“That’s right. Six.” Melissa Curtis pursed her lips. “Well she didn’t steal the scarf, did she, Mrs Simons?” Mrs Simons blushed again. “...o. It was a prank and I fell for it.” “Indeed you did, Mrs Simons. Indeed you did,” Melissa Curtis said sternly. “The question is what we do about it.” Mrs Simons stayed silent, not sure if it was a question she was supposed to answer. Melissa Curtis looked at her notes before looking back up and gazed steadily at Mrs Simons. “The fairest answer would be that. I watched this older man as he worked away with the younger guys painting and papering and so on. He was as pleasant and friendly as he always had been and I found myself feeling guilty for how I loathed him all those years earlier. He was irritating he was just nice. On their last day in our home I was making the decorators tea when, alone in the kitchen with Richard I told him who I was and asked if he remembered me. His face lit up and he got excited as he recognized me almost immediately.. More

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