Masters And Lovers 1-4
Chapter 23
I find him outside, glass in hand.
“Ben?”
He turns, and all the camaraderie and any pretense of good humor has vanished. “What?”
Close up, the smell of whiskey on his breath is strong.
“Are you alright?”
He takes a mouthful of the whiskey, rolls it around his mouth. “Alright? No, as a matter of fact, I’m not alright. You think there’s a reason I should be?”
“What’s the matter?”
In the darkness, the whites of his eyes reflect. “The matter is… You just announced to everyone, to all our family, as though it’s good news, that your wife is about to have a baby.”
“The rest of them seem very pleased about it.”
“Mike, you don’t even know it’s yours. It could be his.”
The words tumble from my mouth. “It is his…”
Crap…
Shouldn’t have said that…
Or should I?
Ben’s hands are fisting, knuckles whitening…
Here we go again…
“How…” He splutters the words, stops, then starts again. “How can you say that and be so calm? It’s his? You know that? You mean your wife has been fucking with him and you’ve not…?” His voice vanishes to a strangled gurgle.
“No. For what business it is of yours, that’s not what it means. We arranged it between us. Charlotte and I.”
“Arranged? What do you mean, arranged?”
“We arranged that… Jeez, Ben, there’s more than one way of getting your rocks off. We just made sure that only James was able to…”
Ah, Christ….
“To what? Impregnate her?” White-faced, Ben looms close. “How the fuck did he convince you to do that?”
“He didn’t. It’s not James’ doing. He didn’t know about it. It was Charlotte who wanted to give him something to make up for losing his daughter.”
“What d’you mean? Lose his daughter?”
“It’s a long story, Ben. Listen, what happened to you agreeing you’d think before you damned anyone to hell for not seeing things your way? If you didn’t condemn everything you hear that doesn’t fit your idea of how to do things, then I’d tell you more. As it is you make it impossi….”
“And what about her?”
“Her? Charlotte?”
“No, her mother. The woman you’ve got living in with you.”
“Mitch? What about her?”
“I figured it out. You wouldn’t tell me, but I figured it. She’s a hooker, isn’t she? You said she left home at fifteen. How else would she have managed? She went on the streets, and that’s why her brother wouldn’t have her back.” He squares up.
Fuck…
I don’t want to speak, don’t want to lie to my brother.
But if I admit the truth…
He repeats. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I inhale, then exhale. “Yes, you’re right. Mitch was very young; very sheltered and inexperienced. And yes, she had to feed herself, pay rent and all the other things that the rest of us have to do.”
Ben snorts. “So, Charlotte’s mother was a prostitute too.”
“What d’you mean… too? Are you trying to imply Charlotte is a prostitute?”
He shrugs. “What would you call it? The way she chooses to live… Runs in the family doesn't it. Be honest with yourself, Mike, she’s doesn't have the morals of an alley cat. This at least explains why.”
My face turning warm, “That's my wife you're talking about. Fucking well take that back.”
morals of an alley cat.” He slaps a
Condescending bastard…
She was being trained to be a sex worker. Her mother was already at it.
me. I want to shout him down,
want to punch
slap Ben’s hand away from
on, keeps talking… “…What happened? The mother got herself pregnant on the job I suppose and didn't want the kid? Just passed
She didn’t leave Charlotte there. Charlotte was… stolen…
of golden light casts over
a minute, Charlotte. Go back into
the party and I don’t want to talk to
drops. “You’re throwing
you out. You promised to behave but you just can’t control the urge to mouth off, can you? Good night.” And with that, I spin, march back
*****
Klempner - The Present
in the yard. A grey sky spits rain on the grey tarmac, grey stonework
the inside, stark and gloomy, a slatted bench flush to either side. Hoops and
Larry...” Hartwell pokes me
funny,
what idiot thinks you belong in a low-security prison but I’ll not be sorry you’re not my responsibility
as I
snaps Hartwell. “Larry’s a big boy now. He can get
his back turned to Hartwell, he grimaces in apology as I sit. Producing keys, he
the doors closed behind him. Tugging the sharply ironed crease of his trousers up at the knee, he takes a seat opposite, then bangs the flat of his hand on the wall by the grill; once, twice. The metal walls over the
which crackles as he speaks into it. “Setting off now.” He tucks it away again into the holster on his belt. On
Taser?
fabric of his shirt folds over the holster, partially concealing the contents. I lean, shifting on my seat as though uncomfortable, trying
No…
Glock?
HK45?
wrong, Larry?” Hartwell’s voice
digging in.” I offer up my restrained
“As I said, you’re
cigarette smoke compete with urine and vomit. Hartwell grimaces. “What is it about these things? Doesn’t matter how often they’re cleaned out,
grunt and he raises brows. “Something we agree on, eh? Like it nice and tidy do we? Too used to Mommy cleaning up
rise to his. Hartwell’s chin rises. “Yes, I’ll be glad to see the back of you,
How long?
careful what
out his
*****
key. The van jolts and halts. We jolt with
out his handset. “What’s
of fucking sheep
“Drive round them.”
“Can’t. It’s fenced.”
one hand with the handset, reaches for his sidearm with the other. “Move away from
looks to
on here? Sutcliffe?” But he’s looking down the muzzle of Sutcliffe’s Glock. Sutcliffe gestures with the gun, down to Hartwell’s sidearm. Slowly, reluctantly, he takes it from the holster, passing it to
a banging on the doors.
Sutcliffe speaks sidelong, eyes
man says. Open the door. And
white-faced, lets
Et Tu Brute?
one hand, but I’m cheerful about it. Rubbing blood back into my wrist, I unlock the doors. From the outside, the handle turns and the doors swing wide, letting in a rush of clean
to see you, sir.” Baxter
too, Baxter. Efficient as
hollow-sounding in the van.
Klempner to you.”
grins as he passes it across. “As you
coming. Hartwell screams as the blade goes in. I plunge, twist
driver? One
Baxter jerks his head to the doors.
ground, some sidekick of
“Please, you promised. My wife. My little boy…
what’s he talking
me, streaming tears. “They
to him. “And you love
says. “I’m dead. I know I’m dead. But don’t hurt them. Let them go. Please let them