Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Richard

I click off the video connection and almost immediately, there’s a tap at my door.

James?

Waiting for me to finish?

“May I come in?”

Yes… James…

He looks terrible…

“I wanted to apologise.”

I gather the sheaf of papers I was working with, injecting a business-like tone into my voice. “There’s nothing to apologise for my friend.”

Sounding unconvinced, “No?”

“No. We all have low points in our lives and I’d say you had one of those yesterday.” I regard the man standing in my doorway…

Face sallow…

Pupils like pin-holes…

Eyes like piss-holes in snow…

“How’s the hangover?”

“About what I deserve… Thank you for looking after Charlotte last night.”

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way, James.”

He stands, head lowered, seeming lost for words. This isn’t the James I know.

You’re not right yet, are you… Not by a long way…

I stand, walk across to him and am about to slap him on the shoulder….

Hangover…

Splitting headache…

Nausea…

… and settle for laying my hand on his shoulder. “James, I mean it. We all have times in our lives when our friends and family are what keep us going. If the positions were reversed, I’d like to think you and Michael would have done the same for Elizabeth. And she’s a lot more vulnerable than Charlotte ever will be.”

“Of course we would.”

we

*****

- Twenty-Six Years

medallion he seems convinced looks good. “Larry, great to see you.” He flashes his usual fake smile, the single gold tooth winking. “So, what

you bring them through

the

variety of half-cast by the look of her; honey-skinned with hair that drapes her shoulders in glossy black ringlets, and amber-gold eyes that dart one way, then another between Finchby, myself and Bech. The cuffs around her ankles drag at her feet, but otherwise,

looks,” comments Finchby. “Quite exotic.

the last shipment from

“Does she speak English?”

the toe of a boot.

clasps her hands together, holding them out to him, then to me, babbling something or other. The words are nonsense,

boy, maybe ten years old, standing to one side. “You. Translate. Tell her to

Then he jabbers something to the girl, his breath coming in quick, short gulps as he gabbles the words. She whimpers, clutching at the front of her shirt. It’s sweat-stained, stinking and in shreds, but she grips the cloth

tell her?”

“Yes, Boss.”

if you don’t want to go the same way she’s going, do your fucking

skin is

European?

Dutch maybe…?

been granted special privileges…” comments Bech… “… because he has a knack for languages. However, he’s not going to keep those

he head-points. “Mr Finchby here has already told me he has a couple of customers who would enjoy some time with you. So, if you don’t earn your keep here, you can easily be moved along. Now, tell this little slut to get her clothes off or we’ll do it for her.”

a match on the wall, then lights up. “My

girl. She protests something-or-other, but he gestures to Bech and Finchby. Her eyes

to sobs as she strips. She hesitates over what passes for her underwear, but

says something to her and weeping silently, she removes the last, then stands

a try on that one myself

her, Bech. I’ve them

not seen it before. Bech enjoys his little games and, for the most

does

something about

Is it her?

Or is it…?

that come this way

“I thought he’d be here by now.”

is a stranger to me. Bech turns, addressing me, “Sir, Mr Yakovlevski here

to the girl, talking quickly

looks to Finchby… “… she goes to the

out his cigarette. “What’s this, Bech? Nothing was said to me about an auction. What’s in

get the best

I don’t know he gives you a cut

sour and Finchby cracks a laugh, slapping him on the shoulder. “C’mon, give us a smile. I know how it works. A man’s gotta earn a living. Those swimming pools in the Bahamas don’t pay for themselves, do they?. And we’ve

Yakovlevski. “And to open