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“So this really is someone else’s fairytale.”

“Yes. You have no idea how touched I was by that statement.” Gregory sat forward. His fingers twitched, then settled on his knee.

Did he want to touch my hand, too?

“She really said that?” Martin asked.

“She really did.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hire her on the spot.” Martin snorted.

“She has to meet Gran, first, and I thought I ought to explain this bizarre situation to her.” Gregory looked amused at that. Then he sobered. “When we moved here, Hanna, everything was fine. Gran was over the moon. Then the episodes started. Just at night, at first, then progressively more during the day. She kept saying we needed to have a governess. A child needs a governess. Always that word, never ‘nanny’ or ‘babysitter’ or ‘caretaker’. A governess.”

“Which is why it’s not a pedantic correction.”

“Exactly. I suppose the word goes with the fairytale. Well-to-do British children had governesses. Though we couldn’t figure out why she wanted a governess for a child at all, since, no child here.” A frown creased his mouth down. “Dementia is fucking cruel. Sorry. Crass language. Gran would be angry.”

“Itisfucking cruel,” Hanna agreed.

“When she was younger, before she married my grandfather, Gran got pregnant by her first husband. Then she had a late miscarriage. She was able to hold the baby before it was taken away to the mortuary.” Another deep breath to steel himself. “The nearest we can tell, Gran thinks her child is here. Her dementia is telling her that the child got older, and that she’s raising it.”

Hanna put her hands over her mouth. “Oh, no, how sad for her. For all of you.”

“Her most agitated times are when she feels the child is alone but shouldn’t be, like at night, or during events, so on. She’ll tell us he’s lonely, or frightened, and she’ll be very upset unless she’s with him. It’s starting to take a toll on her quality of life. And her health.”

“I imagine.”

Gregory scrubbed a hand over his face. “She had a heart attack not long after we moved here. Her cardiologist wants her to stay as calm as possible. This isn’t helping. We’d all like it if she didn’t have to be sedated or kept drugged to stay calm. There’s little enough time left for her. It’d be nice if she could spend her last good months, or years, enjoying herself.”

Now Hanna understood. “That’s why I’m here. You need the appearance of a governess to put your grandmother at ease.”

“It seems awful to say. I can’t tell if it’s a necessary deception, or just cruel to play into this. So far, this is literally the only thing that upsets her here, and I kept thinking, what if we could avoid taking away her alertness and remaining coherence just by bringing in a governess?” He let his hand drop. “It’s sort of a Hail Mary. I don’t know if it will work.”

“It’s a kindness, Gregory,” Hanna said immediately. “It’s a kind, creative solution. If it doesn’t work, then you know you tried your best, and that she’s slipped too far. But if it does?”

“If it does.” His look was full of gratitude. “You understand. Thanks for that. I know it’s really damn unusual to hire a governess for a child who doesn’t exist. I don’t think it’s going to be an easy job. Gran will know if you’re condescending to her, or not taking this seriously. Given how dementia is, that may change from day to day.”

“I’ve never worked with elders. But I’ve had tea parties with imaginary friends. I don’t want to imply your grandmother is a child, just that, ah…”

“Just that there’s some overlap between ‘imaginary friends’ and ‘taking the child of a grandmother’s mind seriously’. I understand.” Gregory turned back to the displays. She thought he looked grateful for a change in subject. “The job is to play the part of a governess, maybe offer my grandmother a bit of companionship, and whatever else comes out of it. If the pay I’m offering isn’t enough, I’m willing to negotiate it.”

“It’s plenty.”

“The job will last until my grandmother passes away, or until she just can’t live here anymore. Afterwards… Well. I was serious. You’ve got a passion for handling logistics, whatever form that takes. Problem solving. Maybe we can see what the company has to offer you. I’d like to think some good will come of this.”

“So would I. And I’d appreciate that chance. We’ll see when we’re on the other side of this, all right? No expectations.” Hanna nodded.What a horrible situation for them. I don’t want to capitalize on anyone’s loss. But if it all worked out, if we were friends and if they thought I could do a good job… There’s no harm in turning a terrible time into a nicer one, is there?

His posture relaxed. “You’re far more than I’d hoped for when I put that ad up.”

Martin cleared his throat. “And you definitely did that yourself. I’m not taking any credit for that load of rubbish.”

“It’s possible I got a wild hair and took out an ad before I consulted Martin,” Gregory admitted.

Hanna giggled. “Uh-oh.”

“Not a mistake I’ll make again. Now, the final test before I officially offer you this position, Hanna Sparrow.” Gregory stood up, then offered her a hand up.

She took it and did her best to ignore the tingle of their skin together. “That sounds dire.”


Tags: Cassandra Moore Paranormal