"But I still don't understand why you'd want to go and work in a school full of silly girls!" Pip protested for what felt like the hundredth time. He was sitting on the end of Edith's bed, forlornly watching her pack her suitcase for the following day's trip down to Somerset.

Edith chuckled dryly. "I'm a girl, too, Pip," she pointed out.

"Yes, but not a silly one - all clothes and giggling and squeaking at the sight of spiders!" Pip rolled his eyes.

Edith tweaked his nose. "You're being horrid, my dear, and I don't like it."

"Am not," Pip muttered sulkily.

Shutting the suitcase, Edith sank down onto the bed next to him. "I don't even know if they're going to offer me the job yet, Pip."

"But they will!" Pip retorted, as if it were the worst thing on Earth, and snuggled into the arm Edith offered. "And then you'll leave and Papa will be all sulky and growly like he was after Mama died and - "

"Darling Pip," Edith sighed, "I think you're vastly overestimating the influence I have on your father." She kissed the top of his head and Pip suddenly burst into shuddering tears, burying his face into her blouse. Edith held him tight, lips still pressed against his hair. "Wherever I go, however far away I am, my darling… you know that it won't change anything between you and me. I'll always love you. I promise. And there are always letters."

Pip clung more tightly to her. "But it won't be the same! You won't be here when we need you."

Edith had no answer for that. Deep down, she knew Pip was right. But what other solution did she have?

Mrs Dale edged into the room. "Mr Stewart says we'd best put your case in the car now, Mrs Crawley, if it's all packed. Less to do in the morning that way, with you having such an early start." Catching sight of Pip, her face melted into an expression of sympathy. "Come on, Master Pip, no use sobbing all over the place." As she spoke, she winced, her hand going to her back. Edith noticed that there were beads of sweat on her forehead. "Pip, darling, carry my case down for me, would you?"

Pip dashed away the last of his tears from his cheeks and lifted the case, trudging despondently from the room. Edith touched Mrs Dale's arm. "Are you quite all right, Mrs Dale?"

"Fit as a flea!" she returned immediately. "Mrs Crawley, I'm the sort that's never ill."

Still Edith frowned anxiously at her. "Perhaps I should postpone my interview - make sure there's someone here to look after you."

"I don't need looking after!" exclaimed Mrs Dale. "Less of your cheek, thank you, my girl." She shook her head. "Now, off downstairs with you for dinner."

"Mrs Dale…"

"Go on." Mrs Dale shooed her towards the door. "Food'll be getting cold."

Doubtfully, glancing back over her shoulder several times, Edith went.

With a loud exhalation of breath, Mrs Dale sank down onto the bed, eyes closed.

"So, Miss Crawley…" Dr Robinson looked at Edith over her thin, gold-rimmed spectacles. "What exactly do you think you could offer our establishment?"

Edith swallowed and took a nervous gulp of water. Veronica had said her old headmistress was terrifying, but somehow Edith hadn't been expecting someone so direct and stern. Sat there in front of her, she felt twelve years old and scruffy. Resisting the urge to check her hair or skirt, Edith answered.

"I'm… efficient. Organised."

"So your reference says." Dr Robinson frowned down at it. "Ripon. Hmm."

"Yes, Dr Robinson."

She looked up again, those startlingly sharp grey eyes boring into Edith's. "The family estate of an ex-pupil of mine is near there, that's all. You may know of her. Veronica Orton."

Edith blushed. "Veronica taught me to drive, Dr Robinson."

Was that the hint of a smile on the older woman's lips? A dry one, certainly, but a smile nonetheless. "Why does that not surprise me, Miss Crawley?" She shook her head. "Veronica and I had… several memorable discussions in this room while she was a pupil here. It is… rather reassuring to learn that she has not lost any of her spirit."

Edith smiled. Perhaps Dr Robinson wasn't so terrifying after all.

"Well, Miss Crawley, I'm perfectly happy to offer you the job, if you would like it. It'll be more work than you may be used to, but I have a feeling that you'll pass muster. The only thing is… if you were to take up the position, I would like you to start as soon as possible. Preferably immediately, in fact."

"I-immediately? As in… now?"

"That," Dr Robinson returned somewhat severely, "is what the word immediately in general means, my dear Miss Crawley."

"Yes, o-of course, Dr Robinson." Edith took a breath. "I…will have to telephone to Locksley for my things and - and confirm with Sir Anthony that he does not need me to work out any more of my notice. But… I don't imagine that there will be any great difficulty." There were only two suitcases, after all. And Sir Anthony, she imagined, would want her out of his house as soon as possible. The thought of what Pip would say and do when he found out that she had left without saying goodbye in person gave her momentary pause, but Edith ruthlessly hardened her heart. It would be far easier for Pip to recover if they did not drag the whole thing out any longer than necessary. Yes, this would be better for everyone concerned.

"Mrs Crawley?" Sir Anthony's voice was weary as he answered the telephone. Stewart must have told him who was on the line. "How was your interview?"

"Very positive. Dr Robinson has offered me the job."

There was a crackle as he exhaled down the line. "Congratulations." But he did not sound congratulatory at all. In fact, he sounded thoroughly miserable. "When shall we expect you back at Locksley?"

"That's my reason for telephoning, actually, sir." Edith hesitated. "Dr Robinson would like me to start immediately. Given that I've already provided ample notice of my intention to leave your employ, I wonder if you'd allow me to… just stay on here. Would Mrs Dale or - or Molly mind having my things packed and sent on? There isn't much."

"No. I mean, of course, that's perfectly reasonable. Most probably the best course of action for all concerned, under the circumstances." His voice sounded very hollow. Another heavy sigh. "Will you speak to Pip? He's doing his prep."

"Y-yes." She sounded much more fragile than he had been expecting. "All right."

There was silence and then Pip's voice asked in a rush, "Hello? Mrs C.? When are you coming home?"

"I - Pip, darling…" Edith's voice cracked. "Well, my dear… I've got the job."

"Oh." Pip was silent for a moment, and then he asked, "Wh-when do you have to leave?"

"That's the thing, Pip. My new employer… wants me to start straight away." She paused, and then rushed on, "So… your papa and I have agreed that I'm just going to stay on here and… Mrs Dale is going to send my things on to me."

"You - you aren't coming back? Not at all?" Pip's voice was tiny.

"I'm sorry," Edith whispered. "I… didn't plan for it to happen like this. I'll… send you my address. Write to me whenever you like, my darling." She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. "Can you put your papa back on the line, please, Pip?"

"Yes. G-goodbye, Mrs C."

"Goodbye, Pip."

"Mrs Crawley?"

"Sir Anthony."

"I've spoken to Mrs Dale about your clothes and other things." His voice was brusque and taut. "She'll arrange it at once."

"Good. Thank you." Edith wanted to say so many things to him, but now the moment had come, it was all perfectly impossible. Instead, she settled for the practical. "I… I don't think I'll be able to telephone Lady Gervas, or Veronica. I'll write, of course, but - "

"I'll explain the situation," he interrupted.

"Excellent. Well… that's all I telephoned for." She hesitated. What did one say to a person one loved so much, and hated so much at the same time? There was only thing to be said, she supposed. "Goodbye, Sir Anthony."

"Goodbye, Mrs Crawley. Good luck."

Anthony set the telephone down before she could reply and then Pip was in his arms, sobbing - sobbing so hard that Anthony did not think he would ever stop.