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.

like that 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 part. But I'm not sure what we can do

head back, draining her mug, setting it to one side. “There's one thing I can do.” There’s a tremor in her voice. I wait, but she’s stalled and as

never make

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

to me, Charlotte. What

you about it before I did anything.” She’s gulping, stuttering her

?

Tread carefully…

would I be

“He wants his daughter.”

can’t give her back to him. Neither can

could have

“Charlotte, are you telling me you want to get pregnant? By

“Yes,” she whispers.

Ahhh…

do…?” I speak slowly, carefully. “… What with your college work and wanting to be an engineer and

to do the things I want. 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

her head low. Her fingers knot together, then unknot, then

I kiss cold fingers then hold them between my warm

think I haven’t noticed you trowelling on the

between the two of you. Fifty-fifty if it was you or him. And that would have been fine. I know it would. But this way, you’d be

I

right thing to

that will stand

… and last…

… and work…

minutes will you. It’s kind of a lot to take on board all at once. I'm going to make a couple more hot drinks, 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

to give my hands something to do. As they growl and judder into powder, I set milk on

always loved

Is that true?

No…

loved him

she married

her, she’d

gave her to

kept her

the house

… Helluva wedding present…

I ever repay

?

This would do it…

I sure of

?

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