Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Richard

James stirs his bean and sausage concoction. It’s bubbling, smelling good. Then, heading for the larder, he returns with olive oil, eggs and garlic. Elizabeth and Charlotte sit together with Mitch, and I exchange chit-chat with Michael.

Humming to himself, James cracks a garlic bulb into its cloves, smashing each one with the flat of his knife onto a wooden board. Skin picked out, the pulp goes into his mortar. Pestle in hand, he’s just starting to grind when the front-door knocker raps.

James turns as though to make to head for the door, but I wave him back. “I’ll get it.”

At the door, Georgie waits, a wine bottle in one hand, a bunch of daffodils in the other. “Hi. I think my Dad’s expecting me?”

“He is, yes, Georgie. Everyone’s in the kitchen. Come on through.”

In the kitchen, she marches to the table, thrusting the flowers at Charlotte, her words spilling out in a rush. “I wanted to apologise to you properly. I behaved dreadfully the first time we met. I wish I hadn’t. I'm sorry.”

Charlotte gives a tentative smile. “That's okay. I think maybe I over-reacted the other day. It must have been a shock for you, meeting me that first time. Here, sit down...” She gestures to the next chair. “Why don’t we get to know each other, instead of making assumptions. Would you like some tea? Or coffee maybe?”

“Coffee, please... Oh… “Georgie raises fingers to her mouth, glancing across to James… “unless it's that dreadful stuff Dad drinks? That stuff you coat roads with.”

Charlotte laughs. “We don’t use it on the roads now. But I think Michael’s got a bucket in the woodshed for clearing the hotel drains.”

From his spot by the counter, pestle in hand, James pauses from grinding garlic. “I'll make a fresh pot.”

“It’s alright, James…” I say. “I’ll do it. If you make it, we’ll just have another supply for Michael to asphalt the shed roof.”

*****

James

clutches her coffee in cupped palms, her body rigid. Her eyes slide to the

a cover, but hovers close as Georgie stoops over the cot,

Charlotte doesn’t comment, but I

My two daughters…

for the first

up. “She looks

you,” I say. “But there’s a touch of red in her

coffee mug in her hands again, looking across the table. “So, you’re Michael? Is that right?” Her words are bright, and she smiles as she speaks. “You own the

he going to handle

my ‘family arrangements’ with Charlotte and Michael. I’ll have to do it

Sailing foreign waters here…

politeness. “That’s right. Along with Charlotte here, of

glance.

falters then softens

few

and Charlotte live here.

again. “Something like that,

is it bothering

you for letting me use one of

eyes flick to mine, eyelids drooping in the smallest of messages… Don’t worry… and his easy

pan lid rattles. “’Scuse me,”

fabada is coming along nicely, the surface blup-blupping, but it needs longer for the beans to soften. I give it a quick stir, then reach for a

jostling with annoyance in her voice. “Doesn't it

What’s she talking about?

at the potatoes with my knifepoint, I watch over

“Does what