Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Chapter 41

Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago

I call the number of the new apartment…

The apartment I bought her…

No reply.

Did she stay?

I try her old apartment instead.

Still no answer, but the ansa-machine clicks in. “Hi, Mitch. It’s Larry. Just to let you know that I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m hoping we can meet up. I thought you might be able to meet me at the airport. I’m coming in on the three forty-five from Amsterdam. But if you can’t make it, I’ll drop round to the new place around six. I’m… I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Disappointment pinches at my stomach.

Will she meet me?

*****

In Arrivals, I scan. The crowd mills and jostles. Kids, shrieking with excitement, run up to adults crouched down with outstretched arms and big smiles. Businessmen with briefcases march up to cabbies holding up cardboard signs scrawled in felt-tip capitals. A girl pushes past me to pelt across the floor and fling herself into the arms of a waiting boyfriend. The pair laugh and babble as he lifts her from her feet, spinning her.

But there’s no Mitch.

She’ll be waiting in the apartment…

Bound to be…

I hail a cab, staring out at billboards and neon, gaudy in the already failing February light. They advertise rings and chocolates, flowers and eternal promises, flashing up ‘Forever’ and I *heart* you’.

Wonder if she’ll like the painting?

At the harbour, I exit the taxi. Over the waters, lights bob as yachts and pleasure cruisers ride rippling waters. Multi-coloured lights drape from trees and buildings and masts, giving the area a jolly, gala-like feel and brightening the streets. But Mitch’s apartment windows are dark.

I pay the cabbie, but, “Wait for me would you,”

“Of course, sir.”

reach for the keys in my pocket but

Her apartment…

No strings…

press the

no movement. The darkness remains, the

for a teacup ringed inside with brown and a tea-pot. stone-cold. When I lift the lid,

Her own work…

Helsinki Harbour, sits on the carpet,

steams in the chill and the air has that

check the

The drawers; empty. The bed looks unslept-in. And save for a few shadings between door and bed, the

even

the blankets rumpled, the sheet thrown back from when she invited me to

Let-down gnaws at me.

offend her

With a gift?

stands leaning

the

address; that dingy apartment which, apparently, she prefers to all that I

Gave her…

taxi pulls away, the garish harbour lights irritating me with their

do I say to

you just flushed my

seeking her window. Again,

Headed out…?

Working again?

twists in his seat. “Want me to

“Please, yes.”

the panel of buzzers before I press hers. There’s a buzz but no response. I try the handle, but of course,

Now what?

young woman trundles close pushing a small screaming child in a stroller. At the bottom step, she spins, reverses and tries to back up, struggling with

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