Rebecca, for her part, was having a perfectly ordinary morning. She had noticed that Mr. Caleb’s door was closed, which sometimes happened when he had a lot of work, so she left him to it. She cleaned the sitting room, dusted the hallway, tidied the kitchen after breakfast. She watered the plant in the corner of the sitting room the way Grace’s folder had instructed: not too much, just enough to dampen the soil.
She was calm. She moved through the house the way she always did, quietly, carefully, without rushing.
But the word she had heard through the dining room doorway 2 days ago was still with her in the way certain things lodge themselves in the back of the mind and stay there no matter how many ordinary tasks you pile on top of them.
Victoria.
She had not told anyone. There was no one to tell. And besides, she was not sure what she would say. I heard my employer’s old friend mention my mother’s name at lunch.
It was not strange. Victoria was not an unusual name. It meant nothing.
She went about her work.