Michael gazes at the letter, then passes it to Chad. "What did he mean," he asks, "about his own experiences?""He'd left his old country, years before, to come here. Just him and his wife. He never really told me about it. But it was clear that he'd lived through bad times."Chad perches on the table beside her. "Jenny, are you still mad at me?" Sebastian looks over his shoulder, then turns away with an overly obvious show of disinterest.She lays her hand on his. "No, not anymore." She stares into space for a moment then, "I'll admit it wasn't always like that. There were times that if you'd been standing in front of me, I would have punched your face in, but that's long gone."He laughs, but the sound is rueful. "I'm pleased to hear it. I would have felt morally bound to let you land the punch."The doorbell rings.Perfect timing...Lighten the mood..."That will be Beth and Richard," I announce. "Michael, Charlotte, why don't you answer the door. Chad, Sebastian, wh
RICHARDSitting by me at the conference table, James runs a finger along the outline of a plan for D-Site. "So, if we complete the groundworks on sectors three and four here... by next week, we can move the heavy machinery on to sector five here and start laying the infrastructure for..."Outside the office, Francis' phone rings but neither of us takes much notice. James continues speaking... "... the electricity and the water supply..."Francis taps in perfunctory manner on the door then pokes her head round. "James..." She flicks a warning glance to me...Worried?James looks up. "Yes, Francis?""Kirstie is on the line. She says you have a visitor downstairs."Not his ex again..?It upset him enough the first time...James' straightens up in his chair, his chin tilting. "Who is it?""She says she's called Georgie and that you would know who she is."James rises from his seat as though he is on strings. "Tell her I'm on my way down."He looks as close to fluste
CHARLOTTETwo seconds to save my work, one second to slap down the lid of my laptop and I set off at a run. As I exit the elevator, Richard is waiting, perched on the edge of Francis' desk, head bowed. Francis' eyes are swimming."Georgie came to see him...?"Surely he'd be pleased, happy?"... What happened?"Richard raises his head. "Thank you for coming so quickly. We don't know what happened. She arrived and he looked delighted as he went down to meet her. As she left, she wouldn't even let him see her downstairs. He's in his office."I swallow, my breath pulling short. I tap softly on the closed door...The barrier...No reply.I tap again, more loudly. "Mas...."Francis..."... James?"No reply."James.... Master?"I turn the handle with reluctant fingers.Inside, my Master stands with his back to me, hands clasped behind his back, staring out of the window over the Cityscape."Master?""Leave me alone, Charlotte. ""But Master...""I said l
RICHARDI click off the video connection and almost immediately, there's a tap at my door.James?Waiting for me to finish?"May I come in?"Yes... James...He looks terrible..."I wanted to apologise."I gather the sheaf of papers I was working with, injecting a business-like tone into my voice. "There's nothing to apologise for my friend."Sounding unconvinced, "No?""No. We all have low points in our lives and I'd say you had one of those yesterday." I regard the man standing in my doorway...Face sallow...Pupils like pin-holes...Eyes like piss-holes in snow..."How's the hangover?""About what I deserve... Thank you for looking after Charlotte last night.""I wouldn't have had it any other way, James."He stands, head lowered, seeming lost for words. This isn't the James I know.You're not right yet, are you... Not by a long way...I stand, walk across to him and am about to slap him on the shoulder....Hangover...Splitting headache...
JAMESSleep escapes me. My green-eyed Love lying next to me, my friend beyond her, I toss and turn in the dark, my mind churning.Georgie...Family matters...Michael was right to pull me away that day. He enjoys a drink as much as anyone but doesn't normally overdo it.When did I last see him drunk??When he believed he was losing Charlotte...... to me...He's right, partially at least. It helps blot out the worst for a few hours. And he went there with me. Stayed with me.But it's only sticking-plaster over the wound...... and there's a chasm inside me.As pale fingers creep through the panes, I give up on sleep and moving as quietly as I can, pull on some clothes and head for the kitchen. Then, coffee in hand, I go outside to sit and stare.What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare...This spot, this view, normally calms me. The long slide of grassy slopes down the mountain, the lake below.Soul food...But inside, I am
MICHAELTime to step in...I rise, striding across to stand behind her. Reaching around I hold her wrists tugging them, none too gently, behind her back, then in a voice loud enough for James to hear. "Your Master expects you to be on your knees, not crawling up near his face."Her breath catches. James' eyes meet mine and his mouth twitches...Pupils dilating...That's doing it...One palm on her shoulder, I press. "Down, madam." As she drops, James' gaze follows her. "That's better," I say, backing off a step or two, giving him room to move. He circuits her as, head bowed, she submits."You should be naked, Charlotte," I say, "before your Master."Head still bowed, she nods, her hair swinging, hands moving from the flat of her thighs to the hem of her pullover. I beat her to it. Fisting one hand into her hair, I tug, raising her head, lifting her to kneel upright. "Take it off then."She lifts from the hem, up and over her head. She's not wearing a bra and her skirt
KLEMPNERI step out, feeling bright. Everything is going perfectly.Bech's done well...Nothing like a little competition to get the prices upAnother shipment like that and I can open the east wing at Blessingmoors...So Yakovlevski wants a mix...A couple of leggy Russian types ought to fit in well...Back to Helsinki...But first I want to see the apartment. Keys jingling in my pocket, I head out.Will she like it?But as the lock turns smoothly and the door clicks open, my doubts settle.What's not to like?The space is bright and airy, morning sunshine spilling through panes and onto, as I requested, new flooring and walls painted in cool neutral colours.Much better than what she has...And she can soon put her own stamp on it...The carpets are deep and thick. Nonetheless, my footsteps echo in the empty rooms.To furnish or not to furnish...?Let her choose from the start?Or furnish first then she can change it to suit herself?Do it in the
KLEMPNERMitch stands, a hand on one hip, head tilted back. "All right, so I can just accept all this..." She sweeps an arm around the room and to the door... "... and then tell you to get out of my life. Is that one of my choices?""No... Don't do that. Mitch, I only want...""I'm going now," she says. "This has gotten thoroughly out of hand. I can't imagine what you thought you were doing." She turns, heading for the door. "You'd better make arrangements to reclaim your property.""I can't. I told you. I've put it in your name. Like it or not, legally it's yours."She halts. "Really? You actually did that?""Yes. I don't know what I have to say to convince you. It's yours. Legally. A gift. To you. From me. If you did throw me out of your life, it would still be your property."Her head falls, her throat bobbing."Won't you at least try it?" I say. "Stay here a few days? I'm going to be away for the next couple of weeks. I wouldn't be here." Her eyes shift to mine. "Yo
A sound... Charlotte clearing her throat. "Ummm...""Yes, Charlotte." Richard swings around. "I believe that makes it your turn. James... Together or separately?""You're the guest, Richard. You choose.""In that case, I think together. Heads or tails?""Oh, tails I think, if that suits you?""Absolutely."As I withdraw from Beth, tucking away my subsiding erection, I help her upright.Richard and James both stand, side by side, towering over Charlotte. I back away from the action, giving them space, but take Beth with me, pulling her down onto my lap as I sit, nuzzling into her neck. "Thank you. You have no idea how much..."She twists back, kisses me on the mouth. "I think I did know."James and Richard are both stripping off jackets, ties and shirts, kicking off shoes. "I think Charlotte's about to get it big time," she murmurs."I'd say so, yes."James drops to his knees, settles between her thighs.Richard unzips, releases himself, then stroking his erectio
MICHAELheading south, I tug at the ties of the thong, pulling away about a square inch of satin as the flimsy thing falls away.Richard sucks in air. "So, James, where would you like me to start?""I'm sure you don't need instructions from me..." James drops eyes to Beth's smooth pubis. "... An old hand like you." His gaze shifts to Charlotte... "But I think we'll adjust the furniture a little." Rising, he takes a stand-mirror from the corner of the bedroom, moves it to the side of the bed, adjusts the angle, then stands back to gauge the results. He adjusts it a little, measures it by eye again and then nods. Charlotte has an excellent view of her own sex."Would you like her opened a little further, Richard? I imagine you'll want to reach everything easily.""Excellent idea, James. The knees wider I think, and we'll lift her hips."It's a game they play, the pair of them, torturing her with anticipation, but Charlotte's eyes tell a tale. The two Doms work as a team, J
MICHAELI sit, staring at nothing, thinking about...... Nothing...Maybe I should get something to eat?My gut's griping. I've not eaten all day. Sally brought me one of her usual offerings for lunch; a plate-sized bacon and egg sandwich and a can of beer, but the smell turned my stomach.Scruffy ate well though along with Kirstie's tribe, running wild around the gardens in hairy, waggy, excitable enthusiasm.The pint-sized rag-tag lies by my feet. Occasionally he looks up at me, whining. I scratch his ear and he settles again.There's no sign of James and Charlotte other than James' tablet on his armchair and a book, marker inserted, on Charlotte's favourite spot on the settee. With no real interest, I look at the cover. 'A Song of Ice and Fire - A Dance with Dragons.'The scent of something is drifting in, James' cooking I assume. A part of me says it smells rich and savoury, winey and herby, but my gut recoils.Just a coffee maybe...I head for the kitchen, but
MICHAELI don't much feel like breakfast, but for the sake of form, I join Mitch, James and Charlotte in the kitchen, downing a coffee, then pouring another.James is on his usual 'toast and coffee only' breakfast. Mitch works her way through yoghurt and muesli, eating tidily and sipping at a cup of peppermint tea.Charlotte's standing on tiptoe, rummaging at the top shelf of the store cupboard. James stands, walks across. "What are you looking for?""Pickled onions.""You don't like pickled onions.""I felt like one sliced up on my sandwich."I've already seen the other items laid out on the worktop for Charlotte's 'sandwich', along with the expression flitting across James' face as he saw them too.Hmmm...But he snakes up a long arm to the top shelf and takes down a jar.In some fascination we sit, watching Charlotte assemble a peanut butter, avocado and pickled onion sandwich, on crusty bread cut thick enough to use as a draught excluder. In a final flourish, sh
JAMESIt's a nice area. A pretty area. And it's a day for seeing it at its best.Yachts and pleasure boats float in bobbing ranks on sparkling water. Tourists walk by with ice creams, tossing coins to cross-legged artists sitting by pavement chalkings. Shops sell souvenirs, art and holiday wear.The apartment block is clean and well-maintained. The hallway as we approach the door smells of new carpet and fresh paint.Mitch stands outside the door, seeming to gather herself together, then taking a breath, she inserts the key, turns it, opens the door and we step inside.It's... lovely...Sunlight dances over walls painted in soft neutral colours. They complement the furnishings, made from some pale golden timber, perhaps beech."Can't fault his taste," comments Michael.Paintings dot the walls, abstract mainly, except for a single striking piece taking the centre of one wall; an image of ice and broken water in astonishing rainbow hues."Amazing painting," I say, looki
RICHARDJames steps out of the elevator looking...What?Harassed?Worried?"James?"He looks to me then jerks his head towards his office. I follow him in. Silently, he offers me a small, padded envelope, still sealed. "This was waiting for me down in the lobby. Special delivery.""A packet?""Look at the addressee."I look, extract spectacles from my top pocket and look again.And the hair rises on the back of my neck.Michelle Kimberley, c/o James Alexanders."Klempner?""Who else could it be? Conners wouldn't know where to find her. Michelle's brothers would probably send it to her direct. So, who else?""James, before anyone opens that envelope, could it be a letter-bomb?"He blows out air, rubs his forehead. "I wouldn't have thought that was Klempner's style... If he wanted her, he come after her himself..." He paces the room. "And why would he send it through me?""You parted... amicably... from Klempner? After the shooting?"He huffs. "I'm not
MICHAELJames interrupts my gardening. "You seen Charlotte?""She said she was going for a walk." I nod along the road. "She went that-a-way." I straighten up, pressing hands into my lower spine. "Actually, now I think about it, her tone was a bit odd.""You look as if you've done enough for a while. Want to take a break and stretch your legs?""Good idea. I'll just tell Chad we're going out."I find him inside, paint bucket in hand, slapping emulsion on a bedroom wall. "James and I are just going for a walk. I don't think we'll be long."He cocks an eye at me, his expression assessing. "You might like to know that Mr Kalkowski is buried nearby, in the churchyard.""He is? I thought...""He had no traceable family, so he stayed here. Some of the holier-than-thou churchy types tried to kick up a fuss about it, but Mrs Collier kicked up a bigger fuss and they found a space for him.""Gotcha."He moves to the window and points a long finger along the road; the same dir
MICHAELThe lawns might have been mown, but the shrubs and borders are heading for the sky. A quick exploration of a small back shed produces saw and secateurs, so I set to, getting the garden back under control."Hello."I turn to see a woman, standing by the garden gate. Wearing jeans and a shirt, her hair tied tightly back in a ponytail, she has a prim, pleasant face. "Hello, I'm Eleanor Collier. I've been keeping an eye on the house. I saw something was happening...?" I stand, wiping muck and sap off my hands and onto my pants, then stride forward to offer my hand. "Michael Summerford." My brain connects the dots. "Collier, was it? Charlo... Jennifer's foster mother?"Her face lights up. "That's right. You know Jenny? She's here?""I'm her husband. And yes, she's here." I yell towards the upstairs window. "Charlotte! Friend of yours here." I gesture to the gate. "You'd better come in."From above, a movement at the window, then a clatter down the stairs and Charlotte
JAMESMichael...He's depressed...What can I do?Change of scene maybe?*****"Charlotte, I was thinking, we're about due for your road-trip."She pauses, half a sausage impaled on a fork midway to her mouth. "Road-trip, Master? What road-trip?""Have you forgotten that you were bequeathed a house? And everything in it. Perhaps it is time to make good your claim?"The half-a-sausage drops back to her plate. "Go back to the farm you mean? The last time I was there, they... they weren't very welcoming."Michael is listening, chewing on toast and marmalade, suddenly looking more animated than he has for days.Thank God..."Things have changed since then, haven't they," he says. "You've spoken with your friend Tom. He knows the truth of what happened. And of course, there's Chad."Still she stares at the sausage and the fried egg congealing by it. "I'm not sure..."I pour myself more coffee. "Even if all you decide to do is sell the house, you'll need to visit