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“No.”

Hadley looked at the older boy. He looked truculent, his lower lip out, his eyebrows lowered. “It's fine, Henry,” she said in a calming voice.

“Henry, do you intend to apologize for disrupting dinner?” Florence asked.

He snorted. “Nah.”

“In that case, it would be best if you took yourself to bed now.”

For a moment Henry's mouth hung open. “What?” he said eventually.

“You heard me,” Florence said calmly.

“But I'm not even finished. I'm hungry.”

“You should have thought of that before you started being disruptive,” said Florence.

“But—”

“No talking back, please. Leave us now.”

Hadley started to say something. Okay, the kid was being naughty, but it wasn't much more than mischievousness in her opinion. But Henry was already shoving his chair back so hard that it fell over.

“Fine. I don't care. I don't want to eat dinner with your stupid face anyway. I hate you. You're a bitch.”

He ran from the room, slamming the door behind him. Florence gently wiped her mouth with her napkin before she stood up. “Please excuse me,” she said, and followed Henry, leaving Hadley with the twins.

“He's mad because he doesn't have his fucking tablet,” Charlie supplied, helpfully.

“Oh,” Hadley said, then remembered who she was and where she was. “We probably shouldn't say fucking though. It's more of a grown up word.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, thoughtfully. “Okay then.”

“What does 'bitch' mean?” Emily asked, mouth full of chicken.

“It's another grown up word,” Hadley supplied. “Why don't you guys finish up here and then we'll blow out these candles and go to the kitchen to see if we can track down some ice cream?”

“Florence said we were supposed to have fresh fruit,” Charlie said doubtfully.

“Mmm, but she didn't say that we couldn't have ice cream with it, did she?”

Charlie's face cleared and he hastily started eating his vegetables.

Maybe she was in over her head. Henry was a handful, and Florence at least seemed to deal with him calmly. Hadley wasn't exactly sure what she would have done if Florence hadn't stepped in to deal with his little outburst.

Probably just sat at the table and been pelted with peas for the rest of the meal.

Which even she had to admit probably wasn't the greatest in childcare strategies.

When the twins were done, the three of them trooped off to the kitchen where the older lady, who cheerfully introduced herself as Mrs. Mercier, was more than happy to supply ice cream to go with their fruit.

Neither Florence nor Henry had reappeared.

“Shall we get ready for bed?” Hadley asked, as the twins scraped their bowls clean.

“Okay,” Emily shrugged.

As they went up the stairs, Charlie snuck his hand into Hadley's and her heart almost broke at the fragility and warmth of it.