Episode 2.
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A Nanny?
The question had niggled harmony josiah on an of throughout the fourteen hour fight from Buenos Aires to sydney. It had reared its tantalising head from the very first reading of his grandfather's will, pertinently included with all the other official notices sent to him in the solicitor's packet. Now that his journey home was almost over and he was about to get answers, it pushed once more to the forefront of his mind.
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Why on earth had his grandfather employed a nanny for the last two years of his life? And why was she listed in the will as another responsibility to be inherited by beau, along with the rest of the family retainers?
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A nanny made no sense to hime. There weren't any children living in his grandfather's household. None he knew of anyway. Certainly none had been named in the will. There seemed absolutely no point in including a nanny-whoever she was amngst the staff who were to remain as his dependents for at least another year, if not for the rest of their lives.
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It was different with the others. Harmony was completely in sympathy with looking after Mrs. Featherfield who was virtually an institution as his grandfather's housekeeper. Sedgewick, the butler, and Wallace, the chauffeur, had almost equal longevity. As for Mr. Polly, the head gardener, tipping him out of his beloved grounds was inconceivable. Each one of them deserved every consideration. But a nanny-come-lately without any children to mind?
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Harmony turned her name over his mind.... Michelle Frank. Michelle sounded rather old-fashioned, spinsterish. For some reason he linked frank with frank lampard because he was a chelsea fan. She could d dog nanny, fallen on hard times. His grandfather had a habit of taking in the occasional oddity, putting them on their feet again. But two years of largesse and an inclussion in the will seemed a bit much. "we wil be landing at mascot on schedule," the pilot announced. "the weather current temperature nineteen degrees Celsius. Forecast for today is..."
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Harmony looked out of his window and felt his stomach curl, hit by a wave of grief he'd been holding at bay since he'd received the news of his grandfather's death. The distinctive features of Sydney were spread out below, the predominance of red roofs,the harbour, the bridge, the opera house. Thir view had always meant coming home to him. But home had also meant david josiah, the man who'd taken in his orphaned eight-year-old grandson and givem him the world as his playgrond.
Not so much of a grandfather as a grand person, Harmony thought, keenly, feeling the huge bite that had been taken so abruptly, so shockingly out of his life. David josiah had lived on a grand scale, had cultivated a grand approach to everything he'd done. Hir heart should have been grand enough to last a lot longer.
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To be continued
