JAMESIt's a relief to come to work. There's a lot to be said for having a senior position, people all around who understand you, work you enjoy and not constantly having some interfering bastard peering over your shoulder.I could do without all the paperwork though....I survey the pile of files, reports, applications for permission and other crap on my desk.I remember when I used to design bridges....Richard enjoys this stuff....Each to their own....I check my watch. I have a meeting on-site within twenty minutes.Would this be useful for her?I tap on my phone. "Charlotte, I'm going on-site to talk with Sam Callaghan. We'll be looking at the latest ground surveys on B-site. Do you want to come?""I'd like to, but I'm in a meeting myself. Do you need me there right now?""I can hang on for five minutes. I'll wait by the main entrance."I head for the elevator, throwing, "I'm going on-site, Francis," behind me. "I'm not expecting to be in again today.""
A figure steps down from the bus: Central Station - Barnbridge. She's a pretty girl, but she wears a dowdy print dress. In a style that was fashionable twenty years ago, now it makes the wearer look as though she is destined for spinsterhood or a life as a librarian.The girl looks around, her brilliant green eyes alight with excitement, darting here and there, picking out busy people, fashionable skirts and blouses, jeans cut low at the waist and tight at the thigh, and trendy sneakers in bright colours.Smiling delightedly, she sets out, following the crowds. A roadside stand is serving something that smells of sizzle and onions and she orders a large one, paying for it from a handful of notes curled up in a pocket. The stand owner raises a brow as he sees the money this young girl is carrying.She doesn't care. She's rich. She's never had so much money to spend. Seeing brightly lit windows and neon lights, she walks along, eating her burger. Nothing has ever tasted so good as
CHARLOTTEI'm scratching my head, writing a report for my next student assessment....Analysis of corrosion fatigue fractures in a cyclic degradation environment....The sample I'm supposed to analyse is the breechblock from the testbed in a proofing yard. It's not easy to examine because the damn thing weighs nearly twenty pounds and every time I try to move it, I end up nearly pulverising one finger or another........ when my office phone buzzes."Hello, is this Mrs Summerford? It's Kirstie down in Reception. Your brother-in-law's here for you.""Thanks. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."I can't say I'm sorry to leave the mysteries of corrosion fatigue behind. It's making my eyes water.In the lobby, Ben's waiting for me, his ass parked on the reception desk next to the new girl I'd noticed over the last few days."Hi, Champ," he says, giving me one of those smiles of his that, when he delivers them, lights up the room and makes him look a lot more like his br
CHARLOTTEKirstie has half a sandwich left on her plate but seems to have lost her appetite for it. "He seems a nice guy, and he asked me out."But my mind is whirring....They know each other....Is she an old girlfriend?"Ben's not like us, Kirstie," says Michael. "He thinks that relationships consist of one man and one woman. He sees the world through a narrower lens than we do. If he's got any surprises coming, take it easy with him."Her head bobs, but her eyes rise to meet his. She looks blue. "I was already thinking the same thing. And that perhaps I'm not being fair to him."Michael sits back in his seat, heaving a sigh. "So, you're planning on breaking up with him?"She pokes the half-sandwich around the plate. "Erm.... I hadn't really gotten that far. But I think he expects things from me that...."Things like exclusivity..."That you're not willing to deliver?""Yes."The sandwich has stopped being food and is now just target practice for Kirstie's fo
JAMES"Got your stuff?"Charlotte jams her hard hat and steel-toed boots into a bag, then patting at pockets, does a visible phone, purse, notebook, pen check. "Yes, got everything. You good to go?""Yes, let's get moving. I don't want to be late."We head down, Charlotte stepping out of the elevator ahead of me and heading smartly for the door.Ben's there, talking to Kirstie. He's smiling, but she looks uncomfortable, although Ben seems not to notice.His smile fades as he sees me."Oh hello, Ben. I didn't know you were around," says Charlotte. "Are you here to see me for something?"He replies to her politely enough, but his eyes are on me and are not friendly. "No, I just called by to say hello to Kirstie." This isn't the place for an argument....I switch to polite but cool mode myself. "Hello, Ben. Charlotte and I just going out on-site.""Really? What's happening on-site?"What's wrong with the man?"We're getting the groundworks set out for the new re
He's not expecting much from the trip. One boring meeting after another. If he's lucky, they might sign the contract this time. More likely he'll have to come back a couple of times while they prevaricate and demand more details, extra costings, more projections.But he's a professional. And a professional keeps smiling as long as it's needed to get the job done.A drink....Then an early night with a good book, or maybe a movie.In the lounge, discreet music plays. A fire burns in the hearth. A pleasant environment."What can I get you, sir?" "Malt on the rocks, please."A bottle. The clink of ice cubes and the glass slides across to him. He sips, inhaling the vapours and feeling the chill burn hit the back of his throat.That's good....He tugs his tie open, undoes the top button of his shirt, then perching a hip onto a stool, turns to survey the room.At the other end of the bar is a woman. Pale silk and paler skin are crowned by auburn hair which highlights gol
MICHAEL"Can you keep Charlotte occupied, so she doesn't think too hard about me not being around."James chuckles. "Of course. What have you told her?""That I'm going to be at a trade fair for a couple of days. I made it sound as boring as possible.""Great. I'll call you when I know something.""See you in a couple of days."*****I pull up, check the address, then park up.I chose early evening to arrive. It seemed the best time to reliably catch whoever was at home. Sure enough, windows are lit in several parts of the house.I check I have everything on me I intended, then take a couple of deep breaths....Here goes....Strolling up the path, I knock on the door. After a few moments, a light flicks on behind the door and it opens.I'm looking into the face of a man about my height, although much more lightly built and perhaps in his mid-fifties.Which one are you?"Hello, Mr Kimberley?""I'm David Kimberley, yes. Is it me you want? Or my brother, Step
Dear Davey, Stevie and Dad,I'm not sure if any of my other letters to you have reached you because I've not heard anything back from you. I don't really know where to begin except to say that I'm sorry that I left the way I did, and I wish I'd done it some other way. I hope that you're not still too mad at me. If you have had my other letters and you are still angry with me, please forgive me.And especially, I wanted to apologise that I stole your wallets. I have enclosed a money order for the amount I took. I sent it with the other letters too, but it was never cashed. I hope that makes it right.I'm doing fine now and I'm earning well. I have my own apartment. It's only a small one that I'm renting, but I'm saving up to buy my own place. If you are in the City at all, you could visit me. Or if you like, I could visit you. I'd love to come and see you.How are you all? How is Dad these days? Better, I hope? I miss him. I miss all of you.I'll keep this short now, but i
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