Charlotte, very subdued, all but silent, is making coffee.
“Would you like some, Michael?”
Not really….
“I"d love some. Thanks.”
She nods, but the smile I hope for isn"t there. As she places cup, saucer and coffee jug on a tray, even across the kitchen, I see her trembling fingers.
“Is that for James?”
She nods, biting her lip, then takes the tray.
Quietly, hanging back, I follow her to the lounge where James, unspeaking, has been brooding for the last two days.
“I brought you coffee, Master.”
His voice is joyless, flat. “Leave it on the table”
“I’m going for a walk, on the beach. Would you like to come with me?”
“No.” he replies, dismissing her with his voice.
What the f**k"s he playing at?
…. This simply isn"t necessary
Her footsteps cross the floor and hastily I back away
