Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Chapter 15

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.”

see then... Shall we join the others

*****

 

- 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,

bring

the

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,

“Quite

was on the last shipment from Ghana,”

“Does she speak English?”

the toe of

him, then to me, babbling something or other. The words are nonsense, but

a boy, maybe ten years old, standing to one side. “You. Translate. Tell her to get her clothes off. Mr Finchby wants

words. She whimpers, clutching at

tell

“Yes, Boss.”

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

Sorry, Boss.” His skin is glossy, fair hair plastered to his

European?

Dutch maybe…?

has a knack for languages. However, he’s not going to keep those privileges long if

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.” He turns, his voice conversational. “You

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

something-or-other, but he gestures to Bech and Finchby. Her eyes well, then fall as she unbuttons her shirt. Bech stands back, arms folded. Finchby

She hesitates over what passes for her underwear, but

removes the last, then stands head lowered, trembling,

try

I take her,” says Finchby, “you’ll keep your fucking paws off her, Bech. I’ve them that’ll pay

and, for the most part, I’m happy enough

does it

about this

Is it her?

Or is it…?

different. Plenty that come this way are

glances at his watch. “I thought he’d be here by

Bech turns, addressing me, “Sir, Mr Yakovlevski here has spotted a niche and is moving into the

boy is speaking to the girl, talking quickly and quietly.

looks to Finchby… “… she goes

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

best price

Bech. D’you think I don’t know he gives you a cut for

I know how it works. A man’s gotta earn a living. Those swimming pools

kneel,” says Yakovlevski.

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