Her Master’s Wedding-3
1892 Words
“But you are interested in Charlotte.”
“I’m interested in Jennifer. And her mother. Mitch was mine.”
I don’t like the emphasis in his words. “You know, from most men that would be a statement of love, or at least affection. From you, it smacks of ownership. But of course, that’s what you did, isn’t it? Own people. Enslave them. Before you were caught anyway…. How did Frank Conners die?”
“Who wants to know?”
“My fiancée.”
His eyes drop to my hand, then to James. “Nice rings. A good match to the ones she’s wearing. You’re planning on putting something legal on her?”
“I’m marrying her in a few weeks, since you ask.”
He grins, but there’s no humour there. “I'm sure that my lack of an invitation to the wedding was an oversight, not a deliberate insult.”
“How did her father die?”
“Look in the records.”
“The records aren't there.”
“Really? I suppose I have Bech to thank for that. So why do you think I'm going to give you a full confession?”
“You’ve already confessed. We’d simply like to know the details. How did he die?”
Klempner considers, nods. “In the river. Off the side of the old bridge. I imagine if it was dredged there, something might turn up.”
“Christ, you’re a heartless bastard.”
“I daresay you’re right.” His eyes shift between me and James. “You going to let her visit me then?”
“We’ll think about it,” snaps James. Then to me, “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so, unless….” I turn to Klempner…. “Anything you want to add?”
“Not right now. But I’ll hope to see you again, Michael. With Jennifer.” He nods across, apparently polite. “James.”
*****
The car door bleeps and we get in. “So, what do you make of that?” I say, starting up the engine.
James buckles up then tips his head back, staring heavenward. “I think he's an appalling bastard. And every bit as dangerous to Charlotte as he was before. He’s obsessive, egotistical and completely fixated on Michelle. And therefore, from that, on Charlotte.”
“I agree, but you know, I think he genuinely loved the woman.”
James blows out his cheeks, musing. “And you believe that makes him any less dangerous?”
“Not at all. His idea of love is ownership. Fortunately….” We drive at a crawl through heavy gates which sweep closed behind us. “…. he’s securely locked up, isn’t he.” A second set of gates swings open to let us exit… “Do we tell Charlotte we've seen him?”
James hmmms. “I don't think so. At least not yet. I think you and I need to digest what Klempner said. If Charlotte gets any ideas, she might just decide to take matters into her own hands.”
“Yes, she might.”
I drive. James, hands clasped, orbits one thumb around the other. “Charlotte's had to think for herself most of her life,” he says. “And she's had someone trying to control her for most of that life. She's not used to having anyone else to rely on. She's not apt to give up her liberty easily.”
“Even when it's you that’s asking?”
His lips pucker to a half-smile. “Even when it's me.”
*****
Chapter Seven - Klempner – Did You Do It?
“Did you do it?”
“Yes, Mr Klempner. Just as you asked.”
“Perfect. I’ll not forget this, Sutcliffe.”
“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else?”
“No, not right now.”
He leaves, the door clanging shut behind him. The lock grinds as the key turns but the sound no longer bothers me.
Two photos sit on my locker. One old. One new. I pick up the older one….
Happier days….
The photo is faded, the colours no longer true, the corners frayed and yellowing….
…. Mitch, smiling, bright-eyed, beautiful, wearing green as she often did, her arm around my waist.
The other photo….
Jennifer….
…. Mitch’s daughter….
Grown up just like her mother.
Mine.
*****
Chapter Eight - Beth - Albert’s Funeral
The car crunches onto the drive, pulling up by the front porch. Ross jumps out then walks around the car to open my door. “Will there be anything else, Mrs Haswell?”
“No, that’s fine thank you, Ross. You go home. It’s been a long day.”
Inside, Richard is waiting. “Elizabeth, it’s good to see you.” He kisses my cheek, takes my coat and offers me the armchair near the fire. “How did it go?”
I feel sad. Not upset, but sad. The old uncle I knew as a girl had long since vanished into a haze of confusion and bitterness. His time had come….
No, not upset, but yes, sad.
“Oh, you know funerals. Everyone was there, whether they really knew him or not. All exchanging family chit-chat and nonsense over canapés. No-one was really close to him anymore, not even David and Stephen.”
“David and Stephen?”
“Uncle Albert’s two sons. He’d pretty much stopped talking to them over the years. I think they were just going through the motions today.”
Richard perches on the chair arm next to me. He strokes my face, kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry, my Love. I know you were fond of the old fellow.” Tilting up my face with a finger under my chin, “Can I get you anything? A glass of wine? Something stronger?”
“A gin and tonic would be nice.”
“Coming up. I’ll just get some ice.”
He reappears a couple of minutes later with two G&Ts clinking with ice and lemon. “Thought I’d keep you company,” he smiles. “Come on. Sit with me by the fire.” He gestures me down, winding an arm around me as we sit together on the rug, staring into the flames.
After a while I say, “Since the whole family was there, I tried asking about Charlotte again. Not the details obviously. Just that I had a friend who looks a lot like me and we think her mother was called Kimberly.”
“And?”
“And, nothing. Blank stares from the younger ones and the older generation found something else to talk about.”
“You think the topic was being cold-shouldered?”
“Mmm, yes. By the oldsters at least. I don’t think the younger ones know anything.”
“So, maybe it was your Uncle George after all? Climbing through bedroom windows and making a scandal.”
“Well, if it was, it's too late to ask him. He died five years ago. That generation has gone now. Uncle Albert as the last of them.”
Richard watches me for a minute, then leans in, brushing his lips over mine. “I don’t think you should dwell on it. It’s obvious that you and Charlotte are something to each other. Why don’t we just call the pair of you cousins and leave it at that?”
“Because Charlotte wants to find her mother.”
*****
Chapter Nine - Richard – Charlotte’s Problem
“Is something bothering you, Charlotte?”
“Um, it’s a bit embarrassing actually.”
“Can I help?”
She hangs her head.
“Charlotte, we’re friends, aren’t we? Is it something I can help with?”
She watches her own feet, toeing at the ground. “I’ve been looking at the menus for the wedding reception. Michael and my Mast… James, seem to be planning something quite…. complicated.”
“Don’t you like what they’re planning? It’s your wedding too, remember. The bride gets first call. If you don’t like something, you’re entitled to say.”
“Oh, no. It’s great. All of it. It really is... It’s just…. For the meal… There’s all these courses. And I don’t know what most of the food is….”
“Like what?”
“Well, what’s sad-zee-kee?”
Sahdzeekee?
?
?
I try to move my head to Planet Charlotte….
Ah…. Tzatziki….
“It’s yoghurt and mint. It’s a popular dressing on spicy food.”
“Oh….” Her face brightens. “That doesn’t sound so bad. What about Wellington? It sounds like a boot and I…. I didn’t like to ask.” Her head droops again.
“Charlotte, you shouldn’t worry over asking about something you don’t know. How else will you learn? And wellington is beef baked inside pastry. Or sometimes a vegetarian version will be served, with say, a cheese, herb and nut filling.”
“Oh! Well…. That sounds okay as well, I suppose. But then there’s a lot of knives and forks and things…. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with them all.” Her face is tragic. “Michael and James… I know they’re both looking forward to it so much. I… I don’t want to look a fool and spoil it for them.”
“Charlotte, it’s easily dealt with. Elizabeth can show you your way around the dinner table. And then, James and I have to attend one of those infernal charity dinners next week. I rather not, but I’m expected to be seen at these events. However, in this case, I think you should be there too. It will give you some practice at, um, formal eating.”
“Thank you.” Her voice is small, subdued.
Poor kid….
All the things she seen and done and gone through, and it’s her own wedding meal that scares her….
Most women would kill for the invitation I just gave her.
“Come on, Charlotte. It’s your wedding. It’s is your day. Learn to enjoy it. Michael and James maybe as happy as sandboys organising it all, but no-one cares about them. You’re the bride. On the day, all the eyes will be on you.”
“That’s what I’m nervous of.”
*****
Chapter Ten - James – The Charity Dinner
Charity dinner night and the four of us make our way to the table, Elizabeth on Richard’s arm, Charlotte on mine. Like Richard, I detest these events, but these days it’s expected of me and at least this evening I have some entertaining company.
But Charlotte looks glum, muttering under her breath.
“What’s bothering you? I thought you wanted to come?”
“I feel like the ugly duckling.”
?
?
I look down at my Jade, exquisite in a plain black dress, cut to her figure and stopping just short of the knee. “Why Charlotte?”
She gestures around the room. “Look at them all, in their dresses and jewellery and.…”
*Sigh*
“Charlotte, look at the other women in this room. They may all have designer dresses and jewellery and bags and shoes. You could have all of that too if it meant a damn thing to you. But it doesn't, and I don't insist, because if you were wearing a sack, you would still outshine every other woman here.”
She rolls eyes at me but looks a little reassured.
Richard harrumphs and I smile to Beth. “Present company excluded of course.” But there’s a twinkle in Richard’s eye.
I turn back to Charlotte. “Besides which, I’m sure you know as well as I do, the ending to the story of the Ugly Duckling.”
I wink at her, and she smiles.
*****
Chapter Eleven - Richard – The Charity Dinner
At the large circular table, I have Elizabeth to one side, Mayor Vandervoort to the other. My elegant wife makes a manful effort to smile as she exchanges chit-chat with his wife, Veronica, a couple of seats along. She’s doing a great job. I know she loathes the woman, an overly-made-up blond who nurses the illusion that traffic-stop-red suits her complexion. If you stepped in her personality, you wouldn’t wet your feet.
Beyond her are my old friend, Will Stanton, the Police Commissioner and his wife. Across from us are some of the local Councillors and minor politicians with their assorted females. And finally, there is James, and beside him, looking petrified, is Charlotte.
Completely out of her depth….
…. and her comfort zone….
But the practice is good for her….
When I get her on my Board in a few years’ time, she’ll need to be to grips with this….
However, regardless of the quality of some of the company we are keeping, the food is very good and Charlotte, finally raising a smile, tucks in. Her eyes, I notice, follow Elizabeth as the hors d'oeuvres are served. Her hands hover over the cutlery, before, following Elizabeth, she picks up the tiny rounds of toast and pate in her fingers.
- Writer
