Five Envelopes

Delilah brought five finished sections to Leonie’s office and no recommendation about what their owners should do.

She had written one the night before. Not formally; three sentences in a notebook while she waited for the kettle. They described a sensible common approach, preserved the strongest comparison and kept everybody’s options open. Reading them back, she had recognised the old pleasure of deciding what people would want if only they understood as much as she did.

She had crossed them out. This morning she brought the checked dates, the provenance answers and the changes each person had requested. Nothing else was hers to deliver.

Leonie met her in the small room where Oona had shown them the offer. There were no biscuits today, only two cups and a stack of envelopes waiting to be addressed.

“The reader has no outstanding questions about the revisions,” Leonie said. “I’ve marked the last…