Charles had gathered Elsie into his arms when he heard rapping. He opened the door to find 5 year old Master George with a fierce scowl. Pushing the Butler's knee, he marched in and announced to the room, "A word, Carson?" "I'll be in my parlour," Elsie said quietly, pulling the door to peek through the gap. Fists on hips, George tipped his head back as far as it would go and stared up at the man. "I've decided to run away, Carson, would you have Morris bring the motorcar around?" What happens next?

Elsie could have burst out laughing were it not for her hand pressed over her mouth to stifle this. Ever the unflappable butler, Charles remained blank and nodded at the request, frowning slightly.

"Doesn't a motorcar defeat the object of running away?"

This made the boy think for a moment, "I only have little legs, and I can't run very fast"

The young boy, bright blue eyes and floppy blonde hair, looked so serious as he made his request to the butler, stumbling back a little in his effort to look up. Charles noted this and picked him up so they were of equal height.

"And why would you want that young sir?"

"I want to find my Papa"

Elsie's face literally dropped. They'd dreaded the day the lad would ask about his father. The family did all they could to avoid the subject, even monitored stories read to him, but they were fools to think they could hide it forever.

"May I ask why sir?"

"Sybbie has her Papa. I want mine. But he's not here, I looked. So I will go out and find him."

"You're right lad he's not here, but he's also not out there either."

George blinked, frowning slightly.

"Where is he?"

Charles let out a sigh, it was not for the servants to explain such things as death to the boy but how else could they get around it.
He sat in his arm chair, wrapping an arm around the child, the other resting on his knee.

"He's gone I'm afraid."

"Gone away? Like a holiday?"

He shook his head, "No lad not a holiday."

"Well…is he coming back?"

Taking a moment to compose himself Charles admitted; "No."

It took seconds for the boy's eyes to fill with tears, which pierced Charles' heart.

"Why won't he come back? Doesn't he want to see us?"

At this Charles' voice began to crack with repressed emotion, "I…I'm sure he would…give anything to."

"Then why won't he!" The boy was almost shrieking by this point, his lip trembled, his tears threatened to spill down his reddened cheeks and his little fists began pounding the butlers chest. However Charles was saved by the Elsie returning and kneeling in front of them, taking one of George's hands. The lad turned at this and two sets of piercing blue eyes met – he stilled, the warm eyes of the loving woman calming him instantly. She placed a photograph in his hand, a spare from a time long ago the family and senior staff had portraits taken for the family archives.

"That laddie," she pointed to Matthew, "is your Daddy.*

There was silence as he processed this information. He could recognise his mother easily so he knew it had to be real.

"Papa?"

Both adults nodded, carefully monitoring the boy's reaction.

"But…if he's here…where is he?"

Elsie bit her lip for a moment before explaining.

"You remember when your Aunt Edith says prayers with you and Miss Sybbie every night?" He nodded, "and you know who you're talking to?"

"God."

"That's right. Well, you're Daddy's gone to see him."

"So he is on holiday?"

"No laddie, Daddy passed away, which means he can't come back." The lad may not have understood but it didn't stop his lip from trembling, "but it's alright. Because God is taking good care of him, just as he's taking care of Miss Sybbie's Mammy, and they're both happy."

"But why can't he be happy down here, with me, and Mama?"

"Because when people pass away they can't come back, but God takes good care of them. And they're watching over you, just like him."

"So…Papa is watching me?"

She nodded. "He loves you, so he's making sure you're alright."

"He can still love me even though he's not here?"

"Always."

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can pray, he'll hear you, he may not be able to answer, but he can hear you."

This seemed to placate the boy, who held the photograph to his chest and looked up at the ceiling.

"I love you too Papa."

Tears sprang in the eyes of both adults and Elsie pressed her lips softly to the boy's hair.

"I should go back to nursery now shouldn't I?"

Charles lifted the boy to the floor. "You should, Nanny will be looking for you."

He held the photograph back out to Elsie but she shook her head "you keep it Master George, you can keep it by your bed."

He looked down at it and smiled, "When Aunt Edith does prayers I can hold it and say mine to Papa."

"You can."

"Thank you" He gave them both a small smile and headed for the door, "I promise I won't run away…"

"That might be best sir" Charles had helped Elsie up from the floor and they stood looking down at the boy in awe.

"…Else Mama wouldn't have anybody to cuddle." With that he left, slowly pottering out into the servant's hall and up the stairs, the photograph clasped to his chest.
Leaving the heads of staff in a tight embrace overwhelmed by feelings brought by his visit, but never more glad to still have each other.

I've never explained death to a child so this was actually harder than I thought and I probably should have gone with something fluffier, thank you VanillaPod for your help.

How do you think I did?

xXx