He was such a beautiful little boy, slightly stringy, with a nose that he would surely grow into, thick black hair, and dark, soft eyes; her maternal instincts told her to scoop him into a hug and hold him as long as he would allow. But he was only a flat printed image of the boy who used to be, and she shouldn't be looking at the picture anyway, she was sure he would hate it, be embarrassed by it. He had no need to feel embarrassed, never in front of her. He looked so serious for being so young, a trait that he would never outgrow, he would carry it with him to the grave, she was sure of that. At the sound of footsteps she walked back to the appropriate side of the desk.
"Mrs. Hughes? What are you doing in here?"
She looked up into the little boy's handsome face, he did grow into his nose, it looked just perfect on his face. His dark eyes, now framed by fine lines, were still soft and innocent; his thick dark hair was giving way to gradually thicker streaks of silver. Her instincts still told her to throw her arms around him and hold him as long as he would allow, and still she was unable.
"Just looking for you, Mr. Carson, we need to have a chat about James, I think."
"Oh good heavens. What's the boy done now?"
"I think this rivalry he has with Alfred with getting very close to being out of hand."
"I wouldn't disagree with you there" he sighed while walking past her to get the opposite side of his desk. His eyes fell on the photograph she'd been looking at and he quickly shuffled it amongst the few other papers on his desk, in hopes that she hadn't seen it. He didn't know why, but he felt embarrassed, especially in front of her.