Michael

It’s dark, a frigid winter’s evening. James hasn’t come home from work yet and I can’t find Charlotte.

Where is she?

Having a bath maybe?

But the bathroom stands cold and empty.

Reading somewhere?

I try her study, the lounge and the dining room, still with no sign of her.

And then as I stop to flick the curtains closed in the lounge, there she is. Outside on the terrace, without so much as a jacket or a cushion, she hugs her knees as she sits on bare stone paving, staring into the dark.

She must be bloody freezing…

What’s this about?

Don’t rush it…

I make a couple of hot drinks, then venture outside.

She turns as I approach. I offer her a mug. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”

“Course not.” She sniffs. “That’s lovely. Thank you.”

“Hot nutmeg milk and dash of brandy. I thought if you were determined to freeze your butt, you’d better have something inside to help thaw it out.”

She nods then turns to stare into the dark again.

After a minute or so, I say, “Come on, spit it out. Whatever it is.”

“I was thinking about my mother.”

“What about her?”

“I might never find her.”

“Perhaps not, but we'll keep looking.”

She blows on the milk, takes a slow mouthful. “What I'm meaning is, it's about continuity, isn't it. As long as I'm here, there's a bit of her too. And my father. It's not all gone. And if...”

"If what?"

She chokes up. “He’s so unhappy. He’s usually so full of life; so full of… of take-it-in-big-bites… He’s… It’s just not him.”

“He? Who? James? I thought we were talking about you?”

“Yes… No… Yes…”

“Charlotte, you’re not making a lot of sense.”

Looking away, she drinks more of the milk, but moonlight reflects from the tears trailing down her cheeks.

I lay an arm over shoulders, kiss her face. She’s chilled, tasting salty. “You want to find your mother. He wants his daughter back.” I rub at my forehead. “I hate seeing him like this too. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but he’ll get over it.”

look at me. “You think

might not have been pleasant for him, but it is a kind

“I'm not so sure.”

“You might be right. It was a low blow on her

one thing I can do.” There’s a tremor in her voice. I wait, but she’s stalled

never make a

notices me looking and deliberately, she disentangles the knot of hair then folds her hands around her

What

before I did anything.” She’s gulping, stuttering her words. “I don't want you to

?

Tread carefully…

I

“He wants his daughter.”

You can’t give her

could have another

you telling me you want to

“Yes,” she whispers.

Ahhh…

that's what you want to do…?” I speak

You too, nearly as much. But he... he doesn't have so much time and... And I want him to have the chance to see her

speaks so quietly, her head low. Her

in mine, I kiss cold fingers then hold them between my

recently,” I say. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trowelling

it was you or him. And that would have been fine. I know it would. But this way, you’d be cut out and…. and….” The words and

do I

the right

will stand

… and last…

… and work…

but don't go away. I'm coming back. I just need to think.” I turn, heading for the kitchen, but mid-movement, I turn again, pointing a forefinger. “I mean that. Don’t move. I’ll be back

coffee from scratch, grinding beans to give my hands something to do. As they growl and judder

loved

Is that true?

No…

loved him

she

he’d asked her, she’d

her to

kept her

the house

… Helluva wedding present…

I ever repay all

?

This would do it…

sure of

?

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