Chapter 73: Chapter 73

Thirty-One Years Ago She's tall and slim, although still filling out, and she's beautiful, in the way of young girls. Not sophisticated. Not worldly. But beautiful.

Her features are still half-formed. Not those of a child, but without the definition of a mature woman.

Her face is still a little round. Cheek-bones which will one day be high have yet to fulfil their promise.

The freckles on her cheeks may one day vanish, but now they sit scattered over pale skin.

But the eyes….

Sea-green….

Jade-green….

In sun or shadow, their shade changes; depthless emeralds, flecked by spring leaves or grass, rimmed with a dark circle and framed by lashes which oddly, are much darker than her hair.

Once orange-red, her long tresses have matured to a burnished copper-gold with the sun glinting in the highlights, and lowlights of deep bronze.

Shelley stands, gazing at her brother's frames, running her fingers over the glass which protects its bejewelled occupants….

Captives?

Prisoners?

A tomb….

She reads the labels: Hesperiidae…. Lycaenidae…. Riodinidae….

Gossamer wings, some in metallic blues and golds, other copper or burnished orange, some almost transparent, others in a green which rivals the glorious eyes of the watcher. All rest there, neatly pinned, displayed, categorised and named.

“Don't touch the frames, Shelley. You'll get fingerprints on the glass, then I'll have to clean them again.”

She snatches her fingers away. “Sorry, Stevie.” And she scurries out.

“Stephen, for God's sake, give her some air will you.” David looks exasperated.

“What's your problem? I just asked her not to make a mess of my exhibits. What's wrong with that?”

*****

“Stephen, have you seen Shelley?”

“Probably doing her homework. She has a test in her math class tomorrow.”

“No, I looked in her room. She’s not there.”

“I’ll give that little madam what for. If she’s around the back of the school again with that boy she’s been making cows eyes at….”

“No, I went to the school to see if she was there. I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Where the hell is she, then?” A red tide flushes up his neck.

“Stephen, there’s something else I can’t find.”

“What?”

“My wallet.”

“How much was in there?”

“Quite a bit. I was going to pay the rent tomorrow and the bill at the garage.”

Stephen gapes at his brother then in a dozen long strides he reaches the hall cupboard, grabbing for his jacket hanging there. He rummages for the inside pocket, then the outside pockets before, white-

lipped, saying, “Mine’s gone too.”

*****

Charlotte My 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…. “Charlotte, my wallet.” He points over at his jacket.

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 strong nose and features, she looks a lot like….

“Charlotte….” My Master plucks the wallet from my fingers. There’s an edge to his voice.

Is he angry with me…?

“Who is she, Master?”

He doesn’t meet my eye. “My daughter, Georgie.”

“Your daughter? And…. What? You didn’t want me to see her? Why not?”

He looks at me sidelong. “I thought it might upset you.”

“Why would it upset me? You never made any secret of it that you were married before….” He’s still looking away from me. “Master, why would you think it might upset me? Seeing that you once had another family?”

His Adam's apple bobs. “That’s partly it, I suppose. But, Charlotte, Georgie is older than you are.

When….” He runs fingers through his hair…. “When I first talked to Michael about you, about your auction, he laid into me about…. about pursuing…. a girl your age.”

I touch my hand to his, “But that’s all behind us, isn’t it? We’re together, the three of us. It doesn’t matter to me that….” I swallow my words. “I mean, I don’t mind about….”

I’m making a complete hash of what I want to say. “Master, you don’t have to hide Georgie in your wallet on my account. Put the photo on your desk, or up on the wall if it’s important to you.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind? It wouldn’t upset you?”

“No, not at all. If it matters to you, and I think it does, have Georgie where you can see her.”

His face is soft as he kisses me. “Thank you, Charlotte.”