Richard

Michael’s bar of choice turns out to be more of a club, humming with activity. A singer croons from the stage; soft jazz which can barely be heard over the vibe of the crowd. A glitter ball spills multi-coloured light across a dance floor and here and there, a strobe splatters occasional black-light.

The two women take stools at the bar, whilst Michael, James and I find a table in a quieter corner.

Girl time…

Charlotte, so far as I usually see, normally drinks wine, but Michael has bought cocktails for both her and Elizabeth. The technicolour extravaganzas arrive draped with umbrellas, fruit, butterflies on sticks and a sparkler fizzing out of the top. The women watch them arrive and both burst into helpless laughter. Then, heads close, they start talking.

“How is she now?” I nod towards James’ and Michael’s communal wife.

“Getting over it, I think,” says James. “Without a doubt, it shocked her, learning that Klempner is her father.”

Michael grunts agreement.

“Of course…” I say, “… it was always known to be a possibility, surely? Had she simply closed herself off to the idea?”

James palms the back of his neck. “My guess is it was Klempner’s own certainty that Conners was her father that convinced her. But equally, I’d say that she wanted to be convinced.” He glances at Michael, the question in his eye, but the blond man isn’t paying attention.

Instead, he’s looking across the floor to where the women are involved in animated conversation. He sucks at his cheeks; gives me a nudge. “What do you think they're talking about?”

“How should I know?”

“Look at them,” he says. “Look.”

As one, James and I spin.

Charlotte is holding her palms open, perhaps two handspans apart. Elizabeth responds by opening her thumb and forefinger a couple of inches. They both dissolve into laughter.

Michael pulls a face. “You think we should be worried?” But a smile quirks at the corners of his mouth.

something. Charlotte responds by making a fist of her hand then sliding it up and down some invisible object with a pumping action. Then they both crease

the rest and relaxation you had in mind? Something about that conversation

can cope. They’re fine. If they’re laughing, it

a top-up in a minute.” He strolls off in the direction of the

as she talks with her friend. “They’re good for

in common; family, intelligence,

get past this latest

to get what she wants. I’ve never known anyone with such a terrifying version of courage. She can handle it.” Then, he nudges me with

across. Elizabeth, looking nervous, catches my eye. Sitting by the

except that a man is there. Weaving, he looks the worse for drink and he’s trying to talk to her. She’s turning away, not

But she looks upset…

She's vulnerable.

Where’s Charlotte vanished to?

the room, I see her heading for

moment, James.” He tilts

crowd is jostling and shoving, hampering my progress. Just as I find a break in the mass of bodies… as I am about to make my way across the

stands beside Elizabeth, who leans towards

man steps forward, oh-so-slightly. Although

seen Michael punch right

Michael stares after the stranger as he vanishes into the crowd then turns back to Elizabeth, offering his arm and nodding across to me and James. He waves a forefinger at the barman, a circular motion, then pointing to our table. Elizabeth is smiling as the pair make their way

I chuckle. “Saw that one off rather

is bland. “Would you pick

don’t think

us then pulls up a

honour…” says James, mouth quirking.

unhappy. Then as the two arrive, “That was rather well done,” I say. “Thank you, Michael. I was heading across myself, but you beat me to

“My pleasure. Anytime.”

rubs a knuckle

Will that upset Charlotte?

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