The answer could not be that he would personally watch every corridor forever.
It needed to be a house where someone could question a locked door before the owner returned.
At breakfast, Maisie asked for a bowl for Anna.
Julian put down the milk jug.
“She’s at Beth’s.”
“I know.”
He waited.
“So it’s there.”
The child wanted evidence of return.
A place setting.
A familiar object remaining ready.
Julian pulled out the chair beside her.
“We can leave the chair here. But Anna is deciding what happens next.”
Maisie stared at the empty place.
“Because she’s cross?”
“Because she was frightened and hurt by what happened.”
“With me?”
“No.”
“She was crying.”
“Yes.”
The little girl pushed her cereal around.
“I thought if I made her come out, it would stop.”
Julian sat beside her.
“Opening the door stopped her being locked in. It didn’t make every feeling disappear.”
Maisie considered that.
Then asked:
“Can I still miss her?”
“Of course.”
“Even if she needs to go?”
“Yes.”
He stayed while she cried.
Breakfast remained.
The school morning continued.
He told the teacher there had been a difficult incident at home and arranged a private conversation later.
He did not ask Maisie to explain her nanny’s absence at the classroom door.
She had already carried too much information between adults.
He could do the communicating himself.
Anna called after lunch.
She asked to speak to Julian separately.
Her voice sounded steadier.
She had slept badly.
She had spoken further with the people handling the report.
She wanted a written account of her employment status.
Her wages.
The belongings still in her room.
The messages Estelle sent about her supposed resignation.
Julian answered each question.
Then he asked whether she wanted independent advice about work arrangements.
