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.”

at

Georgie turning up like that might not have been pleasant for him,

“I'm not so sure.”

was a low blow on her part. But I'm not sure what we can do

tips her 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 I look down, a lock of hair winds between

never make

and deliberately, she disentangles the knot of

me, Charlotte. What is this really

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

?

Tread carefully…

would I be

“He wants his daughter.”

You can’t give her back to him. Neither

could have another

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

“Yes,” she whispers.

Ahhh…

say, “Are you sure that's what you want to do…?” I speak slowly, carefully. “… What with your college work and

much time and... And I want him to have the chance to see her grow up…” She swallows hard. “But you’re

speaks so quietly, her head low. Her

mine, I kiss cold fingers then hold them between my warm palms. She gulps

too much crying recently,” I say. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trowelling on

don’t know what else I can do to help him. But I didn’t want…. I always thought that if it happened… Well, that it would be between the two of you. Fifty-fifty if it was you or him. And that would have been fine. I know it would.

do I feel

right thing to

will

… and last…

… and work…

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 a forefinger. “I mean that. Don’t move. I’ll be back in

to give my hands something to do. As

loved

Is that true?

No…

loved him

but she

her, she’d

gave her to

have kept her for

the house

… Helluva wedding present…

do I ever repay all

?

This would do it…

I sure of

?

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