After clearing up the breakfast dishes, I go looking for Klempner. I find him outside, on the terrace. The fog is clearing and leaning with both hands on the wall, he stares out over the valley, watching wreaths of silver mist twine over the lake.

I take a place beside him. “You okay?”

He turns. “Yes,” he smiles, “I'm extraordinarily okay.”

He looks away, then looks back, meeting my eye. “But we both know I fit in there like a giraffe in a wet suit. However, my thanks for the invitation. I appreciate it. I really do...” He picks at a bit of lichen growing on the stonework.

“But you're not ready to settle down with the carpet slippers and the chocolate Labrador by the hearth?”

“No. And as you said, there are things I need to do, dealing with Baxter being the priority.” He blows air. “Do you think Mitch will handle that? For some fairly obvious reasons, I can't stay here long. But even if I could stay, it wouldn’t work. Not long term.”

“I think you should ask her yourself…”

“But…”

“… But… I suspect that for both of you, simply knowing that the other is there will count for a lot. And besides, if you're careful, you can visit from time to time. See your daughter, your grand-daughter.”

He looks at his feet, scuffing at the ground. “I suppose.”

“Does it occur to you that for Mitch, a… um… part-time relationship, might appeal?”

His forehead furrows. “Run that by me again.”

“Mitch has had men controlling her all her life. Or trying to. She’s enjoying her freedom, especially now she’s earning money… Real money… in her own right. Living a life of her own but having a partner… you… there occasionally might just work, for both of you. The two of you would simply spend quality time together.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Would that work?”

“It might. It wouldn’t be for everyone. But for Mitch… And for you… Who knows? Wouldn’t it be worth a try?”

His head sways, slowly, up and down. “Do you think Jenny will want to see me?”

“I think so, yes. It might be a bit of a rocky road for a while, but it will be good for her.”

“And you? Will I be welcome here?”

“For me, yes, you’ll be welcome. But for now, will you stay for Christmas? I’m sure Mitch would like that.”

“Yes…” He scuffs at the ground. “I think I will. In any case, there are things I need to do here too.”

“And after that? Back to Thailand?”

He flashes me a startled glance, then his smile twists into humour. “Um... Nooo… Not Thailand. It's not a very healthy environment for me just now. No, it’s South America for me next.”

“Will you keep me informed on that? Anything you learn.”

“Of course. I’ll set something up so we can stay in contact this time… without you having to rig up my old wiretap again.”

*****

Klempner

At the door, standing ajar, I hesitate, my stomach suddenly dropping away.

Have I done enough?

With muscles oddly reluctant to move, I tap on the door, very quietly.

“It’s open.”

I push, and too slowly, the door swings wider.

Jenny’s sitting in a rocking chair by the window. Her hair, so like her mother’s spills over a thick shawl pulled around her shoulders. A warm blanket covers her lap. And her face, while pale, has lost that sheen she had when Michael and I found her.

And held in her arms, wrapped in layers of knitted woollens…

Cara…

Your daughter.

My granddaughter.

I want to say something. Something appropriate, but I’m not sure what it should be.

I abused you…

Mistreated you…

Took my revenge on you…

had no involvement

rises

did I ever think to

“May I come in?”

“Of course you can.”

adjusts her position, fiddles with the layers of blankets and

Oh, God…

She’s feeding her…

look. “My apologies. I didn’t

flesh isn’t exactly new to me. Even seeing Jenny giving birth to the baby

Breast-feeding?

Too personal…

spin,

Anywhere else…

for my

a multicoloured herd accompanied by a kind of rainbowed Pegasus above them. A

myself easing one way then the other, trying to get perspective on

It moves…

your mother loose with a paintbrush in

it? Her

can spot her touch, yes. She's still using that

It’s almost the loveliest smile I’ve ever seen.

shift again watching the thing nod in agreement with the mermaid. “It was a butterfly the

know how she

about cave paintings; how they were intended

little. “Will

“Like what?”

met. How you got

“You’re sure you

“I think so, yes.”

run out of things to say. Small talk has never been my strong suit, and

room. She

wish I could change what’s

past. What’s happened, has happened. But you can

I’m tight, cold, but heat rises up

Long seconds pass.

and fro. Absently, I notice that the chair also has received the ‘Mitch treatment’, painted cream, ferns twine up

takes a step or two towards me, the baby still

inside me jolts. “Hold

She’s your granddaughter. Don’t you want

the heat in my chest

there, offering me the

me and I turn to see James,

He raises brows, lips

she moves, but Michael steps forward, a hand under her arm. “Take it

steps closer, offering her baby

My granddaughter…

soft and unformed. A drop of milk dribbles from her mouth… She smells milky too, a kind

do

What’s expected?

extend a finger into the

smaller than the end of my

Such tiny fingernails.

me. “You want to.

clumsy. I’ve never done this

fuck’s sake don’t

I cradle her in my

moves close. “Like this.” She takes my hand, slipping it under the head. “Her neck muscles aren’t

Then she steps away.

and, I think not quite focussed on me. A wisp of

Dark-haired like her father?

touch of red

What to say?

“Hello, Cara.”

says, “It’s

Crap…

can I fucking

even get the

“It’s not? I thought…”

voice.

Even James is frowning.

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