Richard

As he turns from the elevator, James' face is a mask. He doesn't meet my eye or Francis’. The door clicks closed behind him and Francis looks to me, her head tilted in question.

My voice low. “Get hold of Charlotte.”

She nods, biting her lip, tapping into her desk phone. After a moment, “Charlotte, I have Richard for you.”

Speaking quietly, “Charlotte can you come to my office right away.”

“I'm just in the middle of something. Right now?”

“Yes, right now. James' daughter just paid him a visit and I don't think it went well.”

“I'm on my way.” And the line goes dead.

“Get me Michael too.” Francis reaches for the phone again.

*****

Charlotte

Two seconds to save my work, one second to slap down the lid of my laptop and I set off at a run. As I exit the elevator, Richard is waiting, perched on the edge of Francis’ desk, head bowed. Francis’ eyes are swimming.

“Georgie came to see him…?”

Surely he'd be pleased, happy?

“… What happened?”

Richard raises his head. “Thank you for coming so quickly. We don't know what happened. She arrived and he looked delighted as he went down to meet her. As she left, she wouldn't even let him see her downstairs. He's in his office.”

I swallow, my breath pulling short. I tap softly on the closed door...

The barrier…

No reply.

more loudly.

Francis...

“… James?”

No reply.

“James…. Master?”

the handle

hands clasped behind his back, staring out of the window over the

“Master?”

alone, Charlotte.

“But Master...”

me alone!” Then he

His eyes are shiny…

voice gentler. “Just

*****

Richard

that she’d really stepped inside as

her eyes flooding. Francis wraps arms around her. “He

“I know, but...”

swish open and Michael

He must have flown...

pulls her into his embrace. “Whatever he did or said, it wasn't

her a box of tissues. As she blows noisily, Michael, over her head, rolls his eyes to James’ office then nods me down

back. Of

a hand through his hair, he takes a deep

*****

Michael

upset, but do you really think that making Charlotte cry is

back turned, James’ voice

me will you.” He turns. “Want to

“No.”

“Want to get drunk?”

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