They were all looking at her, expecting an answer. This was far worse than she’d imagined; she wasn’t just letting her mother down anymore but also the people she respected and admired, the ones who had believed in her. And she couldn’t even tell them why.

“Come on, Alice,” said George, “how far have you developed this idea?”

Was there any way she could stay longer, perhaps leave in a few more weeks? She pulled out her notebook containing schematics of the idea, clippings from newspapers that, once investigated and researched, might make for bigger human-interest stories. There were the schoolboys now working as zookeepers, the child wardens, and small children reunited with long-lost parents, but there wasn’t nearly enough to illustrate the idea, let alone content for a whole book—not yet, anyway.

Alice looked at her employer, knowing that whatever she said now she wouldn’t be able to deliver on; it would be someone else’s job.

Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she was drowning under the weight of their expectation.

“Well, at least we have something to think about,” Ursula said, coming to her rescue. “We can have a brainstorming session after lunch. There are other things we need to discuss now, aren’t there, Tommy?”

“You can make a start now though, can’t you, Alice?” Tommy asked. “Draw up a list of possible stories, people to interview.”

“Of course, but—” It really was terrible timing, but she couldn’t wait any longer; the worrying was keeping her awake at night. “I’m so sorry, and I realize this is awful timing . . . but I’m afraid I can’t work on these books. I’ve got to go away for a few months.”

George looked confused. “What do you mean, Alice?”

“My cousin is about to have a baby, and her husband has just been killed.” The lie made her throat constrict. When she glanced up, George was glaring at her, and Ursula looked surprised. “I’ve got to move in with her for a while. She’s a mess, you see. Heading for a breakdown, my mother said.” Her cheeks burned as the blood rushed to her face.

“What about your mother?” George asked. “Or isn’t there someone else in the family who can help?”

“George!” Ursula snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, Alice. That’s terrible news, and I’m sure we are all very sorry for your cousin. Please give her our profound sympathies. And there really isn’t anyone else who can help look after the poor woman?”

“I’m afraid not, George. It’s up to me.”