Page 197 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

A small face appeared between the chair legs. Five, perhaps six. Dark hair in a braid that had given up somewhere around lunchtime, and a tablet held against her chest like a shield.

“Mummy said you wouldn’t be back for hours.”

“Did she?” I crouched down, slowly. “Where’s your mummy?”

“Cleaning the rooms.”

“And she left you here.”

“I’m quiet.” It came out fast, rehearsed. “I’m really quiet, and I play on my iPad, and I don’t touch anything. Please don’t tell her bosses.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” I thought of the two men downstairs who had spent the morning being kind to everyone who came near them. “I think somebody should tell the owners. They’ll want to help.”

The tablet came down.

“No.” She scrambled forward on her knees. “No, please. They’ll sack her. They’ll sack my mummy and then there’s no money, because Daddy spends it all, and if she gets sacked he’ll...”

She stopped and her chin wobbled.

“He’ll shout at her,” she said, and started to cry.

“Your daddy shouts at your mummy?”

She nodded. “That’s why I come here,” she said, when she could manage it.

“Stay there.”

I took an apple from the bowl and a bottle of water from the minibar, and when I put them into her hands she looked at the bottle as though I’d handed her something live.

“That’s expensive. Mummy says I’m never to touch those.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“She’ll be cross.”

“Then she can be cross with me. I’m very good at being shouted at, my father wasn’t very nice either.”

She gave me a shy, sweet smile..

“What’s your name?”

“Nelly.”

“Nelly.” I sat down on the carpet beside her. “I’m Mary. Nobody’s getting sacked today.”

The door unlocked and a young blonde woman of about twenty-seven came into the room. She saw Nelly first, and then me, and every drop of color went out of her face.

“Mummy, the nice lady gave me an apple and a bottle of water.”

“I’m so sorry.” She was already moving toward the desk. “I’m so sorry, I’ll take her, I’ll–”

“It’s fine,” I said.

She crouched and gathered Nelly against her. Her hands weren’t steady. “Please don’t say anything. Please. I know I shouldn’t have brought her here, I know, I just couldn’t–”

“I’m not going to say anything.”

She looked up at me, and I watched her decide whether to believe it.