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.

again, more loudly.

Francis...

“… James?”

No reply.

“James…. Master?”

handle with reluctant

with his back to me, hands clasped behind his back, staring out

“Master?”

alone, Charlotte.

“But Master...”

leave me alone!”

His eyes are shiny…

“Just go, Charlotte.

*****

Richard

from the office, not that she’d really stepped inside as James' raised voice

her eyes flooding. Francis wraps arms around her. “He didn't mean it.

“I know, but...”

door swish

He must have flown...

at Charlotte and pulls her into his embrace. “Whatever

sniffs, pulling the heel of her hand over nose and eyes. Francis passes her a box of tissues. As she blows noisily, Michael, over her head, rolls

nod back. Of

a hand through his hair, he takes a

*****

Michael

know you're upset, but do you really think that making

crying?” His back turned,

Look at me will you.” He

“No.”

“Want to get drunk?”

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