Twenty - RichardWith a shiver of changing-room curtains, the three women emerge. Which is to say, my Elizabeth strolls out, Mitch sashays, Charlotte strides. Klempner and I rise to meet them.
Mitch and Elizabeth are wearing... not dissimilar... dresses. Both drape smoothly to mid-calf, cut from something silky in shades of deep jade. Elizabeth wears her copper-red hair up, demure, ladylike. Mitch"s drapes her shoulders. But sharing the same alabaster skin, each with the huge, exotically green eyes that are the mark of the Kimberley women, they look so similar.
Klempner stands beside me, legs astride, arms folded.
"We"re two lucky men, wouldn’t you say," I murmur. He clicks his tongue.
There are differences between the two. The age gap is almost meaningless. Mitch has looked after herse
