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

Order…?

ruining Charlotte’s birthday, since he chose to apologise, I’ve stretched a point by

need the

bonfire, vibrating in the slight breeze. So early in the

do noses go red and

As ever, the soup is excellent. My chef really knows how to turn out the right meal for the weather. Ben sniffs at steam fragrant

it is. Sally knows

clear of

But the old out-buildings on the far side…” I wave across the stubbled earth… “… Some need demolishing. Some I want to fix

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

she was happy there. I thought she

top half of a stable-door hanging by a single hinge, then twists to look up. “Stonework’s sound, but the roof timbers have had it. And the shingles.” He digs a thumbnail into the door-frame. “Woodworm have had most of

that

apples

that

could I forget it? It was me he threw the

Mom why I’d brought you home covered in white-wash.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Jeez, but the whupping

sure why it was you that got

I’d taken you out and I was supposed to bring you back in

the apples,” I chuckle. Cold air gusts over me and I

day a few months ago. Even the house is falling apart. The

Like this place. Convert the outbuilding to

can’t be sold out of the family. So it’s

Shame…

did you

walk Scruffy.” He sucks down more soup. I do likewise. Then, “And… I just wanted to

What’s going on?

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

head down, ass up, his stub of a tail wags furiously as earth scatters behind

maybe. Could easily be a burrow coming out from

Mmmm….

should have a dog or two

head suddenly pops up, nose wiffling at the breeze. He trots over, sits by

*sigh*

it 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 last inch of soup in the bottom. Scruffy, snout

my bother. Nothing really

Family…

you for apologising to Charlotte and James. It means a lot. She’s… she’s going through a tough time right now. I appreciate

answering smile crooked, turning sour. “How else was I going to hang on

“She's my wife, Ben.”

Change the subject…

going with

looked for...” Despite the words, his tone is gloomy.

Now what…?

it too far, too

cradles his empty mug. “I won't, and I'm

Here it comes…

wants to ask me what

failed ‘Ben

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

what I thought

of woman you thought you wanted, suddenly you

reply. The mug revolves

Am I being dense?

Missing the sub-text…?

“So, what’s going wrong?”

... this time...

face tightens,

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