The Lover's Children novel Chapter 35

GEORGIE

Is there that extra moment that says he wants me…?

… but won’t take it further?

If there is, it’s brief enough that I’m not sure.

Borje’s breath blows blue. His pupils widen, then contract. “I’ll see you to the door.”

Side by side, we stroll to the hotel entrance. His fingers brush mine, but he makes no attempt to touch me. On the front step of the lobby, “Thank you for a lovely evening, Georgie. I hope we can repeat it.”

“I’d like that. Um… Would you like to come in for a coffee? They’ll still be serving at the bar.”

He shuffles, looks down. “Coffee? No, I have an early start tomorrow. But I’ll call you if I may?”

I can feel the subtext, something unsaid. But I can’t read it. “Borje, is there something wrong? You think my Dad’s going to appear with a shotgun? I'm one of the grown-ups.”

“Are you?” He smiles slightly, leans in, brushes lips over my cheek. The kiss is tender and soft, but so fleeting. “Good night, Georgie.”

And with that, he strolls back to the car and drives away into the night.

*****

THE CITY

“Don't hurt me,” she weeps. “I did everything you wanted.”

“Not yet. Not everything.”

I’m sick of her whining. So, I pay her.

That shuts her up.

*****

MICHAEL

The clatter and chaos of breakfast drifts along the hallway as I descend the stairs. Nature calls and, without thinking, I push open the door to the guest bathroom at the rear end of the hall.

It’s already occupied…

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean…” Then I stall. The occupant is Klempner, face and beard foamed, wielding one of the old-fashioned cut-throat razors.

“Got a problem in Mitch’s place? Something wrong with the plumbing?”

He pauses, a naked stripe of skin visible through the foam, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “No, no problem. Mitch has been dissolving herself in the bath for the last hour.”

“Ah… At that ungodly temperature women seem to favour? The ritual usually includes perfume, oils and a lot of steam.”

“That’s the one. I preferred not to venture out into the world radiating roses and lavender. It might give the wrong impression.” He draws the blade down, then frowns. “I’d not thought I’d be in the way here. I’ll only be a minute or so. I’m nearly done.”

Don’t hurry yourself. I’d hate you to make a slip with that thing at your throat.”

He doesn’t reply. Face angled to the mirror, he slips the blade up from under his chin, slicing away foam and stubble to a neat line edging his beard.

“I can lend you a razor if you need one. Or I’ll get one from the guest supplies in the hotel.”

Klempner completes the stroke before speaking. “Thank you, but I prefer to do it this way.”

“Why for God's sake? They invented safety razors to stop us all cutting our own throats.”

Klempner swills the blade clean in the basin, then once more draws it carefully up. before examining his face left and right… “It keeps me in practice for a steady hand.” Swiping away the remaining foam with a towel. he slides a hand under his chin and over the top of his neck, he nods in apparent satisfaction, then tosses the towel in a laundry basket… “Done. All yours.” And he strides past me, out and away, kitchenwards.

*****

In the kitchen, the normal breakfast activities are in full swing. Klempner sits at the table, an empty seat beside him.

James is at the hob. “Larry? Bacon? Mushrooms? Sausage?”

“Eggs are fine, thank you.”

James looks a little crestfallen. “How many?”

“Three sounds good.”

“Scrambled? Fried? Boiled? An omelette?”

“Poached please, if that's no trouble.”

“It's no trouble at all. I just thought you might like a change.”