Chapter 4

*****

Michael

Leaning back again the wall of the gym, arms folded, I watch Charlotte’s demonstration.

James, hands in pockets, watches too. “That’s a lot of pink lycra,” he comments.

“They’re not just here to get fit and beautiful. They’re here to be seen.”

“Who by?”

“Each other.”

“Mmmm….” He sucks in his cheeks.

Charlotte’s volunteer is the husband of one of her class members. Plucked from the group of men waiting to collect their wives at the end of the class, facing her, he looks uneasy. The other husbands watch from the side-lines

“This is a basic move you can use,” she’s saying. “It’s easy to remember and it works with your instincts.”

She cues her ‘assailant’ with a ‘come-get-me’ gesture. A bit uncertainly, he steps forward, arms outstretched, to be met by the heel of Charlotte’s hand punching forward to his face. He lurches back, and if he had not been an innocent volunteer, would I’m sure, have been disabled by the follow-up kick towards his groin.

Some of the husbands flinch. Others turn away. A couple cross their legs.

“Looks like the classes are going well,” comments James.

“They are,” I say. “We’re booked up and there are more enquiries coming in. I’m having to bring new staff for it.”

He cocks a brow. “I thought you and Charlotte were handling it?”

“Well, yes, but Charlotte’s involvement was only ever supposed to be temporary, to get it up and running and to see if it worked as an idea.”

“So why can’t you run the classes?”

“I could, but most of the applicants are women and, well…. I’m not quite comfortable with it.” James eyes me, frowning. “It can be pretty physical, and you really can’t demonstrate to a woman how to escape an arm-lock, or how to deal with a man who’s trying to, let’s face it, commit rape, without um…. close contact.” His mouth twitches. “I don’t think it’s fair on Charlotte. I’d rather bring in a proper trainer.”

“I take your point. When are you planning this new trainer?”

“I’m inviting applications now. And I’ll be setting up interviews for a couple of weeks’ time.”

*****

Twenty-Nine Years Ago - Klempner

My phone rings…. Conners.

“Hey, Larry. Good news. I tried a cheeky offer. Since you’re a cash buyer, I went in twenty percent under what they were asking. They stalled at that, but I added back five percent and they’ve accepted.”

“Ah, that is good news. Well done, Frank…. What was…?”

He cuts me short. “And I have that info you wanted.”

“Which information are we talking about?”

“You wanted to know who owned the sites adjacent to Blessingmoors. I’ve got most of it in and the rest is on its way.”

He’s good….

“Fast work. Where do you want to meet?”

“Same place? That hotel? I can be there in twenty minutes.”

*****

I survey the spread of information on the table. Conners sits in silence, propping his chin on a fist.

He’s really fucking good at his job….

“We’re agreed then,” says Conners. “I’ll follow-up on the offer on the main site….” He pencils a note…. “Who’s handling your legals?”

“Can you recommend someone? Someone who will understand any issues on permits and permissions. I’d prefer someone local who knows the turf.”

“Sure. No problem.” He pencils another note. “There’s a couple of lawyers I’m happy to recommend. I’ll have a chat with them about fees and get them to contact you. And do you want me to actively pursue the purchase of the other sites adjacent? To act for you on that?”

“Yes. If you get it right, you’ll get the lot and the commission that goes with it.”

“Splendid.” Conners sits up, rubbing his hands, then casts an eye over the paperwork. “Anything else for now?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Great.” He sniffs. “How do you fancy finding a bar and some female company?”

*****

Two hours later, Frank is tanked on beer. So is the over-made tart hanging on to his arm. And the bottle-blonde friend isn’t much better. Her mouth hangs slack and her mascara’s running, so the cow-eyes she’s making at me don’t appeal.

“Letsh go back to my playshh…” she slurs.

“I’m right with you darlin’” Frank staggers for the exit. “C’mon, Larry.”

I can't be bothered.

I don't want to fuck this little slut….

“I’ll pass. Enjoy your evening.”

“Hey, where are you going?” Frank winks towards Mascara Girl.

“I want an early night. I'll catch you tomorrow.”

He leers at each of them in turn. They giggle and simper back. “More for me. Eh, girls?”