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.”

that?

his food, stirring it around. “No. I always try to get something permanent. I work hard, and I’m

in his seat.

I said,

if you want to try.” Benny jolts up. “It

like a rising sun. “That’d be great.

And again, Benny takes it

though he’s never done

… and shakes.

site manager, Sam Callaghan.” He eyes Benny’s plate, just being cleaned of the last of its gravy, and jerks a thumb

off on a quest for apple pie, I say, “Thank you,

steeples fingers. “What goes around, come around. He was kind to you,

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago

but can’t concentrate. She watches daytime TV; quiz and game shows, crap soaps and re-runs. Two minutes

arrived wearing, so she settles in bed, trying to sleep. After twelve hours she can sleep no more and yet, gritty-eyed, feels as though she never

No-one calls.

long has it

Have they forgotten her?

here, she’s

beyond thinking, she

phone rings. She gazes dead-eyed at the ceiling for a

reaches from the depths of the bed.

sending a taxi to bring you to our offices. Be at the

*****

than the first time she visited the offices. “Mr Devlin

them out on the table top; a dozen faces, seen from different

barely hesitates as

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

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 this him?” His face is

than that now and he doesn’t have

man you know as Lawrence Klempner has known connections with a range of criminal organisations. In this photo here, he’s in Angola,