Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 50

Michael

It’s an ordinary house, as average as they come; one small property in a block of near-identical brick-built terraces. The paint is fresh, but not too fresh. And the door, fronting directly to the road, looks well-used. But the windows are clean; no litter fouls the frontage…

And there is a light on inside…

Charlotte sits in the car, inert. Her face is a pale sheen and, as I take her fingers in mine, her hand is cold.

I lift the fingers, press them to my lips. “This is it, then.”

She nods but doesn’t move. “Suppose she doesn’t want to see me?” She’s gasping for air…

Panic attack?

“… She abandoned me all those years ago. Suppose she just didn’t want me?”

“Why would she not want you?”

“Because I’m his.”

James speaks. “There are plenty of mothers whose children have unworthy fathers, but they still love them.”

“You don’t have to do this, Charlotte,” I say, “but if you don’t, you’ll never be happy. Whatever happens, good or bad, at least you’ll know. Your life can move on.”

A figure moves past the window. Partially silhouetted against the light inside, nonetheless, there is the impression of a pale face, a red tint to the hair.

Charlotte straightens up, muttering. “Right… I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Without looking back, she steps out of the car and crosses the road.

I wind the window down. “Got any tissues in the car?” murmurs James.

“Course I have.”

*****

Charlotte

I stand in front of the door, suddenly timid again. My heart pounds so hard there’re touches of black at the edge of my vision.

Chill out…

Calm down…

*Deep breath*

*Roll neck and shoulders*

My chest loosens and my breath flows a little more easily.

Good to go…

My finger hovers over the brass-button bell, then presses. A Bing-Bong echoes from somewhere beyond.

And almost immediately, there is a hollow rumble of movement, the bang of a door, the rattle of the handle turning.

The door opens.

She’s there.

Her face is pale and tired. Lines radiate from the corners of her eyes. Her mouth is down-turned at the corners. Silver threads through amber hair. But her green eyes - I know them. I see them every day in the mirror.

I start to speak but find I can't. Sucking for saliva, I try again. “Hello. I’m… I’m Jenny.”

Like a statue she stares at me, her eyes running up and down me. Reaching out, she touches my face, her eyes widening, her mouth opening. She’s trying to speak, her lips making words that don’t come out. Then…

“Jenny?” The words turn into a shriek. “Jenny!” And she flings herself at me, throwing her arms around me. “You’re alive. Oh, God. It’s you. You’re alive. You’re alive!”

And she’s laughing and crying and so am I. And she holds me tight, then stands back to look at me, then pulls me close again…

*****

James

Michael reaches under the dash and pulls out a box of tissues, then a rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder. “Why d’you reckon women cry when they’re happy?”

“Beats me.”

We both get out of the car, standing to lean against it. Eyes creasing, Michael is holding in a smile, the tissue box cradled in one hand.

Bound to want ‘em soon…

Charlotte and her mother are flooding tears, babbling incoherently at each other. Up and down the street, curious faces are swinging their way.

Jade…

My Jade…

Finally finding your dreams…

The two women pause, I think to grab air. Charlotte looks my way, swiping the back of her hand under her nose and Michael waves the tissues at her. She nods as he walks across, offering the box. Her mother’s eyes…

Green…

So familiar…

… follow him, then return to me.

“Um, this is Michael… my husband… Mom…” Charlotte whispers the final word and Mitch shudders a breath.

“Come in,” she says. “You’d better come inside.” She motions across to me. “Your friend too.”

I stride across, hand offered. “James Alexanders. I’m a family friend. And I am delighted to meet you at last.”

*****