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…

me and

Conners...

flickers; a flame fanning up to burn hot and

… Lighting the darkness.

another, sucking at the air until my head clears and I'm able to stand. Using the window ledge to support

against them; small, cold

?

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

How…?

?

?

grazing her skin… snagging on something which strains

blood streaming from sliced fingers and palm.

She was wearing it.

His gift…

inside me. Fists clenching, the pain lances through me, waking me, making me feel alive

Conners.

*****

 

James

Michael considers the slip of paper in his hand.

we tell Charlotte?” I

see what the area looks like. I don’t want a repeat of last time;

planning on knocking on

that wouldn’t be right. But I want to check at least

“Fair enough.”

*****

 

Michael

A classic city edge…

in a careful hand, printed

on and there is no sign of movement, but paintwork is fresh and clean; floral curtains drape inside, the door-knocker is of brightly polished

I can bring her

*****

 

Charlotte

out of the car with me. Michael leans back against the vehicle, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankle. My Master paces up and down a

light on at a downstairs window; movement

I can’t summon up the will to move. My feet drag. My

Enough already…

I rap smartly on the door. It rat-tats,

What if she answers?

Will I recognise her?

she know who I

clunk of a bolt

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

for

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