The Lover's Children novel Chapter 36

KLEMPNER

“I worked as a hotel cleaner for a while…” Jenny sets the bottle to one side and tucks the now unconscious Vicky into her cot. “… About one in three of the rooms would have all those little shampoos and soaps and stuff stripped out when I went to clean.”

“Ah…” Beth nods, crosses out a figure at the head of a page, replaces it, tots down the column, tapping with her pencil tip, muttering under her breath as she goes, replaces the figure at the bottom and draws a double line under the result. “If we assume that’s typical, we definitely have a discrepancy. Michael, want a look at what I have?”

“Sure.” Michael pulls up a chair.

Jenny watches the pair and shudders. “Sounds boring as hell,” she mutters.

“Maybe that’s why your cousin is a competent businesswoman…” I say… “… and you’re not.”

She scowls. “You think I’m not competent?”

“I think you’re not a businesswoman.”

Michael’s head pops up. “Nearly forgot what I came over for. Charlotte, can you take over the self-defence classes this morning? The ten and eleven o’clock sessions in the gym. Chad’s away for a few days.”

“Sure.” She glances at the clock. “I’ll get changed and head across now. Beth, you’ll be okay with Cara?”

“No problem.” Beth regards the mayhem in wax crayon being committed on her discarded paperwork. “So long as I can keep them off the wallpaper.”

Haswell appears at the door, suited, booted and briefcased. “Elizabeth, I’m going now… No…” He sets a hand on Michael’s shoulder as he starts to rise… “… don’t disturb yourself. I can see you’re busy.” He stoops, kisses Beth on the mouth. “I’ll see you this evening, my Love.”

“Is James going with you?”

“No, he’s working here today. If you’re looking for him, you’ll find him in the kitchen.”

He turns, makes for the door but Jenny touches him on the arm. “Richard, your tie’s crooked. Here…” She reaches up, nudges it to one side, then tuts, unravelling it, adjusting his collar. Haswell looks down at her, mouth twitching at the corners as she reties the knot. She stands back, examines the result. “That’s better.”

He kisses her on the cheek. “Thank you, Charlotte.” He exits and is gone.

“I’d better go too.” Jenny follows him out.

Mitch is lost in her sketching. Beth and Michael, heads close, don’t even seem to realise I’m there.

Something’s coming from the kitchen area. I amble through.

James is there, along with…

What’s her name…?

Sally…

… Michael’s chef. She’s tasting something from a tureen. “More garlic maybe?”

“Don’t you think that might be too much for the non-Spanish palate?”

“Maybe.”

They don’t notice me.

I suppose I could walk the dog…

*****

MICHAEL

“Damn!”

The breeze rises again, threatening to squall, classic Spring weather. One moment the sunshine is blistering. The next, clouds pile up, to sling down the kind of rain that only falls sideways.

The timber-panelled frame balanced against my left shoulder remains upright, but as the air gusts again, the one to my right, precariously propped against me and its partner, flexes, teeters, then in graceful slow-motion, falls…

“Ah, fucking hell!”

…Still gripping the left-hand panel, I snatch out, but too late. The breeze makes another playful flick, tugs the remaining panel from my grip, and it too collapses, the two lying flat as a pair of Friday night drunks on the grass.

The gust dies and the air falls still. Suddenly, it’s clammy. Swirls of gnats rise. Hands clasped behind my head, staring up, I vent.

Fuck... Fuck…

“Fuck!”

Then I realise I’m not alone. Silently, Klempner watches from the side-line.

"Um, sorry. Didn't see you there."

He sucks away a smile. “I didn't mean to disturb you. Just wanted to see what the racket was.”

“The racket is that I'm fucking busy.”

He mutters to his boots. “And vice versa...”