering her earlier attempts at just that, 'I just want her to be at least vaguely in touch with reality.'

'I still think it's an utter waste of time.'

'You keep on thinking that, Artemis, I don't mind. I think lots of things about the way you spend your time but I never bring them up.'

He sighs. 'Yes, yes, we both know your ethics are vastly superior to mine.'

She laughs, kissing him again. 'Well, they're really all I've got left to me,' she says, shifting her weight.

This makes him smile as he kisses her.

Another thing most girls her age haven't got, Coral discovers over the years, is a cousin like Norbert.

Orphaned at the age of five while his parents, distant relations of her mother, were in Tasmania researching a rumoured sighting of the Tasmanian tiger, Norbert is now independently wealthy, coming to visit her and her parents with surprising frequency for someone who allegedly lives in Australia.

It isn't just his unusual life-story that makes Cousin Norbert special. To begin with, Coral has never met anyone, not even her father (who is the smartest man she knows), with a vocabulary like Norbert's. Honestly, how many nine-year-olds are there who know at least ten synonyms for the word 'confusing'? And she swears that Norbert makes things happen. For example, that one time, when she had wanted to go for a walk and it had been raining:

'But it's awful outside. Butler won't let me go out in weather like that.' Coral presses her hands to the huge windows of the sitting room.

Norbert stares out over the city, frowning. Before her wide eyes, the rain stops, the clouds begin to recede and, from nowhere, a rainbow arcs over the wet roofs of Dublin.

'Oh, I don't know,' Norbert replies casually. 'It looks pretty nice outside to me.'

Coral stares at her cousin in disbelief.

Usually, however, it's smaller things. Flowers that bloom out of season, just where she happens to be walking; queues that vanish as they approach the zoo or the cinema; playground slides that are longer and more exciting than they have any right to be, judging by their outward appearance.

Needless to say, her slight, red-haired cousin has impressed her from the very beginning.

'"Norbert"? Are you serious?' Holly asks N°1 incredulously.

'Why do people always ask me that?' the imp huffs. 'Obviously. My name should start with an 'N' so it's easier for you lot to get it right, and what's wrong with Norbert? It's better than Ned or Neville. I like Norbert!'

'All right, all right.' Holly waves her hands. 'Remind me again why we're letting you do this?'

'Because you want your daughter to have at least some contact with your former life, however hidden,' Artemis speaks from the couch.

Holly looks at him, an unreadable expression on her face. N°1, quite forgotten, quietly leaves the room, deciding that maybe they don't need his company right now.

It isn't until Coral is halfway between fourteen and fifteen that her parents realise exactly how attached she's become to 'Cousin Norbert'.

'I'll get it!' Coral flies out of her room to pick up the intercom phone for the downstairs lobby. 'Norbert? Yes, of course, I'll buzz you through.'

Artemis, Holly and Butler simultaneously look up from the contents of an unlabelled manila envelope, the annual budget proposal of Médecins sans frontières, and Guns and Ammo respectively. They wear identical expressions of scepticism.

'Well,' says Butler casually, 'glad to see your cousin are you?'

'I'd say so,' replies her father.

'You seem a bit flushed, darling.' Her mother says, straight-faced.

Coral swallows under the scrutiny, trying to will away the blood in her cheeks. 'No! I'm just ... it's just ... it's hot in here, okay? And I don't get to see Norbert very often! I'm just happy to see him!'

'Well that went without saying,' Holly fights down a smile.

'Look, he's my cousin. I'm supposed to like him.'

'No one was questioning your familial ties, Coral,' Butler points out at the same time as Artemis says, '"The lady doth protest too much, methinks".'

Coral flushes an even darker red and flounces back to her room with a resounding, 'Whatever!'

Holly leans back in her chair. 'Ah, Artemis, if only you had had the debating skills of our daughter... I'd've won so many more arguments.'

Artemis snorts. 'I suppose it's too much to hope that between myself, "cousin Norbert", and her incredibly expensive education, her vocabulary would be at least a little more sophisticated.'

Holly and Butler grin at each other over their respective reading.

A week into the imp's visit, however, Holly realises that Coral's attachment is not a joke.

One night, a few days before N°1 is planning to return 'down under', she knocks on her daughter's bedroom door.

'Coral? Can I come in?'

There's a muffled reply that Holly takes to be an affirmative. Stepping into the darkened room, she lets the door hang open behind her, letting in a little of the hallway's light.

'Coral? Are you okay?'

The girl is sitting against her headboard with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms.

Holly sits carefully on the edge of the bed. 'Sweetheart ...'

Out of nowhere, comes a sob. Coral launches herself forward into her mother's waiting arms, crying uncontrollably. Holly sighs, smoothing the girl's hair.

'I don't w-want him to go!' Coral manages at last.

'I know, darling, we're all very fond of ... Norbert, but he needs to go home. He's got school and ... other things, to take care of. He'll come and visit again.'

'No! You don't understand! I'm in love with him!' Coral flings herself back melodramatically, staring at her mother with wild eyes.

Holly takes a calming breath. 'Coral. I know you may think that you –'

'Are you saying that I don't love him?' Her daughter's face becomes hard and cold, strongly reminiscent of her father's at that age.

'No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you're very young and –'

'I'm nearly fifteen!' Coral huffs.

'She has a point. I wasn't much older myself, was I?' Unnoticed, Artemis has been leaning in the doorway. But he speaks in Gnommish and, though Holly glares daggers at him, Coral only looks bemused. She's heard her parents and, occasionally, Butler speak her mother's bizarre native-tongue, but she's never learnt it.

'Not helping, Artemis,' Holly replies in the same language, before turning back to Coral. 'Yes, you're nearly fifteen, and I know you're terribly grown up, but, darling, Nu–Norbert – he's ... well, he's family, isn't he?'

Coral scoffs, her disdain reminding Holly once more of Artemis. 'Barely. The son of your second cousin, or something? That's hardly incest. Mum, I love him. He's special. He knows things ... he can do things, he -'

'What things?' Holly's eyes narrow in suspicion.

'Nothing, you'd think I'm being silly.' Coral catches sight of her mother's expression and quickly changes tact, 'Mum, it's nothing. Really.'

Holly does not look convinced, but she lets it go.

'Well,' Artemis speaks from the doorway, 'you're certainly correct about one thing: he is, without a doubt, special.'

Coral looks up hopefully. 'So you're okay with it, Daddy? Please say yes.'

Artemis is not a sentimental man, but there is something about having one's only child, now teetering precariously close to adulthood, turn to you and say, like she used to as a child, 'Daddy', that makes him become uncharacteristically maudlin. 'Eh ...' is all he manages.

'Coral,' Holly takes her daughter by the shoulders, 'listen to me. Norbert is wonderful, and if he were anyone but himself I would be thrilled for you. But not him. It's just ... it's just not possible.'

'Why not?' Coral's jaw sets defiantly.

Holly sighs. 'Why did she have to inherit your stubbornness?' she asks Artemis as though Coral weren't there.

'I beg your pardon, I'm the stubborn one now?' Artemis crosses his arms huffily.

Holly turns back to their daughter. 'Trust me, Coral, there'll be others.'

'There weren't for me,' Artemis speaks softly in Gnommish once more.

Holly swallows hard, staring intently at their daughter's face, refusing to look at him. 'Artemis, please,' she replies in the same language, 'don't give her false hope. This isn't the same. You know it's impossible. Please help me.'

From his post at the door, he can see her shoulders shake with the desire to tell her daughter everything.

'Does it end with us, then?' he asks quietly. 'No more contact? The People a secret we take to the grave? Would it be so very bad if -'

'Yes.' Holly's voice is harsh. 'Yes, it would. You know how much I wish we could all live together. You know – but you don't know the fear they live in: of being discovered, of being hunted down again. They have nowhere else to run! Isn't it you who's always saying I can't tell her? Isn't it you who's always reminding me that it ends with us?'

'Would you guys stop talking in that language? It's really rude you know: I can't understand it at all!' Coral crosses her arms, pouting, effectively ending her parents' discussion.

'Sorry, Coral,' Holly turns her attention back to the teenager. 'Is nothing I say going to persuade you that Norbert isn't the one for you?'

'Nothing,' the girl confirms.

Holly sighs. 'He'll break your heart. Trust me, I should know. I have terrible taste in men.'

'I am standing right here –'

Coral giggles. 'You know,' she looks up at her parents, her dramatic love life momentarily forgotten, 'all of my friends know how their parents met. Their mums always get all soppy and tell us about it. But you've never told me how you two got together.'

Her mother blinks. Her father gives what can only be described as a predatory smile. 'I kidnapped her and held her for ransom,' he says.

Coral bursts out laughing.

Artemis frowns. 'In what way is that amusing? I'm telling you that I abducted your mother, and you laugh?'

Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, Coral manages to get out, 'That's a good one, Dad. Really. But come on, do you really expect me to fall for it? Mum could beat you bloody.'

'Well obviously I had help, Butler isn't just a, well, butler, you know.'

'Sure, whatever, Dad.'

Standing, Holly takes her affronted-looking husband by the elbow, shepherding him through the door.

'Good night, Coral.'

'Good night, Mum, Dad.'

As Holly closes the door, Coral calls out, 'And Dad can come up with as many mad stories as he likes, I haven't changed my mind.'

Artemis looks deeply offended. 'This is what I get for not raising her to become a proper Fowl. No respect! I would never have doubted my father's claims of abduction.'

'Yes, honestly, the youth of today. Shocking.' Holly shakes her head in mock-dismay.

'Thank you for your support,' Artemis returns dryly.

Holly smiles up at him in the dim light. 'Come to bed?' she asks, wrapping her arms around his torso.

'In a minute, I want to speak to your esteemed cousin.'

Holly nods slowly. 'Do you want me to –'

'No, go on to bed, I'll be along shortly.'

She shrugs, turning to go, but he catches her arm. She raises her eyebrows. He cocks his head slightly, looking at her. She raises her eyebrows in a 'Yes, and?' expression. He licks his lips, putting the back of his hand to her cheek. She nods, accepting his apology.

He knocks on N°1's door.

The imp, his human disguise still firmly in place, opens the door. 'Isn't it a bit late for visits, Mud Man?'

'Decidedly. Don't worry, I won't be long, I have other things I'd much rather be doing than this,' Artemis steps into the room, shutting the door behind him.

'I can think of one in particular,' N°1 replies, waggling his eyebrows. 'Not quite five-foot, red hair -'

'I've come to ask you a favour,' Artemis interrupts.

'Oh yes? Well, do tell!' N°1 hops onto his bed, patting the eiderdown next to him. Artemis sits, resting his arms on his legs.

'Coral has become ... rather fond of you.'

'Well, I should hope so! I'm the most interesting family member she's got. Tragic, because I'm not even family, not really.'

'I mean she's infatuated with you.'

'Infat – you mean as in romantically attached, in love with, desirous of –'

'Yes, yes, all of those.'

'Oh.'

They sit in silence for a moment.

'You want me to tell her I don't ... reciprocate her feelings.'

'Precisely.' Artemis frowns suddenly. 'You don't, do you?'

The imp shakes his head. 'Call me crazy but, personally, I like to stick with my own species. I mean, I love her - she's the little sister I never had – but that's all.'

'Good,' said Artemis. 'Tell her tomorrow.'

'What, just knock on her door and say '"Hey, Coral, your dad just wanted me to tell you that I'm not in love with you?"' That'd go over like a lead balloon.' N°1 grins at the idiom.

Artemis pinches the bridge of his nose. 'I'm sure you'll think of something.'

And, of course, N°1 does think of something. His sudden desire to start talking about his girlfriend Annie over breakfast the next morning might not have been any subtler than his original proposal, but it got the point across.

Coral spends the three weeks after he leaves sulking in her room, banging doors and spontaneously bursting into tears. The three adults learn to avoid her unless she approaches them first. Her eyes aren't the only thing she's inherited from Holly.

Eventually, Butler decides enough is enough. One Friday after school, he picks her up and, instead of heading back to the flat, takes her on a road trip. They drive down to Cork where he takes her shopping and out for a greasy dinner Artemis wouldn't touch with a barge pole. The next day they go to Blarney Castle, and laugh at the tourists, and kiss the stone, and eat proper seafood in a village on the coast.

'Did you tell my parents about this?' Coral asks him the next day, eating chips out of their paper wrapping.

'Sure,' Butler shrugs. 'I left them a message on Artemis' voicemail.'

'You rebel! Dad'll be pissed that he didn't have a say in it.' Coral seems to relish the idea of Butler having got one over on her father.

'I don't think so, Holly'll keep him occupied. Besides, it's good for him to be taken by surprise once in a while. Though, having said that, I should probably tell him Juliet's coming back next month. Keeps slipping my mind ...' Butler's words trail off as he chews his food thoughtfully.

Coral leans on his shoulder, 'Just tell him it's senility kicking in.'

Butler laughs, but his face is sad.

When Butler and Coral return to Dublin, Artemis and Holly are amazed to discover that Coral has completely forgotten about her heartbreak. In fact, to all intents and purposes, she seems to have forgotten she ever loved Norbert at all. Once again she's cheerful and smiling and closing doors without breaking the doorframes. Her father is appalled that three days on the coast are all it took to make her forget. Where is her resolve? Her passion?

'She isn't like us,' he tells Holly one day, as they sit in St. Stephen's Green, watching children, much younger than their daughter is now, run screaming after a giant red ball. They're waiting for her to return from a sleepover. 'She forgot all about N°1 after only three weeks of sulking and three days' holiday. Why isn't she hatching some sort of plan?'

Holly shakes her head. 'Because she's normal, Artemis. Because she isn't like us. Or should I say "you"? This is how normal people are.'

'It's odd,' he mutters bemusedly.

Holly laughs and swings her legs over his. Thoroughly middle-aged now, she enjoys shocking her age-bracket with youthful displays of affection and by arriving at functions on a red motorbike.

Pushing her fringe out of her eyes, Holly comes to a gasping stop. She leans against a lamp-post for support, clutching a stitch in her side and swiping her bangs out of her eyes, glaring up at the grey in them.

As her pulse slows, Holly peers up the street. She's at least four streets from the flat but she knows she won't be able to make it running. Frowning, she begins a slow walk. She's never not finished before.

Butler is reading on the couch when she gets home. He looks up from Coral's letter as Holly kicks off her shoes, still breathing heavily.

'Are you alright?' he asks.

'Yes, I think so. I just ...' she takes a deep gulp of air, 'I couldn't finish my run. I had to walk the last four streets.' She flops down next to him on the couch, looking dejected.

'Do you want some water?'

'Yes, I'll – don't get up! – I'll get some in a minute.' She lets her head fall back against the couch. 'God, Butler, I'm getting old. My hair's more grey then red these days and now I can't even ... I'm only fifty-two! A hundred and eighteen. Whatever. Way too young for this.'

'Fifty-two's about when I started having trouble,' Butler remarks.

Holly rolls her head to face him. She opens her mouth to say something but then pauses, frowning. When she does speak, her voice is quiet. 'At least I got to enjoy my forties. I'm sorry, Butler, you're the last person who should have to listen to me bitch about my lost youth.' She puts a hand on his arm.

His wrinkled face breaks into a grin. 'Not at all, reminds me of mine.'

'You're so good to me, Big Man.' She punches him very, very gently on his arm, then wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. 'But tell me, what does my errant daughter have to say for herself?'

Butler puts a hand to her hair and begins to paraphrase drastically.

The first time Coral remembers being absolutely, truly, heart-broken - more than the loud, shattering moments after Norbert's defection or the quieter but deeper pain of her later relationships - is when her god-father dies.

For as long as she can remember the huge man has lived with her and her parents. He is her brother, her uncle, her teacher, her first friend. But, even then, she can see that the pain she feels is nothing compared to what her parents are going through. Her father - her cool, calm, collected father - seems to be going to pieces. She's never seen him cry, not even get teary-eyed, but now he sits on the edge of Butler's bed with his arms around her mother's waist, crying into her stomach. Her mother runs her fingers through his hair, making soothing noises that come out uneven over the hiccupping of her own sobs.

Juliet, her beautiful, if elusive, aunt, sits next to Butler, a hand on his shaved head, her lips pressed firmly together, but still quivering. At the foot of the bed is a strange woman. She has her face buried in her hands, her blonde ringlets falling forward to hide both.

'I wish you would all stop crying,' Butler whispers feebly. 'I'm nearly as old as Holly. It's time to go.'

This just sets off a fresh flood of tears from her mother. Coral frowns, not getting the joke.

'Holly,' Butler's voice is painful to hear, 'for heaven's sake, stop that.'

Before Holly can reply, however, the laptop on the desk flickers magically to life, her Uncles Foaly and Mo, and cousin Norbert appearing on it. Briefly, she wonders how Mo and Norbert got out to Foaly's research station. It's somewhere unreachable in the Himalayas, after all, which is why Foaly never comes to visit.

'Oh good,' Foaly says, clearly relieved. 'I thought we might be too late.'

'How you feelin', Big Man?' Mo peers out from the screen.

'So much better now that I get to die looking at your charming mug,' comes the dry response.

'Hey now, don't talk like that. You could have weeks left.'

Holly shakes her head. 'He's got minutes,' she whispers.

Foaly turns on her sharply. 'You can still –' He catches sight of Coral and stops abruptly.

Holly nods. 'Yes,' she says.

'Well,' Butler tries to sound cheerful, 'if this is all I've got, I'd just like to say it's been a pleasure. A man couldn't have asked for a better life.' He raises one arm feebly. 'Come closer, Artemis; I can't reach you.'

Letting go of Holly, her father rises shakily and comes to sit at Butler's side, opposite Juliet. He looks, for a moment, like a lost child. 'You needn't – we could find something – Domovoi, be reasonable –'

'I'm old, Artemis. After all the times I've had to come running after you, I deserve a rest,' he replies, chuckling faintly.

'There's a difference between resting and dying, Domovoi -'

Holly clambers over to join Artemis. 'Do you remember that time,' she changes the subject, before Artemis can press the matter, and tries to smile while wiping at her eyes, 'that we thought we were going to die in Opal's labs, with all those go – soldiers?'

Butler closes his eyes, smiling and nodding. The blonde at the foot of the bed raises her head and comes to sit next to him as well. 'Or that one time you beat me at chess?' She takes his hand in both of hers.

Butler smiles but doesn't open his eyes.

'They still have that tape, you know,' Foaly pipes up. 'Of you fighting the – ah – bull. They use it for training recruits.'

'What about that time I punched Artemis in the nose in Russia? That was always one of Root's favourites,' Holly tries out a watery smile.

Coral stares at her mother in disbelief.

'Or Trouble's poor Retrieval squad,' Holly continues, as though determined to push the present aside. 'Or that time I sprayed you in rad gel and you looked like a foam-covered yeti.'

'Or when we moved that enormous couch into Holly's and my flat, and you nearly broke your b-back.' Juliet speaks for the first time, before her chin begins trembling too hard to continue. 'Oh, Dom.'

'Or the time we drank cappuccinos on the beach while Holly was perched on the luggage rack, following Minerva,' Artemis speaks at last, smiling faintly.

Holly rounds on him, hamming it up. 'I knew it! Goddammit, Artemis, I knew you two weren't at the library.'

Butler wheezes with laughter.

'I can't believe you –' Holly stops abruptly, turning back to Butler. 'Oh no. No ...'

Juliet's chin quivering dissolves into full blown sobbing. Artemis goes so still that, for a moment, Coral is worried he's died too. The blonde at the foot of the bed kisses the hand she holds, whispering an apology: for what, Coral has no idea. Her mother places a hand on Butler's chest, over his heart, crying unashamedly. On the screen, her uncles and cousin are silent and solemn.

Coral can feel her own throat close as she wipes vainly at her face, trying to keep her tears from soaking her shirt. Giving up, she climbs onto the bed and into her mother's arms. As Holly holds her painfully tight, Coral wonders who is comforting whom.