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?

permanent. I work hard, and I’m good with my hands, but sooner or

Master sits up in

“Like I

you want to try.” Benny jolts up. “It would just be temporary labouring for now,

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

And again,

though he’s never done

… and shakes.

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 dessert is

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

come around. He was kind

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago

staring out at the world. She tries to read but can’t concentrate. She watches daytime TV; quiz and game shows, crap soaps and re-runs. Two minutes later, she can’t

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

No-one calls.

long has

Have they forgotten her?

here, she’s

thinking, she

gazes dead-eyed at the ceiling for a moment before registering what the

reaches from the depths of the bed.

bring you to our offices. Be at the front door in

*****

much friendlier than the first time she visited the offices. “Mr Devlin is expecting you, Miss Kimberley. Go straight

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 man Klempner,

photos but barely hesitates as she points.

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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.