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.

*****

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

Order…?

not be permitted to visit our home any more after charging in and ruining Charlotte’s birthday, since he chose to

I need the

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

go red and

knows how to turn out the right meal for the weather. Ben sniffs at steam fragrant with sage, thyme and who-knows-what-else, gulps down a mouthful and

Sally knows her

clear of the ground. His patchwork of a mongrel terrier, Scruffy, digs with industrial-grade ferocity

stubbled earth… “… Some need demolishing. Some I want

idea.” He stands, wandering over, measuring the collection of dilapidated sheds, shacks and ramshackle stables by eye. “Any thoughts on what you’ll be doing

she was younger. I know she was happy there. I

remains of the top half of a stable-door hanging by a single hinge, then twists to look up. “Stonework’s

stands back again, casting around at the hotchpotch of buildings. “It reminds me of that old place at McAlister’s. You know, where we use to play when we were

wait to rob apples

Hey… you remember that day when

could I forget it? It was me he threw

I’d brought you home

was you that got the

older one. I’d taken you out and I was supposed to bring you back

didn’t even get any of the apples,” I chuckle. Cold air gusts over me and I

is falling apart. The old man died. The kids had moved on and none of them wanted to take it on being the size it

hotel maybe? Like this place. Convert the outbuilding to holiday chalets

left it in the will that it can’t be sold out of the family. So

Shame…

did you

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

What’s going on?

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

down, ass up, his stub of a tail

easily be a burrow coming

Mmmm….

we should have a dog or two

suddenly pops up, nose wiffling at the breeze. He

*sigh*

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

good, just sharing time with my bother.

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 what

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

“She's my wife, Ben.”

Change the subject…

it going

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

Now what…?

don't push it too far, too

“I won't, and I'm not

Here it comes…

boring. Needy. Always wants to ask me what she

another failed ‘Ben

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

I thought

you find the kind of woman you thought

reply. The mug revolves between

Am I being dense?

Missing the sub-text…?

“So, what’s going wrong?”

... this time...

tightens,

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