Babel Novel
Chapter 6
Chapter 6
The old movie turns out to be ‘Gone with the Wind’. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but with Charlotte tucked into the crook of Michael’s arm as we watch Scarlet and her antics, I’m not complaining.
Sitting propped up with pillows, I try to read the news on my tablet, but the movie is oddly compelling. At first, I can’t figure why.
Then I realise Michael is watching me. “What?” he asks.
“Just speculating,” I say, watching Rhett with his “No, I don’t think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly…” speech, looming over the heroine in good old-fashioned movie style.
“Speculating about what?”
“Rhett Butler.” I nod to the screen. “Dom?”
Charlotte’s head swivels. “Master?”
“Look at him. They didn’t talk about such things in those days, but look at him.”
“But all the old movie heroes were like that, Master.”
I chew a lip. “Mmmm. I suppose.”
Charlotte looks to the screen then, mischief in her eyes, back to me. “He looks a bit like you, Master.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No, she’s right,” says Michael, wearing a hastily constructed straight face. “He does look a bit like you.”
Mmmm.…
*****
We sit sharing a late lunch. The weather hasn’t improved. It’s cold, windy and the rain is still lashing down. So it’s soup; thick and meaty with dumplings and crusty bread. Food to line the stomach and warm the blood. Michael downs his in swift economical bites. Charlotte polishes off hers then serves herself another half a bowl from the tureen. She regards it solemnly, then ladles in more until the bowl is full.
How the hell do you stay that shape?
Lots of ‘exercise’…
And long may it continue…
Michael clears his throat then, “Charlotte, I thought you’d like to know I’ve hired a new trainer for the self-defence classes.”
“That’s good.” She spears a dumpling from the serving dish, dropping it into her bowl, hesitates, then adds another. “When does she start?”
“It’s a man, not a woman. I’m trying him down in the City first, just on a trial period. If it works out I’ll bring him up here to train our high-bred ladies, perhaps in two or three weeks' time.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting him.”
Charlotte runs an eye over her husband. “Are you sure about that outfit?”
Michael looks down at himself. He's wearing white slacks and shoes and a casual white linen shirt. “No, I'm not. It was Beth's suggestion for when I’m in the hotel just playing the manager. What do you
think?”
Charlotte looks to me. I cock a brow back. “He’s your husband, not mine.”
But Michael turns to me too. “What do you think?”
I take the time to swallow my mouthful. “You look as though you've stepped out of an advert for orange juice.”
He nods, sniffing. “Thought so. I'll go change back to jeans and a tee-shirt.”
Charlotte’s lips pucker. “I didn't say I don't like it.”
He raises eyes to heaven. “Make up your mind. Yes or no?”
“Here at the spa centre, yes. Anywhere else, no. It's too much.”
“God save us,” he mutters, eyeballing me. “Orange juice?” And he stamps off.
Rhett Butler, eh?
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
“Could you pass me the soup dish please, Charlotte.”
*****
Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
I want to see her.
I want to see her…
… to touch her…
Surprise her maybe?
*****
I press the buzzer.
No response…
I press again. This time there’s the sound of movement from beyond, the scrape of metal at the peephole, then the door opens.
“Larry, I wasn't expecting you.” She’s casually dressed and wears no make-up.
“I thought I'd surprise you.” She doesn’t look entirely pleased. “You don't mind, do you?”
“No, of course not.” But her voice wavers. “What are you looking at?”
“I've never seen you dressed like that before.”
She glances down at her plain white tee-shirt and cut-off pants. “If you turn up out of the blue, you have to take me as you find me.”
“Fair enough.” I start to laugh, but the laugh is stillborn
That damn necklace…
I reach, touching the silver butterfly that dangles by the hollow of her neck.
Conners’ gift...
“I give you emeralds and you're wearing this fairground trinket?”
Her hand rises to finger the bauble. “Emeralds are a bit overdone for everyday wear don't you think?” Her voice is flat. “This is fine for when I'm out and about wearing just my second-best tiara.”
“Maybe.” I toe at the carpet. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Why are you here? I wasn't due to see you until this evening.”
“I thought we might go to lunch. There's rather a nice Italian place just opened down by....”
She rubs at her forehead. “Larry, I can't. I have an appointment in an hour...”
… My gut tightens…
“… I was just about to get bathed and changed.”
I watch my own foot, still scuffing at the carpet, apparently of its own volition. “You don't have to do this, Mitch. I'd take care of you. I have plenty...”
Her voice remains flat. “And what makes you think that’s what I want?”
“You don't have to be a whore...”
Corridor….
… Neighbours…
“… Please let me come in. I want to talk with you.”
Her eyes fall, but she nods, standing the door wide to let me enter. Inside, I close it behind me. “You don’t have to do this. You're too good for it. To keep selling yourself…” I slide a finger inside my collar,
feeling warm.
Her colour rising, her voice too… “So, I sell myself to one man instead of many? That’s your answer?”
“It's not like that.”
“Of course it is. The only difference is that instead of having rented myself out, I’d have sold my soul. Larry, this is my living.”
“What happened to Helsinki? I thought… I thought we’d connected. That there was something…”
“It was wonderful, Larry. It really was, but it’s back to real life now. For both of us.”
“For both of us? What does that mean? I’m just your client again? If I want to see you I have to pay for your time?”
“Nooo.” She falters.
“What then?”
She starts speaking, then stutters into silence.
“What is it?”
“I suppose I’d not thought it through. I don't want to take money from you, Larry. But I don’t want…”
“Don’t want what? You think I’m turning up looking for a freebie? Is that it?”
“No!” She backs off, pressing at her temple. “Oh God, I'm confused. It's suddenly all so complicated.”
“Why is it complicated, Mitch? What’s changed since we got back?”
She stands, eyes screwed closed, pressing at her temple. “You and Frank… At first, you were just a couple of guys. You had your fun. You paid me and that was it until next time.” She opens her eyes again, looks at me. “Now you're both getting heavy and...”
Heavy?
Both?
“What do you mean? Heavy? Frank's up to something? What’s he saying?” All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
“He keeps... Oh never mind. I don't know what to do. Maybe I should just stop seeing either of you.”
No…
“No, don't do that... Mitch, I don’t want to be your client. I... don't want to fuck you. I want to make love with you. Don't you want that too? Like it was at Christmas? The two of us?”
“I… don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, won’t you give it a chance? Mitch…” I reach out, take her by the shoulders. “Mitch, listen. I’m going away at the end of the month. Not for long. Just a few days. Will you give it until then? To try? If it doesn’t work out, that’s fair enough, but at least you’ll know.”
She’s swallowing hard. “Just to the end of the month? That’s all you’re asking?
“That’s all I’m asking.”
Her voice is a whisper. “Alright. Until the end of the month. I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
She’s blinking hard and, my hands still on her shoulders, the tremble in her body runs through to mine…
It’s so hard for her…
… Why?
Why is it so hard?
“Larry, would you mind? Go now, please. I have a headache. I’d like to lie down for.”
“What about your appointment?”
“I’ll cancel it.”
Yes!
“I’ll see you tonight then?” She's uncertain, hovering. “I can see you tonight?”
“I think I'd rather just have an early night.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“Alright. Tomorrow.”
“You won’t change your mind?”
She looks up, looks me in the eye. And finally, she smiles. “No, I won’t change my mind. I’ve said I’ll try. If that’s what you want, then I will.”
“Thank you.” I touch her cheek, then carefully, brush my lips over hers. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Until tomorrow.”
And I leave her apartment humming.
*****