“So you're saying it was all the imp's fault?” Gillian raised an eyebrow. “But I remember you telling me that creatures of Hell can't cause the death of a mortal.”
“True, but you're forgetting Julie wasn't a mortal. She was nephilim and therefore not subject to the same regulations that cover dealings with mortals.” Jasfoup folded his arms, a sure indication he considered himself winner of whatever point was being made.
“What does it matter who's to blame? The point is, she's gone and there's nothing we can do about it. It's a nuisance and a bother, I know, but I'll just have to find someone else to look after the shop.” Harold paused, certain from the looks on his two friend's faces that hadn't come out as he'd intended. “And someone to look after Lucy, too. Someone we can rely on to be part of the team.”
“If you say so, Harold.” Jasfoup indicated the departed Dill with an upward nod. “So long as it's not of the zombie persuasion, eh? I can just imagine Mrs Fitzwilliam's expression when a zombie came into the playground to collect Lucy.”
“Mrs Fitzwilliam?” Gillian looked to Harold.
“The infant's school headmistress. I'm surprised she's still there. She was ancient when I went to school.”
“She was in her late twenties when you were at school, Harold, and the truth is, she's been away and came back to Laverstone for her last few years of teaching. Don't ask me why, but she likes it here. She will until she gets Lucy, anyway.”
“Lucy will be the brightest star in the classroom.” Harold grinned down at his child. “She's a genius.”
“And we all know how easy they are to get along with.”
“I resent that.” Harold huffed. “I was considered a genius at school.”