The Lover's Children novel Chapter 53

JAMES

Richard clicks his tongue. “Your call, James. We’re at the broad-brush stroke stage so far. And I’m guessing rubbing shoulders with the Head of Social Services would bore you rigid?”

Hmmm…

“You’re not wrong. In that case, yes, thanks, Larry. If it’s convenient for you, I’d appreciate the lift.”

Klempner shrugs. “I’m taking Mitch into the City anyway. She wants to change something at one of the stores. We can easily time it so I pick you up at the end of the day.”

“Yah!” Cara’s war-cry. She catapults a glob of yolk and egg-white from her chubby fist. Yellow goo splats over trays, teapot and tablecloth. And Adam.

Adam retaliates with an answering yell, launching a blue Mickey Mouse spoon at his assailant.

“Christ!” mutters Klempner, fastidiously wiping a napkin over the gunk trickling down his lapel.

Beth and Charlotte rise as one, Beth whips away bowls, spoons and other weapons of mass destruction. Charlotte snatches up napkins and a washcloth. “Cara Deanna Summerford. You stop that right now!”

And Klempner bursts into a smile.

*****

Michael knocks back his coffee, yawns, stretches, then stands from the breakfast table. “Anyway, busy morning ahead. Got my rounds to do first in the hotel, then I’ll be outside. I’ll catch you all at lunchtime.”

Richard folds up his newspaper. “What are you working on out there?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Project Chickens.”

Cara babbles from her high-chair, stretching out her arms. “Wanna…Wanna… Wanna…”

He lifts her from the chair, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Want to come with me, Sweetie? You can help me at work today if you like?”

She gives him a toothy smile. “Ya… Ya… Ya… Help Daddy.”

“Come on then. We’ll see what we can find for you to do.”

Charlotte frowns. “You’re sure she won’t be in the way?”

Michael bounces Cara in his arms. “Nah… She’s fine. It’s good for kids to get out and about. She can meet people in the hotel. It’ll develop her confidence.”

Klempner pours for himself from my coffee pot. “Need any help with your chicken project?”

“If you want to. The run and coop are up, but I’m working on making it fox-proof now. If you’re happy to do a bit of digging, then yes, the help will be welcome.”

Mitch speaks in tones of silk and steel. “But not today, of course. We’ll be out shopping.”

Klempner looks glum. “No, not today.”

Richard snags his jacket from the back of the chair. “What’s the timescale for these chickens?”

“According to what I’ve read, twenty-one days…” Michael rocks outspread fingers… “Give or take a bit depending on the breed. I’m not sure exactly, as I bought a mix, so they could hatch over a few days. I got some general-purpose breeds, Australorps and Wyandottes, so they’re good for both meat and eggs…”

Michael’s not a big talker. It’s not often we hear him in full flow. But his enthusiasm bubbles. Richard’s eyes widen and he flicks a glance at me. Beth and Mitch hide smiles behind their hands.

“… I ordered some Bantams because they make nice pets for the children. Then I thought I’d get some Easter eggers for…” He pauses, “You’re not actually interested in any of this, are you?”

Richard’s expression unglazes. “Time for me to be off. I have a conference at half nine.” He kisses Beth on the cheek, Charlotte on the top of her head. “See you later. James?”

“I’ll be right behind you. I just need to pull my papers together.”

*****

Where are the damn plans?

Annoyed at myself, I sort through drawers and cupboards, poke around forgotten corners of my office…

Where the hell are they?

I’m already half an hour later than I meant to be…

“What are you looking for, Master?”

Charlotte stands in the doorway.

“The plans for the groundworks at F-Site. I’m supposed to be meeting with Sam Callaghan later and…”

“A1 plans? Rolled up in a cardboard tube?”

“That’s right. Where…?”

She dimples. “There’s a document tube downstairs by Richard’s desk. Weren’t you going over them with him yesterday?”

I smack a kiss on her mouth. “You’re a lifesaver. I have to dash. See you later.”

Plans tucked under my arm, I head for the car.

My phone buzzes: Michael.

He’s a two-minute walk away.

Why would he phone me from the hotel?