The Lover's Children

Chapter 78 – Solstice – Part 11

KLEMPNER

Cara tugs at my trouser leg. “Quack quacks.” This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“What?”

She points down the hill to where battalions of ducks work in squadrons to relieve picnickers of their

lunch. “Quack quacks, Gandy Kay.”

“Mitch, what’s she talking about?”

Mitch sets her knitting down. “Cara, you want to feed the ducks?”

She bursts into a smile, nodding. “Quack quacks.”

“Larry, why don’t you take Cara to feed the ducks. You can give them that leftover hot dog. Adam, do

you want to go too?”

“Sorry, what am I doing?”

Mitch adopts a trying my patience expression. “You’re taking Cara and Adam to feed the ducks.” She

stares up at me. Her head tilts. “Did you never feed the ducks as a little boy?”

“I don't think so.”

You little bastard.

Do as you're fucking told. Get inside.

The fist…

Da... No...

She looks away. “That was thoughtless of me. I'm sorry.”

I shrug it away. “Don't be. It's not as though I remember much of it.”

“You remember enough.” As though someone threw a switch, her voice turns cheerful. “Alright, Adam,

Cara. We’ll go and show Grandad K how to feed the ducks, shall we. I’ll just get everything packed up.”

Cara bounces up and down, clapping and yelling. Adam copies her. Mitch packs picnic, flask and

knitting into the back of the stroller with the efficiency of a sergeant ordering his squad to decamp. “You

take Vicky’s buggy will you.”

The source of the excitement is down by the river, an area cordoned off by a picket fence similar to the

play area. In theory, it’s a kids’ paddling pool. In practice, adults supervise gaggles of small children,

tossing bits of bread in the water, to be immediately assaulted by battalions of ducks.

Mitch produces the picnic leftovers, passes me a bread roll. “Tear that into small pieces for Cara.” A

woman close by gives me an odd look.

But Cara squawks with delight as I turn a perfectly good bread roll into crumbs, shove a handful into

her grubby hands and another handful into Adam’s. Bear groans protest as the fragments are tossed

into the water.

“Isn’t it dangerous having them so close to the water’s edge?”

Mitch sniffs, dismissively. “It’s only six inches deep. And that’s why we, as responsible adults, stand

over them.”

“So, remind me why we’re feeding ducks? They’re wild animals. Can’t they feed themselves?”

“It’s all part of the magic of childhood.” Mitch slides me a sidelong glance. “I realise you didn’t see a lot

of that, but there’s no reason you can’t enjoy it from the adult perspective now.” She nods towards the

excitedly squealing Cara. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy seeing your granddaughter enjoying herself so

much.”

“I’ll admit, it’s… charming.”

She looks away, but she’s smiling. Her hand slips into mine.

A squadron of ducks converges on Cara. She squeals and tosses her complete handful of bread at

them. Adam squawks, turns and runs, hugging up to Mitch, but Cara looks at me uncertainly.

“They can’t hurt you,” I say. “They’re only ducks. If they flap at you, flap back.”

They can’t hurt you, Sweetie… They’re only ducks…

…

…

“Larry?” Mitch’s voice penetrates. “Larry, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I… A memory just surfaced. I… did do this when I was small. My mother was with

me…

Brown eyes…

A mop of curly hair…

A smile…

Mitch’s face lights up. “Really? You’ve just remembered that?”

“Yes…” I haver, rubbing at the back of my head, trying to unearth more of the memory…

Abruptly, something splashes into the water. Ducks scatter and lift, raucous with protest and panic.

Cara yells a complaint. Mitch hunkers down, calming her and Adam. Other kids start bawling. Adults

mutter, looking around. Women stoop, picking up toddlers. Men turn and scan, searching for the source

of the disturbance.

The stone, if that’s what it was, seemed to come from a thicket of small trees a little way from the pool.

Still, nothing looks out of kilter now.

But my radar is twitching.

A bit of petty meanness.

A familiar pattern…

Is it the same one? Or just a coincidence?

Cara’s still wailing. Adam too. “Look…” Mitch points to a kiosk. “We’ll have an ice cream, shall we.” She

could have flicked a switch. The wails become yells of enthusiasm. Cara bounces up and down. Adam

follows her lead.

I fish some change from my pocket. “Here, get the ice cream with this. Are you okay here for a few

minutes?”

Mitch frowns. “Why? Where are you going?”

“Just to stretch my legs. I won't be long. You okay with that?”

She gives me a sunny smile. “I’m a big girl now. Sure, yes. Enjoy your walk.”

Parking Vicky by a handy bench, I saunter away from the pool, but as soon I’m away from Mitch’s line

of sight, I step out smartly, striding back up the hill to the gate.

Not going to lose you this time…

*****

How long is it since that stone was thrown?

Five minutes? Two?

I can’t have lost much time.

Where are you?

Striding out, I make for the main gate. There’s no guarantee he’s doing the same, but Hoodie went that

way before, the first time I saw him but I lost him in the chaos milling police, press and panicking

crowds. All the while I walk, I scan ahead…

There…

Just vanishing out of the park, a grey-hooded figure.

Is it him? The same one?

I step up another gear.

Don’t lose him in the crowds again…

This time though, I know for sure he’s gone through the gate. He’s somewhere out in the square.

I’m warm by the time I reach the square myself. Uncertain, I hover, eyes shaded against the sun as I

search for…

Gotcha!

Portrait of a man’s back, walking away from me.

Following, I try to pick out detail that might identify him. There’s annoyingly little to work with. Medium

build. Not short but, at most, medium height. Long-legged though in his everyday jeans. Sneakers. And

of course, a grey hoodie.

I’d give a lot for a look at his face.

Just on the off-chance, I snap at him with my phone camera. For what it’s worth.

What do I have?

Portrait of a man’s back.

Hoodie veers for a left and disappears around a corner. I break into a jog as he vanishes…

… and reach the corner just in time to see him, several hundred yards ahead, turn another corner.

Damn…

I step up my jog.

From a pocket, my mobile blarts out...

… And I shoot a hand to slap it onto mute…

… but by the time I catch up, the bastard’s vanished again.

Where the hell is he?

Wherever he is, it’s nowhere I can see.

What else is here?

Budget stores…

Cinema…

Petrol station…

Greasy-spoon cafe…

Neon sign… Sapphire Club! Exotic Dancers!

Catching my breath, I straighten my clothes and stroll across.

It’s early yet and everything’s shuttered down. A place like this probably doesn’t even open its door

until nine or ten. Just on the off-chance, I try the door, but it’s locked.

So, why would Hoodie bother to hang out here?

And that’s even assuming that my suspicions have any substance at all.

Aimless again, I wander to the next street turnoff. And the next. They’re all much the same. Cheap

housing. Cheaper apartments. Nothing that gives me any hint of where to go next.

Frustrated, I slam a fist at the nearest wall…

Fuck!

… then regret it as I skin my knuckles against dirty brickwork. Sucking at the slight seepage of blood,

waiting for inspiration to strike, I drift to the cafe.

On my second coffee top-up, I still have the feeling I’m missing something. Something important.

Something that’s staring me in the face.

*****

The feeling still gnaws at me as I park up and head for Mitch’s apartment.

What the fuck is it?

Something…

But as I touch the handle, the door opens ahead of me. Mitch stands there, legs planted wide, mouth

tight.

Crap…

“Mitch…”

“Where the hell have you been?” she demands.

“There was something…”

“You said you were going for a walk. Two hours I waited, thinking you'd come back.”

“You were alright. You had Bear...”

“And Vicky. And Cara. And Adam. And the stroller. And Vick’s buggy. And unfortunately…” She spits

the words… “… no car. Because you saw fit to take the keys with you. What the hell were you thinking,

Larry?”

Oh…

The obvious finally dawns on me. “How did you get home?”

“Now he asks. I called James. Richard sent Ross to collect me. And I might mention you owe Richard

the cost of a valet on his car. Bear took up the back seat and it’s covered in dog hair.”

“Mitch, I’m sorry. Look, let me explain inside.”

She sets fists on hips. “Inside? So, you want to come inside, do you? Now it’s convenient for you

again.”

I’m tired. My muscles ache. “Mitch, please. Let’s talk about it in the morning. I need to sleep.”

“The morning? Go to hell. We’ll talk about it now. Why did you abandon us like that?”

“I saw something. I needed to check it out.”

“And you couldn’t have called me? Let me know there was a problem?”

“I was preoccupied…”

“Preoccupied? You couldn’t answer your phone either?”

“I turned the sound off because…”

Crap…

Realising how it sounds, I let the words trail away.

Mitch droops her head, her chest rising and falling in a series of deep breaths. Then, face jerking up,

she swings, delivering an open-handed slap that makes my head ring and my eyes water.

I press my palm against the burn on my cheek. “Mitch, don't do that again.”

Her lips press flat and the hand swings again. But this time I snatch her wrist, mid-air, mid-strike, before

it connects. “I said, No. I’m sorry. What you say is right. I was wrong to do what I did without contacting

you. It was thoughtless of me. But I've apologised already, and it won't happen again.”

Her eyes slit. “Damn right it won’t happen again.” She wrenches free of my grip, turning away. “Don't

even think about getting into my bed tonight.” And the door slams in my face.