First thing next morning, they are back on the case. Getting Alex up, dressed and fed is anything but speedy, but a whole lot slicker than the previous day. No shower today, and thankfully no need for serious toilet duties. Breakfast is cereals for Daniel and yesterday’s leftovers for Alex. Leaving the dirty dishes for their return, Daniel downs the last of his coffee and gets busy. Back and forth between their two rooms, he hurls the clothes they need into an overnight bag and zips it up. At least they can afford to travel light. He hasn’t just splashed out on a posh hotel not to be get his money’s worth: complimentary bedroom slippers, dressing gowns, toiletries, toothbrushes, they’ll have the lot, thank you. Minutes later, he has the bag across Alex’s knees, additional luggage slung from the handles, and is taking the chair through the kitchen and out of the flat.
The extraordinary sight that confronts them in the lobby feels profoundly symbolic. For the first time ever the hallway is empty – a clear run past the stairs through to the exit. Sedgefield Court gives them its blessing to be gone. Even Santa – way past his allotted twelve days – winks them a fond farewell on Mrs Cropley’s behalf.