The trail is lovely, the winter sun streaming through the trees, their naked boughs casting an intricate
tracery of light and shade.
But I’m in no mood to enjoy it. Charlie stamps and judders under me, tossing her head. I pull back on
the reins. “I don't know what's wrong with her today.”
My Master is cool. “It’s not the horse, Charlotte, but the rider. You're in a mood and Charlie's picking up
your mood. You’re perching in the saddle as though you’re the one about to bolt. And if you jerk the
reins like that again, I’ll take them from you. Charlie doesn’t deserve to be the butt of your temper.”
He’s right…
But so what?
Clicking my tongue, I urge Charlie forward and she breaks into a trot, but her eyes roll back at me…
“Charlotte...”
… I urge on my mount. The air is fresh on my skin. The sun shimmers and dances to the leaf-littered
ground. But nothing dispels the clouds in my head.
“Charlotte!” My Master’s voice snaps like a whip. With a thunder of hooves, Oliver pulls up beside me
and my Master reaches across, snatching at Charlie’s bridle. “You may be angry with me, but you will
not ignore me.”
He wrenches the reins from my hands then leads me, with Charlie, to a tree, looping the reins over a
branch. Swinging a long leg over his saddle he dismounts then snaps a gesture to the ground. “Down!”
My throat dry, I obey. My Master reaches, catching me as my feet touch turf, then pushing me
backward, my spine pressed flat against a tree trunk.
His face close to mine, he hisses at me, “I am trying to be fair to both you and Georgie. And both of you
are giving me a hard time. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here, Charlotte. And I don't care
for it. You are treating me as though I have done something I should apologise for, and I do not believe,
or accept, I have done anything to deserve that.”
I have nothing to say.
*****
Michael
The pair blow in through the door, in theory, together.
James stalks in, face reddened. Charlotte follows and, without a word or a smile, disappears into the
kitchen.
I watch her scuttle away, then catch James by the arm. “What’s going on?”
James swipes a hand through his hair, blows air through puffed cheeks. “Georgie.” Then spinning, face
set, he strides out again. The door slams closed behind him.
This has gone on long enough…
I hover by the window, listening for the crunch of footsteps on gravel to fade, then head for the kitchen
where Charlotte is taking one of Cara’s feed bottles from the fridge.
Her eyes flick to mine and then back to the bottle. “Hi.”
“Don’t Hi me. What d’you think you’re up to, Charlotte?”
“Up to?” The innocence in her voice sounds fake and as she puts the bottle into the microwave, she
keeps her face turned away. Even side-on, the flush on her cheeks is visible.
“And don’t play the innocent either. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. I don’t think James
deserves to be upset like this. And certainly not by you.”
“He wants to bring her here….” Still, she doesn’t look at me… “… Into the house. Why would I want her
here? This is my home.”
“It’s James’ home too. And Georgie is his daughter. His other daughter.”
She fiddles with the bottle, screwing and unscrewing the cap, as though she’s doing something useful.
But nothing’s happening. It achieves nothing. “She didn’t want anything to do with me before,” she
mutters. “Or with Cara. Or with him. Why should I make her welcome here? I don’t even know why he
wants her here. It’s been years since she had anything to do with him.”
“Charlotte…” I move to stand over her… “… Georgie is James’ daughter.” She tries to slide away but I
lay hands on the worktop either side of her, caging her between my arms. It’s not often I get heavy with
Charlotte, but sometimes… “Don't you think you're being unfair to James?”
Her eyes narrow and I don’t bother trying to keep the disgust out of my voice. “I have to say, Charlotte,
I didn't think you were this small-minded…”
She hisses, raising a hand to me, but I grab her wrist, holding it in mid-air. “… James has been grieving
over losing Georgie for as long as I've known him. And now, just when he has the perfect opportunity to
make up with her again, you behave like this. It’s petty and wilful and downright selfish.”
“She was horrible to me…” she snaps… “… When we met her in that clothes store, that time, when she
saw I was pregnant, she was just awful. To me. And to him. She didn’t even pretend to be nice. She
couldn’t get away fast enough.”
The problem, of course, is that every word Charlotte says is true…
… but it’s not the point at all…
“Charlotte, I realise that Georgie was epically insulting to you, but…” I press the end of a finger to her
chin. “…she had just discovered her father's new wife is a woman younger than she is. Give that news
credit for a bit of shock value…” I pause, but Charlotte remains stony-faced.
C’mon, Babe, you’re better than this…
… But her chin juts and her lips press flat.
I stand away, releasing her. Scratching at my forehead…
How the fuck to deal with this?
?
“Michael, let me…” It’s Mitch, cradling Cara.
I wave an arm from mother to daughter. “Be my guest.”
Mitch holds Cara, displaying her. “Jenny, listen to me…” Charlotte’s face is still set, but her head
inclines…
At least she’s listening…
Mitch continues, all the while, bouncing Cara gently in her arms. The baby girl gurgles and chuckles. “It
is in the nature of things that we love our children more than they love us.”
Charlotte’s jaw drops. “Mom…”
I think mine does too.
“No, listen to me, Jenny…” Mitch has a set to her jaw I’ve not often seen… “…That’s how it is, and how
it should be….” Mitch moves closer and, in her embrace, Cara burbles and bubbles. “…Ask yourself a
question. If something happened: a fire, or a car accident… a terrorist attack maybe… and you were
faced with the choice, who would you save? Me or Cara?”
Charlotte’s mouth flaps. “Mom, I wouldn’t…”
I look away, not wanting to let my face betray me.
The same core of steel as her daughter…
“No, Jenny. Don’t argue about it. Answer the question. If your back was against the wall. If you had no
other choice, me or Cara, who would you save?”
Charlotte’s blinking hard, her eyes glossy. “Cara,” she whispers.
“Of course you would…” Mitch smiles... “… And that’s as it should be. Cara is your child and you would
do anything for her, just as I would for you. But think…” Cara supported in one arm, she strokes
Charlotte’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair behind an ear, “… Georgie is James’ child. I know it upset you
when he left us, but of course he had to go after her when she needed help. And of course, he wants
her close.”
All but imperceptibly, Charlotte is trembling. She sucks at her lips.
Mitch continues. “How do you think it feels Jenny when, through no fault of your own, you are robbed of
your child? You daughter. Your little girl…”
Charlotte’s eyes grow ever wider…
“… And when, years later, the chance to have her back comes, wouldn’t you want to take it?”
Charlotte’s tremble grows.
Mitch seems to grind to a halt, but I take over where she left off. “… Charlotte, I’m not a Dad yet,
although…” I grin, trying to ease the tension a little… “… I’m looking forward to it when you’re ready…”
A ghost of a smile curves over her lips… “But I can still imagine what it feels like to be a father. And I
can see it in others. Especially in James…”
She blinks, looks down with a small nod. Her intake of breath is trembly.
“… We all know he’s not great at showing his feelings. But we all know too, that he has them…”
Her eyes are gleaming…
“… I didn’t know James when it happened, the breakdown with his wife, his first wife, his divorce, how it
was that Georgie sided with her mother and not him. But I’ve come to know him well enough… I’ve
seen enough… that I don’t believe it was his fault…”
“Babe…” I cup her chin. “You're not doing this for Georgie. I don’t blame you for not liking her. Even
James admits she was a complete bitch that day. But you are doing it for him. Think on it. Whenever
James has known you wanted something, or needed something, he’s has moved heaven and Earth to
get it for you…” I tighten my hold on her chin. “How often has he ever asked anything of you?”
She swallows, her eyes great, green full moons.
“If you don’t let this happen, Babe, you're just being selfish, unforgivably so. I know you're upset. But
think about it…”
Enough negativity…
Give it a positive slant…
I steer her face towards Cara. “You gave James one daughter. Perhaps you can help give him the
other one.”
Her breath shudders and, against the grip of my hand, she nods.
I release my hold on her face. “Yes?”
She nods again, more positively. “Yes… I've behaved badly, haven't I?”
“It's not been one of your finer moments, no.”
From behind, a small sound of movement: It’s Richard, watching in silence from the doorway.
“Did you hear that?” I ask.
“Every word.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think James deserves better than he’s been getting.”
Charlotte looks down, tying a lock of hair in knots.
“Just give the woman a chance,” I say. “Try to get to know her. That's all I'm asking. Perhaps it will work
out. Perhaps it won’t. But give James a fair chance to win his daughter back.”
“I will.”
*****
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