Lucien saw Alice out of the house, her empathy touched him, he'd been glad she was there.
Mei Lin had retired to the bedroom. His bedroom, but they both knew he would not be joining her there; he'd spent the previous night in his study with a bottle of whisky, he wasn't sure where he'd be tonight, probably the same as before.
That left Charlie and Jean tidying up the dining room.
Charlie look the glasses into the kitchen where Jean stood, gripping the edge of the sink. He stopped, not sure if she was crying or not.
'Jean?' his voice low and soft. He usually called her 'Mrs Beazley', but 'Jean' seemed more fitting now.
She took a deep breath and turned towards him, not looking into his face.
'Oh, thank you,' she took the glasses and put them into the hot, soapy water.
He moved over to the sink, collecting a tea towel on the way,
'What's happening?'
All he could see was a horrible mess and in the middle of it, Jean, breaking apart, but trying so desperately hard not to.
'I don't know, Charlie.' She couldn't look at him, his gentle blue eyes would finish her 'I just don't know.'
He put the tea towel down and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. He knew she would be mortified if she broke down and cried in front of him, but he could see she was perilously close to it. If it was his mother standing there in front of him, he would have wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, but it was Jean...
She placed her hand over his, touched by his tenderness, 'Well are you going to dry the dishes or is that towel just for show?' She tried to joke, not particularly successfully, but Charlie knew the subject was not up for further discussion.
Jean put the last of the dishes on the drainer and dried her hands on her apron.
'I'll finish here,' Charlie said, 'if you want to go to bed.'
Jean had had just about enough of being brave and resilient for one day.
'Thank you, Charlie,' she whispered, patting his arm. She took off the apron and draped it over a chair, just as she always did.
She headed to bed, pausing at the bottom of the stairs as she saw Lucien, looking lost in the hallway. Her eyes flickered towards the stairs and she headed up to lie on her bed and let the hot tears, that had been pricking at her eyes; loose, to fall, unrestrained down her face.
