James Schwartz

Proserpina

I sighed and Lucien signaled to Betty, the stewardess, to come and take my glass.

I smiled wanly at her, brushing away my hair from my face. I had pulled on the jeans and jacket over my Tee and knew that I did not look well dressed, unlike the other occasions when I usually traveled with Lucien on his flagship aircraft.

Betty smiled sympathetically at me and disappeared into the kitchen at the back of the aircraft.

*

Once, when I was very young and Lucien was bringing me and the twins back to the US from Bhutan, where I had fled from him, it had been the very same Betty who had been on the aircraft. I remember wondering bitterly if she had also been one of the women who had slept with him.

Now I sighed and bit my lip and Lucien’s leonine head swivelled to look at me. Keeping my eyes shut, I avoided looking at him. In my heart of hearts, I knew that Lucien was still not too comfortable with Schwartz’s friendship with me. Even after all these years, I thought drily.

*

Lucien