James
Charlotte’s here. Michael messaged me to say she’d arrived, so, despite dismal weather and a hairy drive up the mountain on icy roads, I’m smiling. I keep finding myself laughing for no reason….
…. No reason at all….
As I pull in, she’s there, waiting….
Outside? In this weather?
…. and I steer the car to one side so as not to splash her with the liquid mud that is taking over the site.
As I step out, she’s here and close to me. I embrace her, kissing her lightly, but am conscious of many pairs of eyes watching us: builders, plumbers, men operating the earth-movers and mini-diggers…. or trying to….
And my nose tells me a lot of what I want to know….
Michael’s already had her….
…. He’s a fast worker….
“Welcome home,” I say quietly to her. “Um, not too private here, are we?”
She glances around with an expression that clearly says they can all go jump….
I take her hand, noticing her icy fingers….
How long was she waiting outside?