They said that if you listened in the quiet of the night, you could hear the faint tinkling of the xylophone in the wind. You could hear it throughout the house, all the way to the nursery, but if you opened the door, the music would stop.
Mr Lee opened the door, Mrs Lee and Nanny peering in behind him.
“Didn’t you keep it last night?” Mr. Lee asked Nanny as he eyed the xylophone.
“Of course I did,” Nanny replied in a huff, wrapping her gown closer around her in the cold night chill. “Locked it in the cupboard, didn’t I?”
“You can’t have,” Mr. Lee insisted. “It’s right there in the middle of the table.”
“I did too, and kept the key with me too, I did.”
“Does someone else have a spare key?”
“Not that I know of. You ain’t accusing me of lying, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Mrs Lee interjected, glaring at her husband. “Look, it’s three a.m. And we’re all tired. Let’s go back to bed and talk about it in the morning.”
“Here - aren’t you going to put it away now?” Mr Lee said sharply as the two women turned to go.
Grumbling, Nanny shuffled off to her room to look for the key. She found it in her coat pocket. Under the watchful eye of Mr Lee, they locked the xylophone back in the cupboard. Mr Lee took the key from Nanny. “I’ll keep this for now.”
As he drifted off to sleep again, he could hear the sound of the xylophone, tinkling in the silence. He stared at the key in his hand.