Michael kisses her forehead. “No hurry, Babe. Not until you’re ready. And that's not yet.”

James, forehead puckered, brandishes the CD. “Scheherazade? Will someone please tell me what the hell that’s all about? You used the word as some kind of code when Baxter and Finchby had you prisoner.”

Charlotte flushes, looking up at her father.

But Klempner’s voice is soft with regret. “It didn’t take much to work out who the Wicked King was. But I’ll admit, I’d like to know too what the story is behind it.”

Charlotte’s mouth works. She starts to speak, then grinds to a halt. “Michael, you tell them.”

And now he flushes. “It’s kind of embarrassing, Babe.”

“Is it?” Her gaze turns cloudy. “Alright…” She shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“No, it isn’t,” says James. “I want to know.”

Michael turns his face away, but I see him swear silently to himself. Then, “Alright, it’s like this. When James and I first got to know Charlotte…” He stops, rubbing fingers at his forehead, then starts again… “Charlotte fell for James first. I… I didn’t handle that well. I was jealous…” He nods to James. “You remember? That New Year’s Eve?”

James’ voice is dry. “How could I forget? I thought you were going to punch my lights out.”

Charlotte’s jaw drops. “You’ve never told me any of this. Either of you.”

Michael stares up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t one of my greater moments. Anyway, when we were alone, I asked Charlotte to tell me something personal. Something that no-one else knew. That would be just mine. She told me…” He hesitates, looking between Charlotte and her father…

“It’s alright,” she says. “You can say it.”

He takes in air, then, “Charlotte told me that when she was a little girl, she read the stories of the Thousand and One Nights. She fantasised about being Scheherazade, who told the tales. About being in the power of the wicked king...”

Klempner’s face drops…

“… And about being brave enough and clever enough to escape and be free. At the time I didn’t know what to make of it. It was only much later that I came to understand…” His words die away and he grinds to a halt.

to say you can hear a pin drop,

Klempner speaks first. “Jenny…”

for something personal. That’s about as personal as it gets. But…” He looks between man and daughter. “… can we all

turns to Michael. “You

Scarlet-faced, he nods.

“You never told me.”

shrugs, seeming lost for

“But I married you.”

from her seat into his arms. “That came some time later.” He plants a kiss on her

to kiss. “You were jealous. Awww… that’s so sweet.” Then she

didn’t. Now, can we agree, whatever is in the past, it is behind us? I made mistakes too. We have all

Michael’s gaze, eye-pointing Klempner. Michael nods, presses his lips to Charlotte’s, then turns her

steel in his voice.

sucking her lips, nods. Taking

a heartbeat… two… three…

Charlotte and kisses the top of her head. “Happy

free and jabs a finger at his chest. “But you have to wear the sweater today.” She turns to James, then

planning on wearing my best suit for

almost gabbles. “And I was going to wear that new shirt and pants.

her head. “Mom went to all that trouble to knit them. They’re

over Klempner’s

“Well… For

*****

any more assistance from me, instead pouring me an egg-nog, and another for Ryan,

us. Michael, Beth and Richard are playing a board game.

in her arms. Eyes closed, the baby sucks contently at

by

my eye to the bottle. “It's Jenny’s milk, expressed. I told her early she'll

dice to

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