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
Has she been hasty?Over-reacted?Mitch wanders the lovely apartment. Light and airy. Just what she would have chosen for herself once she'd earned the money.He's taken notice of her tastes.In the one bedroom, the double, clean white linen. In the other, the same but on the twin beds.He volunteered to sleep alone...He gave her choices...She makes herself tea, sits on the window seat looking out over the marina...That wonderful Christmas...That beautiful ship...Another harbour...His love-making...She sets down the teacup, placing it carefully on the saucer. A finger stroking the line of her jaw, she watches as a rowing eight makes its way between pleasure-boats, the hull slicing through the water with surprising speed. Sailing yachts and motor cruisers line this side of the harbour wall, some with proud owners waxing decks or touching up paintwork.To the far side, fishing boats bob in their moorings beside stacks of nets, coiled ropes, hydrants and h
MICHAEL"Think he'll be talkative?"James shrugs. "Who can guess with that bastard?" He casts down. "Charlotte?"She's tight, controlled, hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans. "It's okay. I'm alright."Mmmm...The guard at the counter goes through the usual rigmarole...Got to have their procedures I suppose...... sliding the daybook across the counter. He taps a cracked fingernail on the bottom row. "Name and signature there, sir. And some ID, please."I hand over my driving license. "I'll just be a moment." The guard scans the license, stapling the copy to the rest of his paperwork, passes it back then turns to James. "Now you, sir."He repeats the performance with James and Charlotte, then "And your car keys, please." I hand them over and he hangs them on a keyboard at the back of the reception area. "Thank you, sir. You can go through now."The interview room is as dismal as ever...Can't they ever give these places some fresh paint?And a couple of ext
MICHAELJames sucks air through his teeth.Klempner leans forward again, folded arms resting on the counter. "She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would. But she didn't."Charlotte, white-faced, could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. "You don't believe in softening the blow do you?"Klempner inhales. "I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the truth or do you want a fairy tale?"Charlotte whispers. "I want the truth to be a fairy tale."The aggression seems to drain from him. "And whatever led you to think life is like that?"There's a shudder running through her fingers to mine. "It can be.""Yes?" He picks at his teeth, extracting a morsel of something. "Is that why you married Eye-Candy here...?" He nods to me... "And him too?" He jerks a thumb at James.She tugs her fingers from mine again, hissing, "What turns a man into something
JAMES"You're not my father!" Pushing herself backwards against the wall, Charlotte shrieks the words at him. Close to hysterical, almost frenzied with denial, utterly distraught, she screams, struggling against Michael when he tries to hold her, tries to calm her.The guard, Hartland looks increasingly alarmed. "You want me to...?"No, it's alright. We need to deal with this."But he's already talking into his phone, satisfaction etched on his face as more guards burst in, bundling the passive Klempner out. He looks over his shoulder as they hustle him away, his expression shell-shocked.Charlotte is still fighting against Michael, refusing to be held. "Let's get her out of here," I say. "I'll get her out. You get the car keys.""We all need to sign out.""Just take her out," interrupts Hartland. "I'll clear it at the counter."As Michael heads for the reception, I have to drag Charlotte, resisting me all the way, to the car. Red-faced, wild-eyed and screaming, she fi
MICHAEL"How is she?"James props himself, both hands knuckled on the kitchen table, head bowed. "The same. Not good. I'd say she's gotten past denial, but I almost wish she'd cry... Get it out of her system. Instead, she behaves as though she's in shock."He's mourning the loss of a daughter... She's panicking over gaining a father...Both bereft......What a fucking mess."Shock is probably the right word..." I say. "... Discovering she has a psychopath for a parent. It's going to take time and support to get her past it."He rubs the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing closed for a moment. "I think," he says, "part of the problem is that not knowing much about him, she's cooked up some idealised vision of Conners in her imagination...""The perfect father who never was?""As it turns out, yes." He rubs at the back of his head. "How the hell do we deal with this?""Time may be the only thing that deals with it. We simply wait for her to come out of her funk.