Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Klempner – The Present

Mine…

My daughter…

Mitch’s daughter…

Alexanders’ words haunt me…

You locked her in the dark with the corpses of the murdered...

I try to escape into sleep…

… The stinking breath

The blood-shot eyes, wild with rage

The fist…

Da... No...

And a scream of anger. ‘Leave him alone you bastard! Don't you touch him! Don’t you dare touch him…’

The smack of knuckles into flesh and another scream, now of pain…

‘Mommy! Don't hurt Mommy!’

The figure so tall…

The screams of pain becoming shrieks…

The smack of knuckles into flesh…

The little figure grabs for something… Anything…

… He swings the big metal stick with all his might, aiming for the ankles… ‘Stop hurting Mommy!’

A scream of rage and pain. ‘You little bastard!’

‘Run, Lamb, Hide!’

dashing for the bedroom. His mother snatches

‘Bitch!’

screams again,

the door slams.

out from under the bed,

the door, top and bottom, then rushes across. ‘It’s alright, Lamb. He’s gone now.’ Crouching down, she rocks

Sobbing, ‘You’re bleeding, Mommy…’

nothing, Sweetie. Don’t

wipes his face with the cloth, squeezing warm

‘A bit.’

know it hurts but let's have a sleep. We'll

you tell me

I will.’ She’s talking all funny. ‘What story would you

one about the train

lifts him into the bed then climbs in beside him. ‘Once upon a time, there was

‘Mommy?’

to sleep now. You sleep too. It’ll be better in the morning.’ She pulls him close, humming as she strokes his hair. After a

*****

Is it time for breakfast?’ But she doesn't answer,

‘Mommy?’

…

…

*****

The door bangs. ‘Fucking well open up. I know you're in there. Your car’s at the

minute the door bangs again, heaves; bangs and heaves, the bolts straining on their screws until, with a crash,

in. ‘What the fuck?’ Fanning against a buzzing tide of bluebottles, he stares down at the small, filthy figure on the

lies across the tiles, the contents scattered: wrappers licked

small boy has an open gash on one hand, swollen, the skin stretched shiny

she?

little boy drops his head, tears

What the fuck’s that that

me. I want her to tell me a story and

gapes then charges around the apartment. As he pushes the bedroom door open, clouds of flies swarm up and through and

the little boy and pushes him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. ‘You stay

boy sits, hunching small, trembling, listening to the clatter and the

man marches in, reaching down to haul him up by the injured hand which oozes, slick