Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 74

*****

Later I find him at his desk, holding a picture frame. Georgie’s face looks out, a little blurry at the edges from where I think he must have blown up the photo to fit. Edging a hip over a corner of the desk, I look at the face of my Master’s daughter.

“Are you alright?”

“Just remembering,” he says.

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve not seen her in a long time. She was working towards a PhD around the time I met you, but that’s the last I heard from her.”

“You miss her.” It’s not a question.

“Yes, I miss her.”

“And her mother? Your ex-wife.”

He snorts. “No, I don’t miss Marlene. That’s good riddance as far as I’m concerned.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

His eyes rise to mine and his head tilts. “How could you possibly help on this, Charlotte? When a child turns from you, how could she be turned back?”

His eyes droop, his sadness so palpable….

Dropping to my knees, I place my hand on his. “Master, you gave me everything. I want to give you everything.”

“I don’t think you can give me this, Charlotte.”

*****

James

Ben is getting on my nerves.

It’s all very well that he is Michael’s brother and it’s good of him to offer so much help with the work in the grounds, but his eyes follow me. He stays for a couple of days at a time, usually over the weekend. I’m uncomfortable in my own home.

Heading out of the house to go to work, Charlotte, as ever, walks like queen of the world. I am slightly behind her, my hand in the small of her back.

“Hi, Champ.” Ben nods and smiles. His smile withers when he sees me. “James.”

“Ben.” He scowls, but I make no move to take my hand from Charlotte….

…. That would look like guilty behaviour.

Instead, I simply step to one side and open the door ahead of her, breaking my touch on her in a more natural manner

I'll be glad when that bastard goes back home….

*****

Michael and Ben have worked like heroes on the back garden. And for all that Ben and I are never going to see eye to eye, but I can hardly deny the amount of help he’s given.

Perhaps I should try to build some bridges….

Take some of the pressure off Michael….

Another hot day, probably one of the last hot days. September is a lovely month, but it means winter is around the corner.

Ben leans on his spade surveying his handiwork: the last of the veg beds Charlotte wanted. With the brambles removed, the earth turned and cleaned of the last of the briar and nettle roots, the ball’s in her court now. That mongrel of his scrabbles a hole in one corner, spraying soil in all directions.

I pass him a can of beer, as near as I can get to a peace offering. “It’s good of you to spend so much of your summer helping Michael,” I say. “He really appreciates it.”

For a change, there's a bit of warmth in Ben’s face as he replies. He waves expansively over the view. “What better place to spend long summer days?” He rubs the beer can over the back of his neck, then under his chin. “God, that’s good.” Then he cocks an eye to me. “Besides, what's my alternative? Go to our mother's place and spend all my weekends and vacation being lectured by old aunties about how it used to be?”

For once, I can sympathise with him. I huff “Yes, I get that. It was a bit like that for me as a boy.”

“Oh? Big family?”

“Yes, the Spanish have extended families. No one gets lonely, but it can drive you mad.”

He arches a brow, levering open the ring-pull of the can. “Spanish? You don't go back then?”

“No, that generation has all gone now. My life is here.”

Something passes over his face at that, but I think he’s trying to be placating too. “So…. how do you and Mike know each other? You don't seem like very likely friends.”

*Warning bells ring*

But I want to be courteous. I settle for prevarication.

“Oh, we just ran into each other one night at a bar we were both hanging out at. I was in town on business. We got talking and... Well, you know how it is. We hit it off.”

He nods and takes a suck of the beer.

Then another.

“So, you met Charlotte first?”

Christ….

“That's right.”

Another suck on the beer, then, “And it was what.... Some kind of older-guy-young-girl thing?”

I don't reply.

He keeps talking. “I'd have thought you’d both have it out of your system by now. She's married for God's sake. And to my brother. Anyone would think you were trying to sabotage their marriage. Or steal his wife.”

My temper snaps. “I’m doing no such fucking thing, Ben. He’s my closest friend and I want their marriage to be a successful and happy one. And for the record, I am not trying to steal anything from Michael and neither of us needs your interference.

His face hardens, and our brief camaraderie has gone.