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...

flame fanning up to burn hot and bright and

… Lighting the darkness.

clears and I'm able to stand.

them; small,

?

out the strange object. A butterfly dangles

How…?

?

?

grazing her skin… snagging on something which strains and pops to dangle from

from sliced fingers

She was wearing it.

His gift…

inside me. Fists clenching, the pain lances

Conners.

*****

James

leaves. Michael considers the slip of paper in his hand. Richard and Beth sit in silence, listening

what do we tell Charlotte?”

into a 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 there to find nothing but a car park and a supermarket. It would break her

not planning on knocking on

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

“Fair enough.”

*****

Michael

A classic city edge…

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

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

can bring

*****

Charlotte

against the vehicle, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankle. My Master paces up

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

My feet drag. My heart flutters and my lungs

Enough already…

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

What if she answers?

Will I recognise her?

she know

shuffle, the click of a turning lock, the clunk of a

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

was looking for

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