Charlotte
My Master and Michael get out of the car with me. Michael leans back against the vehicle, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankle. My Master paces up and down a little, then settles, watching as I approach the door.
There’s a light on at a downstairs window; movement inside, shapes silhouetted against lights.
Suddenly timid, I can’t summon up the will to move. My feet drag. My heart flutters and my lungs are tight.
Enough already…
Taking the knocker in one hand, I rap smartly on the door. It rat-tats, echoing through the space beyond.
What if she answers?
Will I recognise her?
Will she know who I am?
There’s a shuffle, the click of a turning lock, the clunk of a bolt being drawn back, then the door opens…
… to a man’s face. A young man, perhaps thirty. He’s good-looking
