Chapter 18
*****
Ten minutes later, up to our chests in warm water and foam, I fill the flutes, passing them across.
“’Scuse me a mo,” says Charlotte, then slides under the surface. She rises again a few seconds later, snorting bubbles.
“How do you feel now?” I ask.
James tips his glass to me, smiling, but he doesn’t speak. Then, his lids drooping, he looks away.
*****
Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
I step out, feeling bright. Everything is going perfectly.
Bech’s done well...
Nothing like a little competition to get the prices up
Another shipment like that and I can open the east wing at Blessingmoors...
So Yakovlevski wants a mix...
A couple of leggy Russian types ought to fit in well...
Back to Helsinki...
But first I want to see the apartment. Keys jingling in my pocket, I head out.
Will she like it?
But as the lock turns smoothly and the door clicks open, my doubts settle.
What's not to like?
The space is bright and airy, morning sunshine spilling through panes and onto, as I requested, new flooring and walls painted in
cool neutral colours.
Much better than what she has...
And she can soon put her own stamp on it...
The carpets are deep and thick. Nonetheless, my footsteps echo in the empty rooms.
To furnish or not to furnish...?
Let her choose from the start?
Or furnish first then she can change it to suit herself?
Do it in the style she already has?
Not easy...
No.
I dismiss that idea, then hover in the larger of the bedrooms. The window overlooks the harbour, the better part with the marina,
small shops selling souvenirs and knick-knacks and bars that play host to students and ‘artisty’ types.
She’ll like that...
Wonder if she’d like to run a shop?
... Sell her own work?
She’s artistic...
... and talented... Easily good enough...
Don’t get distracted.
Like the rest of the apartment, the room is yet unfurnished.
How to play this...?
Bookshelves...
Definitely.
Double bed...?
It occurs to me that I have never seen her bedroom...
She doesn’t take her clients home...
Maybe she has a single?
I reach a decision and head out for one of the large local furniture stores.
*****
Her phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Mitch, it’s Larry. I was wondering, are you free this afternoon?”
“Sure. Meet you at the hotel?”
“No, not today. I want to show you something. I’ll send a cab for you.”
“That’s great. What time?”
“About two?”
“I’ll see you then.”
*****
The bell hums and I cease from where my pacing is wearing a track in the carpet. I turn down the music a trifle, then open the
door.
And she’s there, smiling and lovely, in the fur-lined boots and gloves I bought her in Finland, enfolded in a huge woollen shawl
and with a scarf covering half her face. Poking out from under the shawl is one of the designer carrier bags she always has.
“You must be freezing. Come into the warm. Here, let me take your wrap.”
“Funny isn’t it,” she says. “It’s nothing like so cold as Helsinki if you read the thermometer, but that damp breeze...” She shivers.
“Hope you don’t mind...” She looks sheepish as she slips off the boots and fishes low-heeled court shoes from her bag. In a
shade of teal-green which matches the dress she wears and the emeralds at her throat.
As I take her wrap, she offers the bag. “Housewarming present.”
“Thank you. Come sit by the fire. What would you like to drink? Something hot first? Chocolate?”
“Lovely.”
The mug cradled in both hands as she perches on a stool by the flames, she looks around. “Have you moved in yet?”
I prevaricate. “It’s all new. Waiting to have the owner’s stamp on it. On which subject, let's see this housewarming gift.”
It’s large and bulky, enveloped in a towel and even before I unwrap it, fairly obviously a painting.
And as the cloth falls away, I see it is...
... extraordinary...
“Mitch, this is one of yours, isn’t it? I recognise your style from that mural in your apartment.”
“Yes, I painted it.” She moves around to look at it with me. “You like it?”
“I do, yes. Very much.”
“You gave me Helsinki Harbour at sunset. I painted it to give it back to you.”
How the hell does she do it?
She’s captured the colours, the flavour, the sheer fairyland atmosphere of the subject; with its rainbow sky and the multi-hued
sea ice. But more than that, as I move to see the painting from this way and that, the waters move...
When was the last time anyone gave me a gift?
“You’re a fine painter, Mitch. I’ll give it pride of place. Thank you.” I peck her on the cheek. “Want a look around?” I point to the
window. “See the view?”
She moves smoothly, the silk of her dress rustling as she walks, sliding over her curves. At the window, “Oh!” She puts the mug
down on the sill, resting on the heels of her hands as she leans forward, craning. “Oh, that’s gorgeous. What a perfect setting.”
“Isn’t it. I thought you would like it.” She watches a yacht motor in between the harbour walls. “Want to see the rest?”
“Sure,” she chuckles. “Gotta give you the chance to show off your new pad, haven’t I.”
“The kitchen’s through here...”
She clicks her tongue. “Not what I thought you would have chosen for your bachelor pad. I had you down for a more obviously
masculine style.”
“Neutral’s always good. Anyone can make what they want of it then. Come see the bathroom.”
She steps inside, then stops and twists, chuckling. “Do I detect an agenda?”
“I always think a bath big enough for two is a good idea. Don’t you?”
Her eyes twinkle. “The shower too? Methinks the man doth protest too much.”
“And this...” I lead her with a gesture... “... is the guest bedroom.”
“Mmmm,” she nods. “A good idea having twin beds. Keeps it flexible.”
“The master bedroom is through here.” Her eyes rise to mine as I hold the door open for her, but she enters.
“Oh, that’s lovely, isn’t it.” She sits on the wide sill, the curved seat of the window which again overlooks the harbour. “If this was
mine, I don’t think I’d ever move from this spot.” She glances around. “It’s a shame there’s no fireplace in here. I’d have been
tempted to make this the main lounge.” She stands, surveying the wall. “Is that a chimney behind the plaster?”
“Yes, it is. And I could easily have it opened up if that’s what you would like.”
She laughs, sweeping her long hair back over her head. “Listen to me. Redesigning your new home for you.”
“That’s fine. I wanted to hear what you thought... Are you hungry?”
“I could eat something, yes.”
“Dining room or sitting by the fire?”
“There’s a dining room?”
“Sorry, yes. This way.”
She looks too and fro across the room. “Not so nice a space as the other rooms is it. Facing away from the sun.”
“True. I had it set out as a dining room, but I thought it might make a good study, or maybe an artist’s studio, with the north-facing
light.”
Will she take the hint?
She sucks at her lips. "I’d agree with you there. Unless you want to do a lot of entertaining..."
Apparently not...
“We’ll eat by the fire, I think. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll fetch it in. Wine?” I nod her towards the stereo. “And why don’t you
put on some music.”
*****