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…

you had

rises to me, you smile…

ever think to see

“May I come in?”

“Of course you can.”

the layers of blankets and then, in a cheek-scalding moment, I

Oh, God…

She’s feeding her…

don’t know where to look. “My apologies.

Even seeing Jenny giving birth to the baby in her arms

Breast-feeding?

Too personal…

around the neck, I spin, trying to

Anywhere else…

my eyes to

multicoloured herd accompanied by a kind

the other, trying to get perspective on

It moves…

see someone let your mother

recognise it?

still using that trick I see.

almost the loveliest smile I’ve

with the mermaid. “It was a butterfly the

know how she

cave paintings; how they were intended to be seen by firelight, to give the illusion

mouth opens a little. “Will you tell me more

“Like what?”

Mom. How you met. How you got

me. “You’re sure you want to

“I think so, yes.”

say. Small talk has never been my strong suit, and now, here; in this

the room. She watches

I wish I could change what’s past. I

me. “You can’t change the past. What’s happened, has happened. But you can change the future…” She tilts

what to say. Inside I’m tight, cold, but heat rises up my chest

Long seconds pass.

as the rocker moves slightly, to and fro. Absently, I notice that the chair

a step or two towards me, the baby still in

me jolts.

hold her. She’s your granddaughter. Don’t

the heat in my

offering me the cooing, gurgling blanket-wrapped

I turn to see James, Michael and Mitch,

James. He raises brows, lips

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

she steps closer, offering her

My granddaughter…

red and wrinkled, as though protesting the indignity of the world. The features are soft and unformed. A drop of milk dribbles from her

do I

What’s expected?

extend a

smaller than the end of my

Such tiny fingernails.

presses her to me. “You want to. I

I’ve never done

fuck’s sake

I cradle her

slipping it under the head. “Her

Then she steps away.

quite focussed on me. A wisp of hair spirals

Dark-haired like her father?

there a touch of red

What to say?

“Hello, Cara.”

says, “It’s

Crap…

times can I fucking

get

“It’s not? I thought…”

in his voice. And confusion. “I thought it was decided?

Even James is frowning.

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