James She sits by me, pushing a coffee mug my way.
âThanks.â Then I take a good look at herâ¦.
Somethingâs changedâ¦.
â¦. Sheâs happierâ¦.
Ahâ¦. Yesâ¦.
I drink my coffee and wait for her to volunteer what I thinkâ¦. what I am almost sureâ¦. is coming.
âUmâ¦.â
âAh-ha?â
âI thought I should tell you. Iâm not pregnant.â
As I thoughtâ¦.
I take her hand, kiss the fingers. âGood. Iâm glad. I know it was worrying you.â
She nods into her coffee. âI do feel better now.â
I rub my thumb over the fingers, noticing the roughness of the skin. Charlotte has âworking handsâ and Iâm conscious that it embarrasses her sometimes.
When this is all over, Iâll ask Beth to take her to a spa or beauty centre. Get her to pamper herself a bit.
Iâm less sanguine about her nails. She doesnât normally bite them, but right now, theyâre chewed to the quick.
Nerves?
Upset about her fall-out with Michaelâ¦.?
Change the subjectâ¦.
â¦. Happy futuresâ¦.
âPerhaps, one day?â I ask. âWhen this is all over?â
She looks at me blankly for a moment, then realises what I am asking her. She swallows her coffee. âIs that what you would like, Master?â
âIf I were sure that it is what you want, yes, I would like that.â
She has a far-away look, her breathing slow. âYesâ¦. one day.â She sips. âOne dayâ¦.â
âWhen youâre ready.â
Familyâ¦.
âHad you considered what you would like?â I ask.
She blinks. âUm, no, Iâd er, not given it any thought.â She considers the inside of her mug. âSomething for everyone I suppose.â She flashes a smile. âOne girl. One boy. One blond. One dark. How does that sound?â
âSounds perfect to meâ¦. when youâre ready. And when you are readyâ¦.â I take her hand and kiss her fingers again⦠âIâll do my best to make sure thatâs what you get.â
Her eyes rise to mine, and for the first time in some while, I see real joy there.
The door clicks open. âJames, I was justâ¦.â Michael stops. âOh, sorry. Didnât realise you were here, Charlotte.â
And the two wonât meet each otherâs eyes.
Michael backs out. âIâll catch you later James.â And the door snicks shut behind him.
I could happily punch something.
One minute sheâs talking about starting a family eventually, The next she wonât talk to himâ¦
How can two people who love each other so much, not be able to make it up after a quarrel?
I want to tear my hair out in frustration.
What the fuck do I do about this?
*****
Klempner Bech treads water, conscious of dangerous currents.
âSo, I set you to finding what you could about the Haswell woman. What do you have for me?â
Klempnerâs captain smiles, knowing he is on safer ground. âItâs very interesting, sir. In fact, her path almost crossed with ours on a previous occasion.â
Klempner raises brows. âReally? How so?â
âAbout two years ago, I was offered a woman for sale, via convoluted channels, by a man called Mack Kane. I didnât make the connection at first because she was, at that time, unmarried. However, after sifting through the files, both ours and the official records, it turns out that woman was Elizabeth Kimberley, now known as Elizabeth Haswell.â
Klempner tugs at his chin with thumb and forefinger. âDo I understand you correctly? We were offered the Haswell woman for sale?â
âThat is correct, sir.â
âSo, why didnât we get her?â
âKane fumbled the transfer. He ended up dead and his associates were convicted on various charges.
All are serving long sentences. It was shortly after that that Haswell married her.â
âQuite the coincidence.â
âNot such a coincidence. Given that Haswell has the kinds of enemies who bear grudges of that sort, and given that you, umâ¦. cleared your competitionâ¦. from the City, she was almost certain to be offered to us. Kane didnât want her ending up anywhere local where she might start blabbing. He wanted her a continent or two distant.â
Klempner absorbs that but sees no reason to disagree. âAnything else yet? Where she came from in the first place?â
âIâm working on that. The name Elizabeth Kimberley is not so uncommon, and I am trying to find which is our Elizabeth Kimberley. However,â Bech stumbles over his wordsâ¦.
âHowever?â
âHowever, I am restrained for time right nowâ¦. For the research. Extensive calls are being made on my time afterâ¦.â
âAfter the police response to the fucking mess you made?â
âYes sir.â
*****
James Iâm at my witsâ end with Charlotte and Michael. They donât talk, wonât meet. If they see each other, both turn away, finding some excuse to be somewhere else, anywhere else.
She hurt himâ¦.
He hurt herâ¦.
Everything Iâve worked for these last eighteen months, building this relationship, our Triad, I can see it spiralling awayâ¦.
Michael has shadows under his eyes. I see his gaze follow her, then slide away as she turns to look at him. When his back is turned she watches him, her soul naked on her face.
At night, I share the bed with Charlotte, arms tightly around my mermaid, but Michael doesnât join us.
He doesnât sleep in another bedroom, but instead simply stays where he lies, on the couch, not coming to bed. During the day, he disappears for long periods, hours at a time. Iâm not sure where he goes, and he wonât tell me what heâs doingâ¦.
Just some excuse to stay away from her?
I try to corner him. âThis canât go on. You canât make up with each other if you donât actually meet. All thatâs happening is that the damage is festering.â
His eyes are turbulent. âChrist, James. I donât know what to do. I want to make it up with her, but she doesnât want to talk to me.â
âIâm sure she does, but you canât talk if youâre not in the same room.â
And all I get is silence and hangdog looks.
I try to address the problem from the other end.
âCharlotte, are you joining us for a meal?â
She responds lethargically, and with that habit of hers I recognise as stress. Winding her hair around a finger, she says, ââUsâ? You mean you and Michael?â
âOf course, me and Michael. Who else?â
âI thought you might mean Beth and Richard would be there.â
âIâve not asked them, but I can if you like?â
But her gaze slides away from me. âNo, itâs alright. Iâll work on some of my college stuff. Iâll have a sandwich later.â
I could pound my fistsâ¦.
As if that would do any goodâ¦.
âWouldnât you like to spend some time with Michael? Heâs missing you.â
She screws up her face and her words are tight, articulated. âNo, I donât think he is.â
Ah⦠sweet Jesusâ¦. What the fuck does it take?
*****