Helena was quiet, sitting in a corner of the room with the two children, listening to the others talk. She had thoughts of course, mainly about the complete incompetence of the police, but it was not her place to speak.<br/><br/>She smiled a shaky smile at Cooper when he came over. "I'm..." fine, she almost said because that was what one usually said. "Not feeling too good," she amended, "but thank you for asking. And thank you for your kind assistance before." She knew she had not been too polite to the man on the stairs. Mistrusting and rude more like. And yet he had proved the perfect gentleman.<br/><br/>"I think I should take the children elsewhere, if that's alright?" She said to the police-officer. "Downstairs to the kitchen...?"<br/><br/>She wanted, very much, to take them out of the drawing room. Away from these people who were discussing their father's death. Thank goodness the children seemed to have not-yet realized that horrible truth.