Chapter Three - Charlotte
2074 Words
In the chair Mom bought me when I was expecting Cara, I sit by the nursery window, rocking gently, humming as I give Harry his feed. Wrapped in his blanket, soft and warm, just his face, still red and a bit wrinkly, peeping out, I hold my infant son to me, cupping his head as he suckles.
Mom looks in on me. “Jenny, I’m making myself some tea. Would you like some?”
“Could I have coffee?”
Her eyes narrow. “How much have you already had today?”
“Just one cup, with breakfast.”
“Fine.” She relaxes. “You want it up here? Or will you be coming down?”
“I’ll come down when Harry’s finished feeding, but it might be a while.”
“I’ll bring it up then… No!”
The ‘No!’ is aimed at Bear, snouting his way between her legs and the door, streaking a glaze of mud over the paintwork as he bullets his way to me.
She feels at his fur, tutting. “He’s soaked. I’ll put him in the kitchen while he dries off.”
“I wouldn’t bother. He just wants to say hello to Harry. Like he does with Cara. The big protective breeds do that sort of thing.”
Mom pulls a face. Huffs. “Maybe so. But he’ll not be very welcome in the house if he covers everything in grit.” Snagging him by the collar, she hauls him back out. “C’mon, Bear. Out of here. Jenny, I’ll be back in a few minutes with your coffee.”
The door clicks closed and I hear footsteps and claws clip downstairs.
Leaving me alone with my baby son.
Harry.
My little Harry…
I kiss his forehead. Still so small. Seeming almost too small to have room for the kiss.
My tiny boy.
My promise to Michael.
My wonderful husband. My Golden Lover. The man who’s tried so hard to give me everything I ever wanted. Finally, I’ve kept my promise to him.
Finally,Harry. Cara. Michael. My Master. Mom. Dad. Richard and Beth. Adam. I have it all.
Does life get any better?
Harry doesn’t seem to be sucking any more. He’s still locked onto my breast, but looks to be drifting into sleep.
Has he finished?
Looks like it.
Unhooking him, I wipe away the milky trickle from his mouth and chin, still marvelling at the everything-in-miniature aspect of my son…
everything-in-miniature… then wipe myself clean and re-hook the maternity bra, cupping and lifting ‘the sisters’ as I ease everything back into position.
Bloody hell…
Be glad when these things are a bit smaller…
Still…
Popular with Michael in the meantime though…
Of course, he’s not the one walking around with a couple of two-pound water bags super-glued to the front of his chest.
Harry’s not quite asleep yet, but he’s well on the way. Ducking under the Congratulations! It’s a Boy! balloon bobbing from the back of my chair, I haul myself upright, grab a lungful of air as I achieve vertical, then, crooning as I rock him, I gaze out and down, taking in the view down the mountain.
Congratulations! It’s a Boy!vertical,After a few minutes, Richard’s car pulls to the front, Ross holding the door open for him as, stiff-spined, Richard gets in. Moments later, the car crunches over the gravel and disappears toward the gate.
It rained overnight. The day’s dull, a wind beginning to whip at the trees, and sulky clouds threaten more rain. But still, it’s green and lovely, sheep-grazed turf, clipped short, stretching down in a long meadow to the lake far below. Ideal walking and riding country.
Be riding again soon…
Me ‘n Charlie. Side by side with my Master and Oliver. A fresh breeze in our faces as we ride. He wearing that non-smiling smile of his as we talk.
Yes, riding would be good.
Get some weight off…
Recover some muscle…
Back to normality…
And my smile blooms.
Downstairs…
The basement…
My Master’s playroom…
My Master and Michael. The three of us. As it’s supposed to be. Richard and Beth too, probably.
Kneeling for him…
At his feet…
Naked…
My head lowered…
Breasts and hair swinging…
He holds the pommel, kissing my shoulders with the tresses. Velvety soft leather…
Michael… My golden-haired angel…
Watching me…
Watching my face. Watching that, as I fly, I don’t fall…
And afterward…
He loves me…
Gives me himself…
Deep inside me…
His blue-on-blue gaze locked with mine…
My Master too…
His dark eyes, deep pools to his soul as he takes me…
I find myself swallowing hard, chewing at a lip. My mouth is dry, but down below, despite still being sore, I’m growing warm and wet.
Not long now.
Just get myself back into shape.
Abruptly, I’m jolted from my daydream by the sound of a car engine.
My Master’s car? Or Richard’s?
Perhaps they forgot something.
As it rumbles closer, Bear barks an alert downstairs. Scruffy’s yaps back him up, and the paired barking grows louder, echoing from the hall downstairs as they trot through to the front door.
So much for locking him in the kitchen.
But Bear’s barking is not of the Welcome Home variety. It carries the edge of Unknown Approaching.
Welcome HomeUnknown Approaching.And, as I look down, I don’t recognise the car that crawls round from the hotel. Large and long, black. An expensive model.
Curious, I watch as it draws up to the front, then men get out. From the back seat, three men exit. It must have been a squeeze. One of them is huge. Another, while not so tall, is wide-shouldered and stocky. Both look to be constructed from gristle. The third is smaller with a wiry build, and black, slicked-back hair.
All wear suits, their shoes shiny with polish. On the face of it, respectable enough.
But…
Unease crawls through my stomach.
Who are they?
Instinctively, I pull back from the window, placing myself to see without being easily seen by anyone glancing up.
Both driver and passenger exit too. The driver is shaved, buzz-cut style, almost to the point of bald. The passenger straightens cuffs as he approaches the door, leading as though in charge. Tall, his salt-and-pepper hair leans more to the salt. There’s a touch of strut in his walk and he barks orders at the other men. I can’t pick out the words but, easing the window open a c***k, I catch the one in charge waving another of them away… “Toni, round the back. Vito, with me.”
“Yes, Mr de Palo.”
De Palo?
Who’s de Palo?
Clutching Harry tighter to me, I rock him, soothe him, calm him…
Stay quiet, Baby…
Bear’s barking is loud from behind the door, Scruffy’s yaps backing him up. As I watch, the one called Toni heads around the back of the house. The other men hover, obviously waiting for something.
What are they waiting for?
After a moment, something from behind me, the sound of banging carrying through from downstairs…
No, not banging. Knocking, but at the back door.
Bear and Scruffy’s barking grows louder, then abruptly quieter, as they skitter through to the kitchen, following the sound…
And in that moment…
Vito barges through the front door, de Palo and the others behind him. From the hall downstairs I hear the bang of the kitchen door slamming closed, and the barking abruptly mutes as the dogs are fastened in. Half a minute later, Toni returns from the back of the house, following the men in through the front door.
Who are they?
are they?It hardly matters. Whoever they are, they’re so obviously menacing that…
Michael…
In the hotel…
So close. So far.
Phone.
Pat at my pockets...
Phone…
Scan the room…
Phone…
Where is the damn thing?
Where the damn thing?Downstairs?
Fuck!
Heart banging, I lay Harry in his cot, pulling a blanket over him. Briefly checking the baby monitor’s turned on, I edge closer to the nursery door, angling to look downstairs.
Mom’s there, de Palo, flanked by his minions, looming over her. “Mrs Waterman is it? Or is it Mrs Klempner?”
Klempner?”Her voice is frosty. “My name is Waterman. And you are?”
you“A friend of your husband. I arranged to meet him here.”
The frost chills to full ice. “My husband isn"t here. He said nothing to me about any appointment. And I don’t believe any of his friends would barge into his home uninvited.”
friendsDe Palo’s voice is smug. “Ah, this is his home then? I"m happy to wait.”
is“It’s not convenie…”
But de Palo pushes past her and into the lounge. Mom’s voice rises, growing louder, edgier. “If my husband were really expecting you, I’m quite sure he would have been here. He’s very efficient.” Despite the irritation sparking in her words, there’s something else.
Fear?
She knows who they are?
But no one told me?
But no one told Moving as silently as I can, I make my way to the top of the stairs. In the hall below, the kitchen door thuds, Bear barking hysterically from the other side, hurling himself against the woodwork. Claws scrape too, Scruffy’s I assume. The door handle rattles and shakes under the battering.
Moving as quickly as I can, I tiptoe down the stairs, making for that door, but as I touchdown into the hall, a figure steps out from the lounge.
De Palo’s men are obviously chosen for at least their size. Tall and muscular, he claps a hand onto my wrist. “Got another one here, Mr de Palo.” I try to twist out from his grip, but I’m not so supple as I should be and his grip on me merely tightens.
“Who is it?” comes de Palo’s voice from the lounge.
“Dunno. Some woman. Looks a lot like the other two.”
“Bring her through. Check her for a phone. Get it off her if she has one.”
With a good look now at the group, de Palo’s tall and lean, dark-eyed as my Master, and with the kind of looks that, wearing a pleasanter expression, they’d call a ‘silver fox’. But the eyes hold no hint of the secret smile that lurks behind my Master’s gaze. Charmless, he wears arrogance like a cloak.
He measures me up and down with a kind of casual contempt... “Another lovely redhead.” … then looks between me and Mom, then Beth, perched on the edge of an armchair. “Mother and daughter, I take it? Doesn’t our Mr Klempner have an attractive family? Though I only heard tell of one adult daughter.” He aims his chin at me. “That’d be you. I heard you’d just had a kid.”
attractiveHe looks between us, then levels a finger at me. “So you’re Klempner’s older daughter...” The finger switches to Mitch… “And you’re the wife.” He spares a glance for Vicky, sleeping in her travel-cot. “That I take it is the younger daughter…” The finger swings to Beth. “So who are you? A cousin or something?”
“Something,” says Beth.
He pauses, waiting for more perhaps. “Never mind. Three is better than two when we’re talking hostages.”
“Hostages?” I say. “I thought you just wanted to chat with Larry?”
He smiles a smile, sweet and sickly. “Let’s be realistic, Ladies. You know why I’m here. We’ll just wait for that motherfucker to get here. If he doesn’t turn up soon, we’ll take you with us.”
Ladies.“I doubt that,” I say. “I saw you arrive. You came in one car. And you were already full. You’re not taking us anywhere.”
His head c***s. “S’ that right?” The smile sweetens further as he reaches into his jacket, producing a phone. “But it’s a good point.” He dabs at the screen then speaks into it. “We’ve found it. It’s the house just off from the hotel. Bring the others. You’ll see the car at the front. Park up, scatter, and search the area.”
*****
- Writer
