Masters And Lovers 1-4

Chapter 41

Michael…

He’s depressed…

What can I do?

Change of scene maybe?

*****

“Charlotte, I was thinking, we’re about due for your road-trip.”

She pauses, half a sausage impaled on a fork midway to her mouth. “Road-trip, Master? What road-trip?”

“Have you forgotten that you were bequeathed a house? And everything in it. Perhaps it is time to make good your claim?”

The half-a-sausage drops back to her plate. “Go back to the farm you mean? The last time I was there, they… they weren’t very welcoming.”

Michael is listening, chewing on toast and marmalade, suddenly looking more animated than he has for days.

Thank God…

“Things have changed since then, haven’t they,” he says. “You’ve spoken with your friend Tom. He knows the truth of what happened. And of course, there’s Chad.”

Still she stares at the sausage and the fried egg congealing by it. “I’m not sure…”

I pour myself more coffee. “Even if all you decide to do is sell the house, you’ll need to visit to go over the contents. And I would have thought there would be something there you would want to keep. Some memento of your Mr Kalkowski?”

“And if you really don’t want to…” says Michael “… we don’t have to visit your farm, although it would seem a shame. I would have liked to meet your old friends.”

She looks down, stirring the sausage through semi-solid yolk.

*****

Chad half supports the woman at the waist, guiding her movement over thick rubber matting. “That’s it. Now tuck in your head, down and roll… And as you come down, slap the mat, both hands, as hard as you can.”

She lands on her back with a thwack and a gasp. “That’s it. You’ve got the idea,” he says. “Now try it again, but without me in the way.”

As he moves to one side, he spots me. “James?” His brows rise. “Didn’t expect to see you in the gym. Something I can do for you?”

“In fact, there is. When you’ve done here, could I have ten minutes?”

“You can have it now.” He waves across to a girl in a tracksuit. “Jill, can you take over while I talk with Mr Alexanders.”

grace and

“Not here. Somewhere private.”

“Your house then?”

don’t want

a couple of coffees from the kitchen then and take

nippy out there,”

hands we sit on a bench, looking down over the meadows and down to the lake. Chad sucks at his mug then smacks his

favour without you feeling pressured into agreeing

I don’t have a clue what you’re

to you… you broke

gay, yes.

blamed her for the break-up? And later took the opportunity to be sure that

sighs out steam fragrant with alcohol. “I

house, but she’s reluctant. I think the

you’d like me

“Yes, if you’re willing.”

of coffee, staring down at the lake. Then another. “I should have done this years ago. Yes, I’ll

Is that

a very good idea. My mother’s too fond of imposing her ideas on everyone else. It will do

*****

We stop overnight en route and get an early start the following morning. Just before lunchtime, we arrive at what was once the home of

the trunk of theirs. Sebastian

hands in pockets. “Hasn’t changed much, has it? You’d think he was still in

working. She nods a

Trying not to cry?

while not exactly clipped, shows signs of tending. The paint on doors and windows is touched up in places. The brass door-knocker is recently polished, the path swept,

been looking after the

Collier sends over one of the farm hands every so often,” says Chad. “She and Mr Kalkowski were good friends.

Jenny?” Her eyes are glossy. He casts a look over his shoulder to Michael, then slips his hand in to hers.

and they walk, Chad leading her slightly, to the door. Charlotte inserts the key, and the lock turns smoothly. The pair step inside. Michael, Sebastian and I follow, through a small hallway and into

hanging. “I’ll open the curtains and windows, shall I?” suggests Michael. “Let the air through.” He tugs back drapes and sunshine spills into the small room,

side-table. A cup-ring on one has burned through

wall. Most of the shelves are filled with volumes old and new, but an astrolabe takes pride of place on one, a lovely instrument in brass, set

photographs, and polished sections of a pink and black granite, ammonites and

looking lost. “It doesn’t feel right,” she whispers. “He’s supposed to be here, sitting in his chair by

of my mother’s

places; but the eyes of a young couple look out at me; standing together; both dark-eyed and dark-haired, he tall and lean, she shorter, with a pretty, likable face. Both wear the hairstyle and clothes of fifty

flanked by a woman to one side and a tall male figure in a suit on the other. The man is elderly,

His expression?

This is exclusive content from Dramanovels.com. Please visit Dramanovels.com to support the author and the translation team!

Comments ()

0/255