Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Michael

James rolls the razor over the line of jaw to neck, angling in the mirror to see the result.

“You’ve got it all,” I say. “Bloody nuisance for you having to shave as often as you do.”

He harrumphs, then, “Maybe I should grow a beard.” He looks himself left then right in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“It’s not my opinion you should ask.” I cock my head towards the door.

“Mmmm.” He runs a finger from chin to ear, sucking in his cheeks. “How is she?”

“Pretty hyper. I’m beginning to wish I’d not told her about the address; checked it out first myself. I could easily have found a different Christmas gift if I tried… If we get there and don’t find anything. If her mother’s moved or died…”

“Worst scenario…” says James, “No-one’s heard of her at all. No-one knows anything. Anything else is at least a step forward.”

“Yes, but that’s really why I wanted you to come along too. If it’s bad news, I can’t drive and hold her hand too…”

Charlotte bounces into the room. “I’m ready when you are.”

I look her up and down. “Have you just changed your clothes?”

“Er… yes. First, I thought I should go dressed in my best. Then I thought it might look a bit odd, wandering around a strange neighbourhood like that. So I changed into jeans, then I thought, if we find my mother, I should look nice and then…”

I step forward, tug her to me by the waist. “Charlotte, you would look ‘nice’ if you dressed in an old carpet. If we find your mother, how you’re dressed is the least of what will be happening.”

Her eyes fall. “If…”

“Yes, it’s still ‘if’. The address was old. Even the police file made it clear that they didn’t know what had happened or where she might have gone from there.”

“I know.” Her words are tight, constricted. “But I’m just hoping that…”

I tilt up her chin. “I know what you’re hoping, but with the best will in the world, this is almost certainly just a fact-finding mission. I did a lot of searching through old files just to get as far as I did.”

She nods against the pressure of my finger then, “Michael?”

“Mmmm?”

“Whatever happens, whatever we find, thank you.”

I press my lips to hers. “My pleasure.”

*****

“My car?”

“If that’s alright with you.” James pats his thigh. “Given the distance, it would be easier if you were driving.”

“Fine.” I turn to check Charlotte’s not in earshot. “The pair of you sit in the back seat. I don’t need a navigator and I’d rather her be close by you.”

They sit together, he with an arm wrapped around her while she just stares out of the window. Occasionally our eyes meet in the mirror.

*****

“This is it?” Charlotte stands, staring around, looking lost.

To one side; a car park, huge, able to take hundreds, perhaps thousands of cars. To the other; a hypermarket, DIY and white goods stores, acres of sheet glass displaying computers, TVs, household goods, clothes…

The acreage is vast. The retail park perhaps ten years old. No trace remains of what it replaced.

James stands beside her, a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” I say. “But we won’t give up. We’ll keep looking.”

She nods, her face screwing up with suppressed tears, then she gets back in the car.

*****

and I seat ourselves on a couple of old tree-stumps.

Order…?

agreement, that Ben not be permitted to visit our home any more after charging in and ruining Charlotte’s birthday, since he chose to apologise, I’ve stretched a point by letting him back while James and Charlotte are

need the

brambles awaits the bonfire, vibrating in the slight breeze. So early in the year, the light wind bites at ears and

noses go red and

how to turn out the right meal for the weather.

it is. Sally

down to a few inches clear of the ground. His patchwork of a mongrel

need demolishing. Some I want to fix up. Now I can get at them without needing a machete every time, we can give them

collection of dilapidated sheds, shacks and ramshackle stables by eye. “Any thoughts on what

on a farm when she was younger. I know she was happy there. I thought she

then twists to look up. “Stonework’s sound, but the

me of that old place at McAlister’s. You know, where we use

apples

we. Hey… you remember that day when he spotted us and he was

could I forget it? It was me he threw the

you home covered in

why it was you that got the seat of your pants

taken you out and I was supposed to bring you back in one

Cold air gusts over me and I down another mouthful of soup. “Wonder what that place

few months ago. Even the house is falling apart. The old man

place. Convert the outbuilding to

of the family. So it’s just standing there,

Shame…

you go

down more soup. I do likewise. Then,

What’s going on?

as Scruffy’s earth-moving changes direction and a shower of mud,

good progress. His head down, ass up, his stub of a tail wags furiously as earth scatters behind him. “What d’you reckon

maybe. Could easily

Mmmm….

a dog or two

up, nose wiffling at the breeze. He trots over, sits by me and

*sigh*

up then moves to Ben, pointing snout, and the mole-hill now attached to the top, at Ben’s mug. He turns soft eyes on his junk-heap mutt, squatting down to offer his mug, with its

with my bother. Nothing

Family…

It means a lot. She’s… she’s going

hang on

“She's my wife, Ben.”

Change the subject…

it going

for...” Despite the words, his tone is gloomy. “… at least I thought so.” And there’s an edge to his

Now what…?

don't push it too far, too

his empty mug. “I won't, and

Here it comes…

bit boring. Needy. Always wants to ask me what

another failed ‘Ben

the feeling you wanted the kind of girl who’d put you in charge?”

what I thought too,

you find the kind of woman you thought you wanted,

mug revolves between

Am I being dense?

Missing the sub-text…?

“So, what’s going wrong?”

... this time...

tightens, lips pressed