Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

The food in the canteen isn’t haut cuisine, being served for a clientele who go for quantity over quality. But it’s hot and there’s plenty of it, and Benny hits his plate as though he’s not eaten for a week…

Perhaps he hasn’t…

My Master has his smile firmly switched to On, but I see his eyes travelling Benny, measuring and gauging. He doesn’t say much, simply playing with a bowl of soup while Benny engulfs a huge plate of casserole, veg and mash, then wipes the plate down with a roll.

“They do top-ups as part of the price.” My Master waves vaguely at the serving counter. “Go get more if you want it.”

Benny mumbles something and gripping his tray, heads for the serving counters. As soon as he is out of earshot, my Master turns to me. “So, how do you know him?”

“He was in Blessingmoors when I was. He… was kind to me.”

His brows rise. “Kind to you?” He props an elbow on the table, his chin on a fist.

“Yes. At a time when there wasn’t much kindness around, Benny tried.”

Expressionless, “What did he do?”

The stew I just ate sours as I seek memories I usually suppress. “There was a day… There weren’t many books in Blessingmoors. I think they only kept the ones they had to fool the authorities. But there was one. It was my favourite. ‘The Thousand and One Nights’. You know, the Arabian Nights…” The smallest of nods. “One of the men there, one of the staff, ripped it up…”

In a voice with no tone, “Why did he do that?”

“No reason. Just for spite. But he tore it up in front of me then…” I bite down on my words, shrinking from the memory. “Anyway, Benny tried to mend it. Put it back together again for me.”

My Master says nothing, takes a spoonful of soup. Benny returns with another mountain of food.

“So, what do you do, Benny?” asks my Master.

Benny chews at a potato chunk, struggles to swallow before he speaks. “Do?”

“What do you do for a living? Charlotte here… Jenny… is training to be an engineer. What do you do?”

Benny’s eyes round up, his smile broad and bright as he looks at me. “Engineer? Hey, that’s great.” Then he looks down into his plate. “But she was always the smart one. I’m not clever like her. I don’t have a job right now.”

My Master muses into his soup. “Would you like to work? You want a job?”

Gulping down, “Oh, yes. I always get work if I can, but it never lasts long.”

furrowing, “Why’s that? Short contract

it around. “No. I always try to get something permanent. I work hard, and I’m good with my hands, but sooner or later they

up in his seat. “You can’t

thin face flushes. “Like I

going here on site if you want to try.” Benny jolts up. “It would just be temporary labouring for now, but if

a grin like a rising sun. “That’d be great. Sure. Whatever you’ve

My Master offers his hand again. And again, Benny takes

never done it

… and shakes.

Enjoy your meal and after lunch, I’ll introduce you to the site manager, Sam Callaghan.” He eyes Benny’s plate, just being cleaned of the last of its gravy, and jerks a thumb back at the counters. “I believe

quest for apple

kind to you, and for

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago

world. She tries to read but can’t concentrate. She watches daytime TV; quiz and

clothes she arrived wearing, so she settles in bed, trying to sleep. After twelve hours she can sleep no more and yet, gritty-eyed, feels as

No-one calls.

has it

Have they forgotten her?

here, she’s

beyond thinking,

rings. She gazes dead-eyed at the ceiling

reaches from the depths of the bed.

taxi to bring you to our

*****

time she visited the offices. “Mr Devlin is expecting you, Miss Kimberley. Go straight in. Tea

He takes a sheaf of photos from an envelope, spreading them out on the table top; a dozen faces, seen from different angles and distances; not good quality, as though taken covertly or perhaps reproduced from newspaper cuttings. “Your

photos but barely

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

nods, pursing his lips, then lays another photograph on the table; a different shot of the same face. Old and blurred, in black and white but yellowing at the corners, nonetheless the features are clear. “Is

His hair is darker than that now and he doesn’t have the beard. “But, yes, it’s him.” She picks it up, peers close. “Is

“Mitch, I don't want to scare you, but I have to say that you have become involved with a very dangerous individual. The man you know as Lawrence Klempner has known connections with a range of criminal organisations. In this photo here,