*****

Ten minutes later, up to our chests in warm water and foam, I fill the flutes, passing them across.

“’Scuse me a mo,” says Charlotte, then slides under the surface. She rises again a few seconds later, snorting bubbles.

“How do you feel now?” I ask.

James tips his glass to me, smiling, but he doesn’t speak. Then, his lids drooping, he looks away.

*****

Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago

I step out, feeling bright. Everything is going perfectly.

Bech’s done well…

Nothing like a little competition to get the prices up

Another shipment like that and I can open the east wing at Blessingmoors…

So Yakovlevski wants a mix...

A couple of leggy Russian types ought to fit in well…

Back to Helsinki…

But first I want to see the apartment. Keys jingling in my pocket, I head out.

Will she like it?

But as the lock turns smoothly and the door clicks open, my doubts settle.

What's not to like?

The space is bright and airy, morning sunshine spilling through panes and onto, as I requested, new flooring and walls painted in cool neutral colours.

Much better than what she has…

And she can soon put her own stamp on it…

The carpets are deep and thick. Nonetheless, my footsteps echo in the empty rooms.

To furnish or not to furnish…?

Let her choose from the start?

Or furnish first then she can change it to suit herself?

in the style she already

Not easy…

No.

bedrooms. The window overlooks the harbour, the better part with the marina, small shops selling souvenirs and knick-knacks and bars that

She’ll like that…

if she’d like to run a

Sell her own

She’s artistic…

and talented…

Don’t get distracted.

the apartment, the

How to play this…?

Bookshelves…

Definitely.

Double bed...?

occurs to me that I

take

has

a decision and head out for

*****

Her phone rings.

“Hello?”

it’s Larry. I was wondering, are you free this

Meet you at

today. I want to show you something. I’ll send

“That’s great. What time?”

“About two?”

“I’ll see you then.”

*****

from where my pacing is wearing a track in the carpet. I turn down the

she’s there, smiling and lovely, in the fur-lined boots and gloves I bought her in Finland, enfolded in a huge woollen shawl and with a scarf covering half her face. Poking out from under the shawl is one

into the warm. Here, let me take your

cold as Helsinki if you read the thermometer, but that damp breeze…” She shivers. “Hope you don’t mind…” She looks sheepish as she slips off the boots and fishes low-heeled court shoes from her bag. In a shade

wrap, she offers the

would you like to drink? Something

“Lovely.”

both hands as she perches on a stool by the flames, she looks around.

stamp on it. On which subject, let's

and even

falls away, I

… extraordinary…

it? I recognise your style from

moves around to look

do, yes.

I painted it

the hell does she

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