Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Chapter 49

Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago

She’s gone.

What now?

I stare out of the window of the apartment I bought for her, overlooking the harbour with its yachts and pleasure boats, ice-cream kiosks and artsy-craftsy shops. Sunshine glints outside on the water, gleams on fresh paint, blue and white, and on polished timber decks, then spills into the room. But there’s no warmth in it. Tugging my jacket around me, I hiss as pain stabs through my hand. Gashed flesh swollen and heated, seeps blood.

I should dress it…

…

Later…

I thought I had it.

I thought I had her.

I really did.

…

…

It’s so cold.

Walking through to the kitchen, I limp a little where my ankle twisted as I fell…

Would he really have run me down?

… then clumsily, working with one hand, I make coffee, splashing in a hefty measure of whiskey, then more until the cup teeters on overflowing.

You had me fooled, Larry. You really had me going. When you left, I was coming to see you… and then I saw them…

Returning with the drink to stand in the scant heat of the sunshine, I watch holidaymakers and tourists going about their moronic activities. Hot alcohol and caffeine sear a trail down my throat but still, there’s no warmth inside me.

She was coming to see me…

Coming to say she’d be with me…

Shivering, I drain the dregs.

Bitter as bile, churning and toxic, regret wells up inside me…

Enfolds me in its harsh embrace…

Overwhelms me…

There’s not enough air. Pain draws a band around my chest, tighter; ever tighter.

Dropping to my knees, I cover my face.

Hide from the world…

Is this all there is?

Hide from myself…

She ran to him…

and to

Conners...

fanning up to burn

… Lighting the darkness.

can breathe again. Inhaling, I draw one deep lungful after another, sucking at the air until my head clears and I'm able to stand. Using the window ledge to support myself, I pull myself upright again, plunging hands white

something brushes against them;

?

swollen, I pull out the strange object. A butterfly dangles from its chain, twinkling silver as it spins

How…?

?

?

her skin… snagging on something which strains

from sliced fingers

She was wearing it.

His gift…

boils inside me. Fists clenching, the pain lances through

Conners.

*****

 

James

leaves. Michael considers the slip of paper in his hand.

do we tell Charlotte?”

pocket. “I’m going to drive across there tomorrow and see what the area looks like. I don’t want a repeat of last time; going all the way

not planning on knocking on

But I want to check at

“Fair enough.”

*****

 

Michael

A classic city edge…

the address. Written in a careful hand, printed capitals, it is quite

of movement, but paintwork is fresh and clean; floral curtains drape

I can bring

*****

 

Charlotte

me. Michael leans back against the vehicle, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankle. My

a light on at a downstairs window; movement inside, shapes silhouetted

up the will to move. My feet drag.

Enough already…

on the door. It rat-tats, echoing through the space

What if she answers?

Will I recognise her?

she know who

lock, the clunk of a bolt being drawn back, then the door

young man, perhaps thirty. He’s good-looking in an unremarkable way, but

I was looking for Michelle? Is she

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