Masters And Lovers 1-4

*****

James

“What was your father like?” I ask.

Richard blows out his cheeks then stares out of the window. “He was a hard-headed businessman.”

“The sort who might drive a man to bankruptcy if it suited his purpose?”

Would he have done that?

“I don’t think so. But if a man got there under his own steam, my father wouldn’t have hesitated to take advantage of any fallout.”

“Such as buying up shares and assets at a knockdown price?”

“Something like that, yes.”

Michael looks up from his reading. “We already know it was a casino company that was the leading creditor so, whatever happened, it wasn’t your father that was responsible for Albert’s downfall.”

Richard still looks pensive. “I still think I'd like to know more about the whole sorry mess before I tell Elizabeth too much about it.”

*****

Forty-Two Years ago

little rough but short enough to kick a football around. A child’s swing hanging from the branches of an old apple tree and a rug is laid out nearby with a child’s tea-set arranged around the edges, each plastic cup and saucer next to a teddy bear, or a doll or a soft toy. A line stretches over the grass bearing sheets and

house, it is equally pleasant. The walls are painted in a pale, fresh shade, dotted with prints and pictures, family photos, and here and there, framed displays of butterflies, dragonflies and beetles. Drapes flutter by windows opened to let in sun and air, carpets are clean, and surfaces wiped or dusted. By the front door, a collection of

the kitchen, the mood is

appetizingly scented steam. Close by is

ordinary enough activity, but performed with an edge to the movement that suggests it is as well there

wrapping

onto the chopping board. “I ran into Amy today.” Her voice is

“Amy? Who’s Amy?”

Blackstone. You know, Sid

That Amy….” Al sounds uncertain, backing away a step or

spins, turning on him. “She tells me that you’ve been down there regularly these last few

“Eve….”

me that you’ve been taking Shelley with you. What kind of environment is that for

advances on her husband. He glances at the knife still in her hand. Her eyes follow his and then, with exaggerated care, she puts it down. “How much have you been losing, Al?” she hisses. “How much? First you tell me you’ve sunk every

“You’ll see. And it wasn’t much on the tables. It’s only a bit of

I bought her only a couple of months ago. The roof needs repairs and the boiler is going to give

much. Really….” He tries to wrap his arms around her, but

as if it’s the first time is it, Al? You promised me you’d stopped. If I