One afternoon in early February, Emma arrived home from a tedious shift at the hospital to find Chun busy in the kitchen and the maid pottering in the garden. After welcoming her employer with a dazzling smile and offers of tea and cake – Emma declined both as she had only just had a cup and a biscuit in the nurses’ station – Chun directed her to the two letters on the table in the hall. Not anticipating post, Emma had walked right past them.
Post?
She forced herself through her usual routine, depositing her handbag and her uniform in the bedroom, splashing her face with water in the bathroom and then heading to the living room, collecting the letters on her way by. She switched on the fan and directed the breeze at her favourite chair. Ernest would not be home for a few hours at least.
