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
CHARLOTTE"Toast, Master?" I offer the rack, stacked with crisp, golden and gently steaming slices. He's sitting part-dressed to head for work, in a clean white shirt. A curl of dark hair shows where the top button is open.He's not paying attention. His gaze is so far away. Wherever he is, he's not with me or Michael in our beautiful mountain home."Master? Would you like some toast?"His eyes refocus, swinging to me. He smiles, but the smile is pale and wan. "No, thank you, Charlotte. Just coffee is fine.""More coffee then? I'll make another pot.""Thank you, yes." And he looks away again.He looks.... lost....I make the coffee, grinding extra beans so it's strong, the way he likes it. As I return to the table, Michael is saying, "So, what's it today, James? Anything interesting?" He seems not to hear. "James?"He turns to Michael. "I'm sorry. What was that?""Anything interesting happening today? You're usually full of whatever's happening down on that City Pro
MICHAEL"Perhaps not, but we'll keep looking."She blows on the milk, takes a slow mouthful. "What I'm meaning is, it's about continuity, isn't it. As long as I'm here, there's a bit of her too. And my father. It's not all gone. And if...""If what?"She chokes up. "He's so unhappy. He's usually so full of life; so full of... of take-it-in-big-bites... He's... It's just not him.""He? Who? James? I thought we were talking about you?""Yes... No... Yes...""Charlotte, you're not making a lot of sense."Looking away, she drinks more of the milk, but moonlight reflects from the tears trailing down her cheeks.I lay an arm over shoulders, kiss her face. She's chilled, tasting salty. "You want to find your mother. He wants his daughter back." I rub at my forehead. "I hate seeing him like this too. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but he'll get over it."She turns to look at me. "You think so?""Time's a great healer. Georgie turning up like that might