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“You grew up there?”

“I was born there.”

“May I ask...” Frances hesitated and then suddenly said, “How did your mum…?”

“Suicide.” Lucie didn’t soften it. There was no other way of saying it, and she was past easing people into it slowly. “They think she had depression, triggered from my birth.”

“Oh... erm.” Frances stumbled. “I’ve no idea what to say to that. I can’t even begin to imagine how that feels.”

Lucie shrugged, then paused for a moment. “My dad only told me when I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t believe it. Growing up, I thought she’d died of an illness. That she hadn’t wanted to leave me.” She took a slow breath. “I was angry at her. There were things I wanted to say to her but couldn’t — can’t — because she chose not to be here. So... I kind of understand how you feel in not being able to express how you feel about things.”

“Surely you don’t blame yourself?”

“I did,” Lucie admitted. “For being born. I blamed my dad for not stopping her. I even blamed her.” She sighed. “I’d give anything now to hear her voice. See how she moved, her mannerisms. But we can’t change the past; we can only accept it and decide how we will let it affect us. I know now that, at the time, she didn’t feel she had a choice. It still cuts deep, though.”

“I imagine it does,” Frances said, setting her mug down. Her hand hovered over a box beside it before she lifted it onto her lap and opened it. “These arrived, but I can’t quite bring myself to set them up.”

“Cameras,” Lucie said, peering into the box. “Maybe keep them as a last resort.”

“Am I not there already?”

“Only you can decide that.”

Frances put the box down and turned to Lucie. “Can I ask what your plans are after... elf-ing?”

“I’m not really sure,” Lucie replied, grateful for the move to a lighter topic. “My return was so sudden that I hadn’t made any. I’ll probably hang around here for a little longer, see if I can figure it out. Spend time with my family.”

Frances hesitated. “Would you help me with Mum? Just until you’ve decided where the wind will blow you and I’ve had time to come up with a plan. I know it’s probably a lot to ask. I would pay you, of course.”

“Oh! Erm...” It was Lucie’s turn to blink. Frances’s request was wholly unexpected, but she didn’t hate the idea. In fact, she would enjoy it, especially if it meant seeing more of Frances.

“Mum seems to like you,” Frances explained, “and I’d feel much happier knowing she’s with someone she’s comfortable with. It would only be for a few hours a day. She’s settled in the mornings, as long as she doesn’t turn the television off by accident, and I check on her at lunch. It’s during the afternoons that she becomes restless.” Frances stopped, seeming as though she had to remind herself to breathe. “I’m back at five. You could come before I leave here after lunch.”

“I thought it was inappropriate for me to be here, or was that before you realised I could be of use to you?” Lucie snarked, bumping her shoulder against Frances’s. She wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to throw that one back at her.

Frances rolled her eyes, though her mouth betrayed her amusement.

“Can I sleep on it?” Lucie said. She liked the idea, but it needed thinking through before she agreed to anything.

“Of course,” Frances replied, her voice light.

“Thanks. It’s late; I should get back.”

Lucie stood and placed her empty mug on the table. She still needed to collect her belongings from the staff room, assuming security hadn’t locked it up already.

Frances stood too. “Thank you for listening.”

Lucie rubbed Frances’s arm. “Anytime.”

“If you have any problems getting to the staff room, call me. I have a master key,” Frances said, leading her into the hallway.

“I’d need your number for that.”

“Oh. Yes.” Frances grew flustered. “I’ll write it down for you.”