Richard

Despite everything, everything that’s happened, everything that might happen…

… Despite the feeling of waiting…

…. What’s Klempner doing?

?

Who knows?

Hickman?

I suppose he’d tell us if he thought there was a problem…

… life feels almost normal. I could work at the office, but with Elizabeth due any time now, I prefer to work here.

“Ross, could you deliver these back to Francis, please. I’ve emailed the scanned documents, but she needs my original signatures on some of them.”

“Yes, sir.” He takes the files. “Is there anything for Mr Alexanders?”

“James? I’m not sure. Let’s go ask him.”

find him in the kitchen, sir.” Ross shifts from one foot to

Really?

not too much doubt of it. A trail of banging and cuss-words leads us right to him. And as Ross and I come down the hall from one direction, Michael is approaching from the other. He jerks his head at

“No idea.”

us. Jacket hanging over the back of a chair, shirt sleeves rolled up, and be-aproned, he slams down some doughy mass on the counter-top, sending a small cloud of flour billowing. To one side, Scruffy sits, nose aimed upwards. To the other side:

turns it, presses in with the heel of both hands, then lifts and

brows at me and I

my life in my hands,

speaks through clenched teeth. “What

there’s anything you need delivering

to the parties concerned.” Lifting the dough once more, he spins it, slams it down, then

face is very straight. “That should make excellent bread, Mr Alexanders. Always a good choice when you want to work

“You’re right. My apologies. Ross. I

than pastry. Or people.” File in hand he turns for

see you out.” Michael follows him, returning a

dough into a round, he raises eyes

“Why? What’s she doing?”

Rude to me. Rude to her mother

“What triggered it?”

brand-new outfit… It was unfortunate, but her reaction was off

“You’re

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