After supper, the family scattered. Elizabeth and Malcolm retired to Sir Nigel's office, Rebecca retreated to her bedroom, and Alexis stationed herself in the kitchen. Over Chantal's protests, she picked up a cloth and started washing the supper dishes.
"Miss, you can't do that," Chantal said, pleading with Alexis. "If Lady Finch sees you, she'll have kittens!"
Alexis smiled to herself. "I need to do some thinking, Chantal," she said, "and this is my way." She stopped the washing-up and looked over her shoulder at the flustered maid. "Look, why don't you go and... relax. Or..." Alexis frowned slightly. "Do whatever it is you do when you're not at my mother's beck and call."
"There is no such time," Chantal said firmly. She lifted Alexis' hands from the soapy water and reached for a tea towel. "Now you dry your hands and leave this to me. I could get into such trouble!"
Alexis sighed. She really wasn't in the mood for a tug-of-war with the staff, and Chantal was right: if Elizabeth knew about this, there'd be hell to pay.
"All right, all right," Alexis said, wiping her hands on the towel and tossing it onto the counter. "Have it your way." She sighed again and headed upstairs. Maybe she could find a book to stare at while she tried to decide what to do about her sister.
Walking past Rebecca's room, Alexis couldn't help hearing her voice through the closed door.
"Tonight?" Rebecca was saying. Alexis held her breath leaned in, listening. "Yes, I can meet you. The same time?" There was a pause, and then, "No, mum doesn't suspect a thing, and Lex is busy with her gay American friend." Alexis nearly laughed aloud. "Oh, I love you too, Wolfie," Rebecca gushed, and then came the sound of the receiver being replaced.
Alexis moved quietly along the corridor and headed towards the back of the house, to Stephen's old room. He may not have come home in twenty-five years, but there was something that her older brother could do to help, even in absentia.