Chapter 10

In the cafe, we take the next table to Michael and my Master.

And we talk…

“So, how long were you in Blessingmoors?”

“I was fourteen when they sent me to the farm…”

Her brow wrinkles, tugging at the swollen eye. “Farm?”

“Long story. You see…”

*****

She bursts out laughing. “You married him and he was gay?

Cringing inside, “Not one of my better moves I know. But we’re friends again now…”

*****

“You auctioned yourself?”

My face heats. “Mmm… I did.”

She raises her hand. A long finger points to the next table. “And he was your buyer?”

My Master’s face is masked.

I cringe inside. “That’s right.”

But my mother seems unflustered. She huffs. “Wish I’d thought of going down that route. It might have saved me a lot of…” She pauses, knotting her fingers. “Jenny, you know what I was? How I met your fath… Frank. And Larry?”

“I know. Yes. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. But if you know, why do you imagine I would condemn you for taking a shortcut?” Her gaze travels to the next table. My Master and Michael look back, their faces bland.

My Master stands. “I’m getting another pot of coffee. Want some Charlotte?”

“Thank you, Master. Yes.” Then I clap a hand over my mouth.

My mother takes a breath, looks at the ceiling, then back at my Master. Her face clears. “Ahhh… got it. You’re a Dom.”

“That’s right.” He regards her for a moment. “Coffee?”

“Please, yes.”

“Coming up.” He strolls to the counter.

Michael drinks, taking shelter behind his mug, but his eyes are on us.

My mother turns back, chuckling. “He’s a Dom. Is that all you’re trying to tell me?? Blondie here’s your husband and James is your Dom?”

“Y... Yes. I wouldn’t even have mentioned it, but with this morning and you coming with us and…”

“Jenny…” she lays a hand on my arm. “I was a pro for years. Do you really think you could tell me anything that would shock me about what people do together? I thought you were hiding something terrible.”

“I didn’t know if...”

She chuckles. “Jenny, if you can imagine it, there's someone out there who gets off on it. If you've got two of them…” She jerks a thumb at Michael, the other at my Master… “looking out for you in their different ways, well, good luck to you. To the three of you.”

*****

James

I scan the fridge, the contents of the freezer, the grocery cupboard…

What to make?

Something special…

A welcome meal…

Michael wanders into the kitchen. Legs akimbo, he hooks thumbs into his pockets. “You mad at me?”

“No. You were right to do what you did. But it’s going to need a few adjustments by all of us methinks.”

He sucks in his cheeks. “You’re not wrong there.”

“Where is she now?”

“Upstairs. I settled her into one of the spare rooms. She’s exhausted. Looked set to drop. I think she’ll sleep for a while.”

“And Charlotte?”

“Her too.” He looks at the jar in my hand. “What’s that?”

“Truffles. I thought I would make something special. Beouf de…”

He claps a hand on my shoulder. “If you don’t mind a suggestion, yes, but another night. For today, good solid home cooking. Settle her in. Don’t overdo it.”

He’s right…

I put the jar back on its shelf. “How about chicken casserole?”

“Sounds ideal.”

*****

The air hangs with the scent of sizzled onions and browned meat.

Carrots…

Broccoli…

Potatoes…

I give the dumpling mix a last stir and set it aside for later, pour myself a glass of wine then, drink in one hand, bottle in the other, turn to head for the lounge and all but walk into Mitch.

“Whoa! Sorry.” I whip up glass and bottle before I slop Rioja over her.

“That’s fine. No harm done.” She stands in the doorway, overwhelm written all over her. “Am I… in the way?”

“Not at all. You just caught me by surprise. Michael said you were asleep.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Too much spinning…” She winds a finger in a circle by her head, “… up here.”

“Hardly surprising. None of us have too many days like this in our lives. Come join me in the lounge. Have a glass of wine. We can talk.”

I take my armchair by the fire. She takes the other, looks around. “Michael?”

“Probably checking everything’s okay in the hotel.”

“Hotel?”

“He runs a spa hotel. It’s the building we passed on the way in.”

“Oh.” She’s very quiet, the wineglass a prop in her cupped hands. “I didn’t know that. I don’t know anything about any of you.”

“That’ll change. How are you doing?”

“I’m not sure. It's all so sudden. In a day I’ve gained a daughter, lost a husband, lost a home… Nothing to everything?”

“I suppose so.” I roll the wine around my mouth. “A daughter’s not all you’ve gained today. You’ve gained a son-in-law too in Michael. There’s me. There’s Beth…”

“Beth?”

“She’s another Kimberley. She’s wanted to find you almost as long as Charlotte. Ever since we knew of your existence and that she and Charlotte were definitely blood relations. Beth is your…” I run the relationship through my head… “… first cousin once removed, through your father’s brother Joseph.”

She regards me with one appraising eye. “You seem to know a lot about me.”

“Mitch…” I lean forward, elbows on knees… “We’ve been looking for you…”

Lighten the mood…

“You realise that you and I are sort-of related now?”

She bursts out laughing. “Oh, my God. I’m the mother-in-law, aren’t I? And you’re older than I am…”

Oh, fuck…

“I’d not thought of that. Perhaps it’s better you concentrate on the Michael being your son-in-law aspect of all this.”

Her laughter fades. She turns one emerald eye, oh, so familiar onto me. But a stranger looks out. “So you're a Dom?”

“That’s right.”

“Jenny's Dom?”

“Yes… You have a problem with that?”

“Not necessarily. I understand the relationship… So long as you don’t abuse the authority you have over her… But I don't know you; what kind of man you are.”

“I don't know you either. But here you are, staying in my home because I knew it would make your daughter happy.”

“You're a lot older than she is.”

“True.”

“So where does Michael fit into this?”

“Michael is her husband. Her husband de jure.”

“And you?”

“Her husband de facto.”

She smiles at that. “So, why does my daughter have two husbands?”

“Because I'm a lot older than she is. Long-term, she needs a younger man.”

Her head inclines, She aahhhs quietly. “So, when Jenny auctioned herself, and you bought her…”

“It was a business transaction. She needed money. I was looking for…”

Jeez…

“… I don’t know what I was looking for. I was divorced and I fell for the photo of a beautiful young girl right out of my fantasies. It was only for a week, but she came back to me. And later, it became more.”

“You don’t hold it against her… how you met?”

“No. It takes two to tango.”

“Before yesterday, you already knew that I...” Her eyes drop, and she looks away.

“That you were a prostitute? Yes, I knew.”

“Is it a problem for you? For Michael?”

“No. Everyone has to make a living. Some of us have more opportunities than others. Besides, I had the impression that you enjoyed your work. That you were good at it.”

“Impression? Where would you get an impression from?”

“Klempner.”

Her mouth draws open. The glass almost slips from her hand. “Larry? You've spoken with Larry? But he's in prison. I saw it on the news.”

“Yes, but Charlotte visits him. Michael and I go with her to be sure we know what's happening.”

Mitch stands. “Why? Why would she visit him? Why would Jenny want to see him?”

“She was trying to find you. She hoped he’d be able to tell her something that would lead her to you.”

Mitch lets out air, stares into space. “Was he very cruel to her? When she was small…”

She’s not ready for that…

But I don’t know what else to say.

So, I don't reply. An emerald gaze shifts to mine. “You think silence protects me? When I know that I could have reached her… Gotten her out of there?”

“Mitch, I don’t think you need the details. Not yet. Charlotte… your Jenny… She grew up. She’s a fine woman. An exceptional woman. Brave. Intelligent. Beautiful. Her childhood may have been harrowing, but it formed her; forged her into what she is.”

She presses fingers to her forehead, sighs. “I suppose… Stephen was the other way; took it to the other extreme. Always over-protective. Wouldn’t let me do anything. When I first left home, I didn’t know how to live in the world. I took years and some hard lessons learning how to survive.”

“Charlotte grew up knowing how to survive.”

She looks at me long. “I think you’re right. I’m probably not ready for the details… But… he didn't murder her. He could have, easily. But he didn't. I wonder why?” She taps a tooth with a long fingernail. “He wanted revenge. I saw that with Frank.”

“He said he hoped she would grow up like you.”

Her face goes slack. “She's his daughter. How sick can..?”

“You covered your tracks well, Mitch. Or someone did. He believed she was Conners' child.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes. When he realized she's his, his shock was clear.”

“How did he react?”

“Strangely. He was… remorseful perhaps. Ashamed? It’s hard to label. The next time we saw him, he said he was proud to have her as his daughter.”

The one eye widens. “How did Jenny take it? Learning he was her father?”

“Hysterically. It took me and Michael some days to calm her down.”

“But she’s accepted it now?”

“I’d say so. Thinking her way through the implications perhaps, as am I.”

She takes a mouthful of her wine, swallows, exhales slowly. “Would you say that Larry is safe now? Saner now… Knowing that?”

“Not for a minute.”

*****