Page 99 of Lipstick Kiss

Freddie bolted down the back stairs and into the break room to find it empty. He swivelled on his feet to the back door, where he saw Bailey shake out his umbrella.

He looked as fed up as Freddie felt.

“Hello, Mr Turner,” Bailey said.

“Bailey, please call me Freddie.”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He called the footman by his surname but insisted he was called by his first name.

“It will be Mr Turner or Sir.”

Freddie sighed and grinned. He was rewarded with a warm smile.

“Where have you been?” Freddie asked.

“Seemingly on a wild goose chase. Miss Turner asked me to go into town to pick up a parcel at the post office, but when I got there, it was closed.”

“It was a ruse, Bailey, to get you out of the house so she could terrorise Imelda.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I have to do what she says,” he said, regret lacing his words.

“No blame, Bailey. Just thought you should know. My bet is that there never will be a parcel. Jennifer always collects the post for the Turner estate.”

“Yes,” Bailey said carefully.

“I’m going to see Imelda. Cynthia locked her out in the pouring rain, and she’s not well enough to get cold.”

A wave of panic came over Bailey’s face, then guilt.

“It’s not your fault, Bailey,” Freddie reiterated.

Bailey gave him a single nod, and then Freddie ran up the back stairs, into the foyer, and ran up the main staircase to their wing. Freddie and Imelda had the room at the far end, and their kids shared a room next door. He popped his head in to see their nanny in the play room. His kids weren’t in there.

Mrs Lions, their nanny for the kids, was putting away colouring books and crayons in the stacking trays in the far corner. She had been with them since Archer was born, but only for a few months after their children were born. Imelda seemed to take longer to recover from the birth of Daisy, their fourth child, so they asked her to stay longer.

“Hello, Mrs Lions,” Freddie said from the doorway.

“Oh, Mr Turner, you’re home,” she said, smiling brightly from the windows.

She was younger than him but by only a few years. Mrs Lions and Imelda got on so well that he hated they parted after a few months, but his wife insisted she raise their children and not a nanny.

“I am. Where are the kids?”

“Warming up Imelda’s bed. Melly came in with Maggie and ushered them up. She got them to play a game where they rolled back and forth in the bed to make it warm for Imelda. Maggie is looking after them while Melly supervises a quick bath and then into warm PJs. By the time Imelda is warm and dry, the bed should be toasty.”

“Genius,” Freddie muttered.

“Melly is full of great ideas. Better than warming pans, she’d said.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes, this is my last day,” she said. “I’m sorry I hadn’t realised Imelda was outside. I thought she’d gone to get some tea.”

“It’s not your fault, Mrs Lions,” Freddie said.

With Mrs Lions leaving that day, it solidified Freddie’s plans.

“Thank you for all you’ve done to help with Imelda and the kids while she’s recovering. We still don’t know why it’s taken her longer than the other three births.”

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