Michael – Twenty WeeksI'm enjoying the view. Looking over the sea, the sand and the dunes is pretty good. Watching Beth and Charlotte sitting together exchanging pregnancy notes and gossip is even better.Then the peace is broken...Raised voices...No... not exactly raised... but determined... Angry even...And without a hint that either party intends to back down.Who is it?I cock an ear...James and... Ross??What on earth would they be arguing about?The girls both turn, Charlotte's eyes wary, Beth's worried.Putting my drink down, "I'll see what's happening. You two stay here." I follow the palaver back inside, meeting Richard en-route, who looks as baffled as I feel. "What the hell would those two argue about?""Not a clue. We'd better see what's going on."And together we track the racket to the kitchen where James and Ross are manoeuvring for position around the table like a pair of bull elephants with toothache.Ross slams an onion down onto a
Klempner - ThailandIs that him?Pushing the spectacles up my nose, across the dining room, I survey the entrance lobby and the group just entering. Three men, all Hispanic types plus a blowsy-looking female cramming a size-sixteen body into a size-twelve dress. No. He'd never be with a woman looking like that.The hotel is classy-looking, expensive. It should be considering what I paid.Air-con whispers over the assembled diners. They murmur, telling themselves they're enjoying the high life as they eat over-priced meals. The food's good but considering some of the slums not so far away, and the money some of the locals get by on, the prices are offensive.Odd... There was a time that wouldn't have occurred to me...I sit reading my tablet, propped up by a jug of oil and another of chilli sauce. Occasionally, I fork up prawns and rice in a vivid green sauce. Fragrant with garlic, limes and cilantro, it should be stirring my appetite, but my attention is elsewhere.Thi
James - Twenty WeeksStretched out on a lounger: I enjoy hot sunshine, the whisper of a quiet sea, a good book and on a tray by me, a jug and glasses, chilly enough to drip dew.Perfect.Close by, Richard doing much the same. Change my book for his newspaper and there's not much to choose between us.He scans the financial news. A quick look sidelong at his headlines...Markets rise...Boom in housebuilding...Richard Hmmms in satisfaction, then refolds the paper to read the international section.Drugs trafficking, Afghanistan...Organised crime, Thailand...Gang violence, Columbia...Can't they ever tell a good news story?Charlotte's taken up her accustomed post by the edge of the pool, dabbling her toes, watching Michael and Beth...Is she going to join them?But she seems quite happy simply to watch.She's so beautiful.My Jade...And my daughter... so far, only a smooth curve to her mother's belly. Beth's pregnancy is even less visible.Beside
James - Twenty-Nine WeeksWhat's she looking for?Standing in the kitchen doorway, I watch as Charlotte, her back to me, rummages through the shelves of the store cupboard.The latest tee-shirt is already tight, rolling up a little over her expanded waistline as she stretches upwards. Muttering to herself, she works through tins and jars then, with an audible Mmmm... takes a plastic container from the top shelf. Unclipping the lid, she extracts a slab of chocolate brownie.Caught in the act."That will be your third this morning, Charlotte."She jolts, looking over her shoulder at me, pressing fingers to her mouth as she chews then gulps. "Michael brought them over from the hotel for me when I said I fancied something sweet."Stepping across to her, I take the cake from her hand and replace it in the box, minus one bite. "He brought enough for everyone. I don't think he intended you to eat the lot yourself."She drops her eyes. "If you don't want me to eat them," she mu
James - Thirty-Two WeeksI perch a hip on an old stone wall, looking down the mountain, the meadows, the lake. The weather is fine and warm; late Summer drawing into Autumn and...Life is good.I have the woman I love, friendship, money, rewarding work, a wonderful home and, in only a few months, a new baby daughter. I raise my glass in a silent toast.Looking forward to meeting you Cara...My cup overflows.Where's Charlotte?I'd like her with me, just to share this moment.Heaving myself upright, I go in search of her. I move easily. With the sunshine, even my bad leg is behaving itself.I find her in the restaurant, by the big picture window that looks down the mountain to the lake, Charlotte sits between Michael's Gran, his Aunty Edna and another of the tribe that I don't recognise...Or do I? I have trouble separating out the legion of old harpies occupying the upper echelons of Michael's family, but I do vaguely recall Michael threatening me with a nasty
Klempner - ThailandI set out early, catching the sunrise and making the most of what passes for the cool of the dawn here. Even given the purpose of my trek, I can take the time to look around and appreciate the beauty of my surroundings.I've travelled pretty much everywhere that is reachable without being Shackleton or Hillary, and while it is something I enjoy, the actual 'travel' part of travelling is usually uninteresting. There's only so much variety in cabins and airports.But this is different.There is something about walking: hiking to your destination, connecting with the landscape, that makes the journey more real. And it doesn't get any realer than it is here.So early in the day, hiking up the trail through verdant forest, high up the mountain; sun-slanted mist weaves through the canopy.Trail over-plays the track I'm following. No human laid this route. Some animal probably made it, but of course, most of them are much closer to the ground than I am. From my
James – Thirty-Five WeeksI stride into the kitchen fanning smoke away from my face.Charlotte stands by the grill, the pan a grisly mess of soot and curled-up charcoal.She bursts into tears. "I burned the toast."Briskly dipping a tea-towel into the sink, I drape it over the grill-pan, then pull her into a hug. "It's not a disaster. No harm's been done. And we can afford another loaf." I guide her to the table. "Now sit down and I'll make you some more toast. What would you like on it? Honey? Marmalade? Cheese?"She sniffles, her face low. "Just butter, please." Then she jerks up again. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean...""Charlotte... Charlotte..." I draw up a chair by her, pull her face to mine, kiss her forehead. "You have it all out of proportion. Come on, see the funny side." I cast down. "Look, Scruffy will eat your burnt offering if no-one else will."Then I regret my words. The pint-sized mongrel grins up ingratiatingly, displaying more teeth than the average w
Klempner - ThailandHours later, my water-break is a half-forgotten dream. I'm sweaty and uncomfortable. The sun has westered beyond the treeline and shadows draw long.It's been tough; not so far in terms of distance covered, but the going is steep and over broken ground that bizarrely, has left me with a crick in my neck from constantly looking down to watch where I place my feet.But it's levelling out now, getting easier, and I'm leaving the treeline behind me, the trees thinning. Still hiking hard, I check the mapping app. Despite my break, I'm where I intended to be by now, the trail skirting around the mountain, more or less on a contour.Behind me, above and to my left, the forest is thick and impenetrable. To my right, ahead of me, a sheer drop, some hundreds of feet of rocky cliff-face, has opened up the view. I look over mile upon myriad mile of forest, stretching out in waves of mountain height, valley delve and misted crevasse.But on the edge of my vision, forwa
It's cold outside, but Klempner sits on the low terrace wall wearing no more than a thin pullover."Want one of these?" I proffer a coffee, heavily laced with whiskey, topped with thick cream.He startles, but then, "Thank you, James." He doesn't smile. His eyes are soft with melancholy as he stares down, watching October mist curling over the lake."Will you visit the grave?""Yes." The single word isn't followed by any others."When will you go?""Sooner rather than later." He breathes steam and fragrant alcohol. "I'm making arrangements now. The Canadian winter arrives early and in force. It'll be under six feet of snow there very soon, and for the next several months.""Would you mind some company?"He twists to face me. "You want to come?""I'd like to pay my respects to the brave woman for whom my daughter is named."He blinks, nodding as he casts his gaze down. "Thank you, James. I appreciate that.""Charlotte wants to go as well."And now he smiles. I
JamesFamily...All gathered together around the breakfast table: Michael to the left of Charlotte, I'm to her right, bouncing Cara on my knee while Charlotte takes a break to get some food down her throat. Beyond Michael, Beth feeds Adam, Richard flanking them.Klempner and Mitch sit side by side. She's turned discreetly away, feeding Vicky. Larry watches, still wearing that slightly spaced-out expression...Man-in-shock?For all the right reasons...Charlotte is very quiet. She eats, but her gaze sweeps the table and back again.Once she had nothing...Briefly, her eyes lock with her father's. He cocks his head, eyes full of question, but then her gaze moves on.What's he thinking?It's not hard to figure. Right from the time Klempner arrived back with us, although he's clearly content to be here, he's had an air of... waiting...The Rat-Tat! of the front door rattles down the hall.Michael pushes his chair back. "I'll go." A half-eaten slice of toast in one h
RichardMy intercom buzzes. "Yes, Francis?""I have the police commissioner on for you, Mr Haswell. He... doesn't sound very happy."I can guess what this is going to be about. I've been waiting for it. "Thanks for the warning, Francis. Put him through please..." The line clicks and reconnects. "Richard?""Good morning, Will. What can I do for you?""I think you can guess why I'm calling you. I'm hearing rumours I don't like. Disturbing rumours.""I believe, Will, that I know which rumours you mean. I've been wanting to discuss them with you. Perhaps you would like to meet for lunch to discuss the matter? Somewhere quiet? ""And away from the office? Yes, I think so."*****The waiter sets a plate in front of each of us, steak in pepper sauce for Will, a prawn souffle for me. He tops up the glasses of Cabernet. "Is there anything else, sir?""No, thank you. That's perfect." I wait until he is out of earshot before I speak. "So, Will...These disturbing rumours?
KlempnerThe view is restful. Living in Mitch's small apartment, hidden away from the world, does...... I suppose...... constitute 'domestic bliss'. But that's at night. For much of the day, we spend our time in the main family home of Jenny's Triad. The women chatter and gossip. The men alternate between business and banter. One or other of the babies always needs attention...It's exhausting.But when it comes to it, that's not the root of my problem.Retreating from noise and activity and 'family-fun' to the sanctuary of the terrace, I let the view wash away the anxiety gnawing at the back of my mind.It's always the waiting...Give me action and some lunatic with a gun every time...Stay calm...Mist curls over the lake far below. On the slopes close by, every blade of grass is etched with a rime of frost that will thaw to dew when the sun crests the mountain. Further down, the individual blades meld into a smooth sheet of silver that merge into haze and wa
Two coffeepots later, we've run out of croissants and moved onto toasted muffins. James slices one in two, dropping the halves into the toaster. He pauses, "Another one, Beth?"She's sitting up against the headboard, next to Charlotte, the two propped up against each other, eating from a shared plate. Beth slathers butter and blackberry jam onto what she has. "Thanks, but I'm fine with this, James. I'll not eat again 'til suppertime.""Charlotte?""Mmmm..." She nods, mumbling through a mouthful, wiping a smear of melted butter from the corner of her mouth. She swallows, then holds up half a muffin - minus two bites. "What is it about muffins and bad weather? I always want more of them."James rolls a look at her, then to me, shaking his head...A wise man says nothing...Richard sucks jam from his fingers, lips smacking. "On a complete change of subject... Elizabeth and I were talking..." Beth falls still, her shoulders slumping... "... Please don't take this the wrong way,
MichaelIt's dark...What woke me?Somewhere down and beside me, the sound of whining. "Scruffy? You need to go out, boy?"At this hour?What the hell time is it?I'm snug and comfortable, draped with a thick duvet. Charlotte, warm and fragrant, sleeps tucked in beside me. Through the curtains, it's pitch-black.Scruffy whines again, this time scratching at the bed.Wonder if he's eaten something he shouldn't?Stretching an arm blindly out beyond the cosy comfort of the blankets, I pat across the side-table, hunting for the light switch. When I find it, as it turns out, it's not Scruffy's habit of eating every bit of rubbish he comes across that is at fault. The clock tells me it's half past seven and my rag-tag mongrel is making a perfectly reasonable request to be let out to relieve the pressures of the night.But outside, there's no sign of daylight and, joys of joys, rain lashes against the window.Goodbye to summer...Scruffy's whining ups by half an octave
JamesAn orderly tries to block the way, arms outstretched in front of the door. "Sir, you can't..."Klempner simply brushes by him.From beyond, Mitch's voice. "Let him in..."The orderly spins, mouth open. "What? All of them?""Yes!!!! Ah... Fuccckkkk...."The monk's feet skid uselessly over the polished floor as he tries to resist his inexorable forward journey into the delivery room. His voice rises to a wail. "But I'm not a priest. I can't do this." Klempner growls, "I don't care if you're a priest, a rabbi, an imam, or if you ran the Bring-and-Buy at the church garden party. The lady here wants our child born in wedlock. You're going to marry us."Klempner turns his attention to Mitch, lying on her back on the delivery table, yelling her way through another contraction. She flings out an arm, grabbing at his wrist. He winces, but lays his other hand on top. "We'll just let this one pass..."The midwife, checking a bleeping monitor, flashes a look at Mitch. "Yo
RichardMy mobile bleeps: James.Landed. at airport now. home approx 90 mins. Tell Mitch he's keenElizabeth grins at me as I tap in the reply.don't go home. come city hospital. Mitch in labourThere's a short pause...Elizabeth holds up her hand, counting down silent fingers: Five... Four... Three... Two...... and my mobile bleeps again.When M go into labour?3 hrs doc and midwife say early but all normal all goodWith you ASAP K got taxi flying on wings of fire*****The corridor is painted the required institutional off-white, scraped black in long stripes at trolley-bed height. The lighting is the compulsory harsh fluorescent white. One strip blinks on and off. Signs point off down apparently identical corridors: Intensive Care... Reception... A & E... Chapel and Prayer Room... Radiology... Cardiology... Breast Screening...How many ways is it possible to be sick?Footsteps echo along the corridor; marching footsteps, almost stampeding footsteps.A
KlempnerAt last, I get some privacy with her. James ushers out Jenny, protesting all the way. Michael leaves too, turning as he exits to give me a kind of approving nod.Haswell poured glasses of champagne, passing them around at their side of the screen, although I did notice that he poured for Mitch from a different bottle. The top of the flute is just in view, spitting the odd bubble over the rim."Are you alone now?"She looks sidelong, off-screen. "Yes, they've gone.""What's Kirstie doing there?""I'm fitting her for her wedding dress. They've set the date for Christmas, remember.""I didn't know that.""Oh... no... Of course you wouldn't." She takes a sip of her bubbly, looking away. "It's been so long. They said you were dead. The police said there was a body.""There was, but not mine."She peers into the screen, searching my face. "How are you? What happened?""I'll tell you sometime, but not now. What's important, is how you are and..." I nod down, bel