Twenty-Six Years Ago âHi, Mitch.â Itâs Frank, his solid frame leaning back against the bar. âHowâre you doing?â
âHi, Frank,â she smiles then pulls a face. âI can't hang around I'm afraid. I only popped in to pick up a couple of things.â
Angelo pops up from behind the bar, holding up a carrier bag; gold and green with an expensive designer logo. âThis the one?â
âThatâs right. Iâll take that one with me. Can you let me see the others too.â Angelo passes Mitchâs collection of bags across the bar and she squats on her haunches to sort through them.
âGoing away for Christmas?â asks Frank. âVisiting family, I suppose?â
âYes and No. Yes, Iâm going away, but not to visit family.â She smiles brightly up at him. âLarry's taking me away somewhere.â
âOh!â Hands in pockets, Frank rocks on his heels. âLarry? He didn't mention anything to me.â
âIt all happened quite suddenly last night. He's picking me up this afternoon.â
âWhere are you going?â
âNo idea. He says itâs a surprise.â
Frank rubs at a temple, then paints on a smile. âWell, good luck, Mitch. Have a great Christmas. You're landing on your feet there.â
Mitch, holding up a silk blouse for inspection, pauses, looks at him. âHow do you mean?â
âWell, heâs rich, isnât he. And⦠I mean, I know Larryâs a bit of a cold fish sometimes, but his heart's in the right place.â
She swings her head slowly, brow creasing.
âYou knowâ¦â says Frank. â⦠with the kind of money he's spending on that Blessingmoors shelter.â
Her eyes widen. âBlessingmoors? That place they were talking about in the papers? It's Larry doing that?â
âSure. Itâs him. I mean, philanthropist or what?â He jolts back at her expression. âWhoopsâ¦. Let the cat out of the bag, have I?â
Mitch blinks hard. âHe never told me anything like that. He just said he's a travelling businessman.â
Frank purses his mouth. âLikes to keep his life under a bushel, doesnât he. As for the travelling⦠I think he might be thinking of doing less of it. He's had me showing him apartments in the City recently, as though heâs thinking of settling.â
Mitch just stares at him. He kisses her cheek. âHave a great Christmas, Mitch. Donât forget to come back, eh?â
âUm, yes.â She checks her watch. âIâve got to go.â Mitch gathers up her collection of bags and, with a wave back, leaves.
Frank slumps forward on the bar, leaning on his elbows.
Angelo wipes the counter. âYou okay?â
âYeah... Noâ¦. No, not really.â He swipes a hand back through his hair. âFeeling pissed if Iâm honest.â
Angelo takes a bottle of malt from the top shelves, holding it up with a questioning glance.
âYes, I will I think.â
The barman pours a measure, making it a generous one. âWhy don't you make a play for her yourself?â
âHow do I compete with that? I mean, you can't blame her, can you? It's the chance of a lifetime for a girl like her.â
With twenty years behind him in his work, Angelo knows better than to answer such a question.
*****
Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago After a morning of making arrangements, greasing of palms and more fun that I can ever remember having, I throw clothes into a case.
Passportâ¦
Ticketâ¦.
Credit and debit cardsâ¦
Currencyâ¦.
Anything else?
Sheâs nervousâ¦.
How�
At the last moment, I unzip the case and pack one more item: pyjamas.
When I return to her apartment, mid-afternoon, Mitch is waiting. As I enter, her face lights up. âI wasnât sure you were serious.â
A small suitcase sits by the door and the smile of a small child in the candy shop sits on her face.
âSo now you know. Iâm serious. Ready?â
âAbso-lutely.â
I nod her out. âTaxiâs waiting.â