"I don't want to go," wails the little girl. "I want to stay with Daddy." She rubs at her eyes. "Why do I have to go?""Because you're coming with Mommy, Sweetie. We're going to stay with Aunty Alice.""But why do we have to go?"*****"Here you are, Shelley, you can sleep in here."The woman turns on the lights to what was a spare room. A bed has been made up and there is some attempt to make the room into a welcoming place for a little girl, with comic books and borrowed toys on a table. Some second-hand child-sized furniture, the bright plastic worn to grey at the edges, is set out on a brightly coloured rug. "Mummy will be sleeping just next door, and....""I want my room," weeps the little girl. "I want Daddy. I want my friends.""You'll make new friends really quickly. You'll see." Aunty Alice squats down, bringing her face level with Shelley's. "We'll take you to your new school tomorrow. Abigail from next door's coming with us. She's so excited about meeting you.
MICHAELAn hour later, we've made good progress. My brother is a strapping figure, and between us we have made short work of the mess of brambles, thorns and aggressive undergrowth."Time for a break," I say, mopping at my forehead.Something delicious wafts by, and my nose turns the rest of me bodily around to follow the source."I thought you gentlemen might enjoy a break from all that." It's Sally, carrying two trays of something enormous. She passes one to me with a smile; the other to Ben, giving him a cool look as she does so. Sausage, bacon and eggs all in a bread bun big enough to play frisbee with. And two beer cans dripping condensation.I love a woman who understands men...."Ah, Sal. That's perfect. Thanks.""Anytime, Michael. I'll send someone out for the plates in a while."The gargantuan sandwich clutched in both hands, I take a huge bite, hastily wiping at my mouth as a yolk bursts, back-splashing me with yellow gunge.It's delicious and just what I'm
JAMESCarrying a tray with tea all round, I find Michael and Ben in the back 'garden'. A great swathe has been cut through the tangle of briars. Both are hot and sweaty.Ben scowls as he sees me, but Michael brightens, taking a mug from the tray. "Ah great, thanks, James."Ben nods, barely polite, but takes a mug anyway.I glance up at the sun, beginning to beat through the last traces of the morning mist. "Perhaps I should have brought something cold.""Nah...." Michael waves a beer can at me. "Just had one. Not a good idea to have another while we're still waving machetes and axes around.""Have you seen Charlotte?"Michael nods back to the house. "In her room, I expect. She said something about revision for her exams."So, I go in search of my mermaid.Not in her study....She should be working. Exams next week....Where is she?She's nowhere in the house, so I wander back outside, bypassing Michael and his sour-faced brother.I don't see her at first, but
CHARLOTTENaked from the waist, I lie there, curving my arms over my head, displaying myself in the way I know he likes. For long seconds he sits, simply looking at me, his lean features gentle, the breeze ruffling his dark hair a little."I want to see all of you." His fingers tug at my buckle, easing leather from steel. The zipper rasps down, then double-handedly, he tugs at my jeans, hooking fingers into my panties as he does so, taking them too. Arching up on bare soles, I lift my hips and my clothes pull away, leaving me naked for my Master.Again, I stretch, presenting myself, pulling my waist taut. Lifting my hips and one knee a shade, I ease a thigh just a little open. Not wide, but enough to suggest........ To invite....He sits upright beside me, blinking slowly as he looks down the length of my body. One hand strokes me; from my stomach, curving over waist and breast to where the nipple nubs in the slight coolth of the breeze. With thumb and forefinger, he picks
The phone rings and Al stares at it listlessly. It could be the most uninteresting thing in the world.Relentlessly, it rings, the sound echoing from the walls of the shabby apartment.Taking a long breath, he stands, moving to the phone. He moves slowly, the clothes hanging from him."Al?""Eve?" He comes alive. "Eve? Oh, thank God. At last...."Her voice is flat. "Al, I've not called to have a conversation with you. I've called about Shelley. This isn't working. I can't cope with it anymore. She misses you and the boys and her friends too much. She wants to come back to you....""Of course she can come back. Eve.... Are you going to....?""No.... Will you take her?"*****"We'll make it work, Dad. Don't worry." David claps his father on the shoulder, looking nervous but determined. "Stephen and I both want her here. We'll do everything we can to help...." He turns to his brother. ".... Won't we?"Stephen nods decisively, a solid, comforting presence. "Absolutely.
The following day, Stephen calls Shelley. "I've got a present for you. Come and see." He takes her by the hand and she toddles with him to her bedroom. "Here you are." He points to the wall. Mounted on a card and with a hand-written tag below, Shelley's butterfly sits in its frame, protected by glass, a long pin through its thorax."Like it?" he asks. "It's still just as pretty isn't it?"She nods but looks down, her lip trembling. "I'll tell you what," he says. "I know you're still upset, about well.... Mummy going, and Daddy being poorly and everything. And I know you didn't think we'd be living in a new house, but why don't we make your bedroom all pretty too? We can make it just how you like it and then it's your special place.A smile breaks through. Looking up, "That sounds nice."*****It's a big shop. And Shelly has never been in a shop like it before. A thousand enormous tins stand on shelves, in lots and lots of different colours. She didn't know there were so many
CHARLOTTEMy Master's phone rings. He pulls it from a pocket glancing at the screen and raises brows, looking surprised."Yes, James Alexanders? Oh, hello Fiona, what can I do for you?"He listens for a moment, then frowns. "I thought I'd paid all those.... What's the reference?" Flipping open his laptop, he taps at the keyboard then peers at the screen. "Ummm.... No, I don't seem to have that one. What was it for? Oh, right, yes, no problem. Can you e-mail it across. That's right, yes. No, I'll pay it now while you're on."He snaps fingers at me, pointing over at his jacket... "Charlotte, my wallet." Pulling out the wallet, I open it to take out his card, holding it up for a second for him to see."Yes, that one."Passing the card to him, I leave him reeling off a number into his phone.But what has caught my eye, is a photo, creased and clearly old, tucked into a plastic window.The face in the photo is of a woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Dark-eyed and with a
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.""