As afternoon stretched into early evening and the shadows began to lengthen, both Henry's and Vesper's eyelids began to become heavy. The jetlag had finally caught up with her, and as it was nearly midnight now in London and she had hardly slept the night before, she found it very hard to keep her eyes open as she tucked her son into his new bed.

He promptly fell asleep and she hesitantly left his darkening room, slipping out into the still-foreign living room and sinking onto the sofa. It was very quiet in the flat, the stream of people past the window having petered out, and the exhaustion was becoming very hard to fight off.

She tried, though. Because as night began to fall the optimism she'd felt in the sun began to ebb away, and found herself hesitant to sleep in a new bed. She missed her bedroom in South Croydon, missed having Henry close by in his little basket. She'd not yet purchased a baby monitor, as she had had no use for one previously, and wasn't keen on sleeping so far away from him.

But she soon found herself nodding off on the sofa, and she hesitantly made her way towards the room nonetheless.

She stopped first to check on Henry, who was still sound asleep. It was nearing eight o'clock now and she knew he would be awake in six hours or so to eat. She kissed him softly on the nose, then exited his room, taking care to leave both her and his doors open so she could hear him if he should cry.

She pulled back the covers of her bed and changed clothes quickly, as the olive-green sheets were beginning to look very inviting indeed.

She climbed in, looking out her window at the darkening courtyard. She was suddenly missing London very much. It was funny how nightfall brought on those feelings, that homesick nostalgia, driving home just how alone she truly was. She was alone in a city where she knew no one, had no roots.

But, she knew, tomorrow would be a new day and this was a warm, vibrant, busy city. And it was out there for her and Henry to discover.

There would be plenty of time to get accustomed to it, to get used to calling this home.

So as the bustling metropolis outside her window carried on, coming alive as the sun went down, she drifted off to asleep.

Ω

As expected, her son woke her near two with his hungry cries, and she was stricken with the momentary confusion one finds upon waking in a bed not their own.

She fetched him from his room and brought him to her bed to feed him, then laid him beside her when he was done. Now sated, he nodded off, and she was helpless to follow.

She woke before him that morning, leaving him to rest, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. The sun was beginning to come up, and the sky was cloudless. It was going to be another sunny spring day in New York City.

Vesper smiled. As much as she'd loved London, she had always loved the sun, and it was likely she would be getting a lot more of it here.

She set about unpacking their belongings as Henry slept, putting away her clothes in her wardrobe, and filling his drawers with his little garments.

Henry slept until seven, waking up rather peacefully. She smiled at his sleepy little face, his eyes blinking tiredly, and quickly changed and dressed him for the day.

She nursed him as she watched the news on CNN, which she had done countless times before in Britain, but it was different now that she lived in this country. As the news anchor went on about Senator John McCain on the campaign trail for an election that was not for another year and a half, and Florida moving up its presidential primary, she could only shake her head in wonder.

It was one thing observing American politics from afar, but now she was so close to all of it. It involved her, in a way, even if she could not yet vote. She was still a British citizen, of course, but the time would possibly come in the future when she'd seek citizenship in this country.

When her son was sated, she took him around the flat, showing him the view. It was nearing eight o'clock and people were out and about, the morning run in full swing.

There were dog-walkers and pram-pushers, joggers and children in prep school uniforms. There were also men and women in expensive suits, all rushing past, moving quickly, all early birds trying to get the worm. It was such a different pace than she was used to.

At half past eight, as she was preparing to take her son out for his first walk round New York City, there came a knock at the door. Vesper froze. She was obviously not expecting anyone, hadn't been informed that any would be dropping by.

She stepped over to the door and peered through the peephole, surprised to see a young woman's face on the other side.

"Who is it?" Vesper called, her son clutched to her chest.

"My name is Christina," the girl replied, and Vesper detected a hint of an as yet unidentifiable European accent, "I've been sent to help you."

Frowning, Vesper opened the door slowly, keeping the chain secured, and looked at the girl through the crack in the door. She was young, twenty or so, with a pink, round face and a great deal of curly yellow hair. The girl looked up at Vesper with mild surprise.

"You're Laura, right?" the girl asked, and Vesper hesitantly nodded. "M sent me," the girl said, lowering her voice and glancing around the corridor. "She thought you might need some help."

M, Vesper thought, of course she did. Vesper set about one-handedly closing the door to remove the chain, and hesitantly opened it again, looking at the girl.

"She didn't mention she was sending anyone," Vesper said, and the girl shrugged.

"She thought you might need some help with Henry," she said brightly. "I have good references."

Just then, the telephone in Vesper's flat rang for the first time, and she turned, looking at it. She looked back at the girl, sighed, and motioned for the girl to enter.

"Come in," Vesper said, closing the door behind her. "This is Henry," she said, pointing to the baby she held against her.

"Hi, Henry," Christina said, smiling at him as Vesper reached for the phone.

"Is she there yet?" came M's before Vesper could even say hello. Vesper rolled her eyes.

"Yes, she just arrived," Vesper said, leading the girl over to the sofa. "It's M," she whispered to the girl and Christina nodded.

"I would have appreciated it if you'd told me earlier you were sending someone," Vesper told her, when she'd stepped into the corridor, out of earshot of the girl. "I would have told I'm fine on my own."

"Perhaps for the time being," M's voice came back. "But you will need some help, in the future. It's not easy finding nannies you can trust in New York. This girl's father works for us," M said, and, surprised, Vesper turned to look at the young blonde sitting on her sofa.

"So she can be trusted. She lives just down the street from you. I thought it wise to introduce her to you now so she can get acquainted with the both of you," M went on. "She can help you around the flat, as well, if need be. We'll pay her salary until you're back at work."

Vesper sighed, still watching the girl. She hadn't put any thought into what she was going to do with her son when she went back to work. She had expected that M would take care of it for her, but not as quickly as she had.

Her first impression of the girl had been one keen to work and to please. She'd arrived early and wasn't shy, and seemed amiable enough. And, it was true, if this girl would possibly be caring for Henry for days at a time, it would be practical for the baby to be allowed to get familiar with her.

"So?" came M's voice in her ear, pulling her from her thoughts. "If she's not a good fit, I can find someone else." M paused, her voice softening, "It can be desperately lonely raising a child on your own Miss Lynd. I know you're starting to understand that, and I also know that you are fiercely independent. But it will be very beneficial to have someone in your life you can trust and depend on, don't you agree?"

Vesper sighed, looking down at her son, and then back over at the girl, still sitting on the sofa, looking out the window quietly.

"I suppose," Vesper replied, sighing, "I'll see how the day goes."

"Splendid," M said, "I'll be in touch."

Smiling in spite of herself, Vesper hung up the phone and approached the girl on the sofa.

Ω

As it turned out, Vesper had very little to worry about. The girl, Christina, a German émigré who had moved to New York at the age of ten with her parents and younger brother, was great with Henry. Vesper reluctantly handed her son to her, soon after getting off the phone with M. She was a natural.

She held him, walking around the flat as Vesper liked to do, and the boy did not fuss or cry. He had only ever been held by his mother and by the doctor back in London, but he took to the girl right away, and she to him.

Christina, Vesper later found out, was nineteen years old and had graduated high school the year before, and was forgoing university for a few years, much to her mother's consternation, in order to earn money in the meantime as a nanny for several wealthy clients.

She was also very knowledgeable about what sort of things babies needed, detailing for Vesper all the toys and mats and chairs she should get for him. Vesper listened as Christina explained her various theories on babies and toddlers, and how to teach them and handle their tantrums. Vesper could only listen quietly as the girl went on, she was so passionate and well-informed.

So Vesper took Christina along on her and Henry's first walk out in New York City. Vesper wore Henry in his sling, taking him out from time to time and carrying him.

Christina recommended she get a front-facing carrier so that Henry could see, and a buggy as well, (or stroller as she called it) and directed them to a baby goods store the next block over.

Several hours later, arms laden with goods, they stepped out, taking a cab back to the flat to set up the toys and various contraptions. When they were done Vesper could only look around the living room and Henry's bedroom in wide-eyed wonder, astounded at just how many things one little baby could require.

Vesper found it was nice to have someone to help her out, to do the washing up while she fed Henry and tidy the place up while she made dinner. The girl was also fairly easy to talk to, was funny in a dry sort of way, and as the day went on Vesper found that she and the girl got on quite well.

So, later that evening, after Christina had left, when M called her, despite the fact that it was nearly two o'clock in the morning London time, she informed her that the day had gone well and Vesper would not be opposed to having the girl stay on.

M sounded very pleased indeed.