Coming Back Home
Forgetting it all ever happened.
Paris, France.
He sat there quietly, the television on, his maid was cooking dinner behind him. He paid little attention to her. Lyndon Kaller had never been sure when it came to women whether or not to pay them attention. Worrying if they would get to know a little too much about him. Things he didn't want them knowing. He risked a glance at her, she spotted it and smiled. "Mr Kaller, my husband. He been asking when I next get a pay rise. Said I ask you."
He smiled, her French accent had on more than one occasion attracted him to her. He liked Paris, wished that he had spent much more of his life here. Even in the days he had worked. "Ms Dubois, I promised you a pay rise at Christmas, you are aware I'm a man of my word."
"Oh indeed I am sir, but my husband see. He says we divorce if no pay rise."
"Then let me fetch my cheque book." He stood and left for his bedroom, a room only he had been in since he had owned the apartment, pulling out his cheque book from his coat pocket writing a cheque for 10,000 euros signing it and taking it back to the kitchen. "Ms Dubois I take it that ten thousand will be do till Christmas?"
"That will be-" she was interupted as the doorbell rung "Should I get sir?"
He didn't reply walked to the door opening it. The breath cught in his throat as he looked at the woman in front of him.
"Hello Lyndon."
He couldn't speak for a few moments, he just stood there looking at her - trying to work out how the hell she had found him. He had tried so hard. When he was finally able to speak he invited her in closing the door looking around the kitchen door "Ms Dubois, your dismissed early, go and spend time with your husband.I will finish the cooking."
She didn't argue only turned off the cooker and left the apartment putting her coat over her shoulders, a smile at the woman standing in the hall. Lyndon closed the door and looked at his guest. "This better be damn good."
"Isn't it always when you see me Lyndon?"
"Like when you tried to kill me? Oh wasn't that the best time?" His tone was showing unhappiness for her being there, not to mention the hatred he had for her.
She smiled almost giddily at him "Yes. It was. Though I'm sure you of all people would be aware that it was nothing personal."
He didnt comment, only sighed and entered the living room sitting in his favourite chair. She followed not taking a seat, waiting to be invited to sit knowing that she was in for a long wait. "Lyndon I dont expect you to forgive what I did. But I had no choice, if it helps, you're the only survivor I've had."
"Ouch."
"Pardon?"
"I was just thinking of how much that must hurt your pride."
"Will you not invite me to sit so we can discuss this?"
"Do as you wish. I'm surprised you had to ask." She sat daintily, arranging her skirt neatly. He closed his eyes remembering the first time he had seen her do that. His thoughts, how nice she'd looked, how close they'd ended up getting. How stupid he'd been to break his one rule. "So tell me.."
"You need to come back."
"No. That is not an option."
"Oh please, for what reason other than your pride?"
"My father! For my father, that's the reason I cant go back and you know it."
"Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought."
He scoffed and rose. "I think you should leave."
"Your father needs you. he sent me to get you." Lyndon stopped dead and looked back.
"Why?"
"He'll explain only if you'll go."
"Will you be with me?"
"You know I work for him... I have to be."
He thought foe a moment shaking his head. "I must be an idiot... But fine. Let him know, I'm working alone."
"I would but he wont allow that, for obvious reasons. You've been out of the game for two years, and the last time he saw you, you were in a hospital bed and you told him you wanted out. You cant just say you want to work solo."
"Then the deals off."
"I'll see what I can do." She left the room making a phone call on her cell phone and he sat back watching the television. He sat thinking about what had happened the last time he had seen her. How he'd gone to her apartment, how she'd made him trust her, made him drop his defenses and then he remembered the pain, the pain that haunted him every night. It was clear, the sound of the smashing glass, the sound of the engine and then the cracking of his bones. He remembered the look of horror on the faces of bystanders and most of all he remembered feeling utterly helpless. He opened his eyes remembering how much he hated her as she entered the room.
"Spoken to dear daddy. Its a no can do situation sweetie. Sorry." She tried to look sweet.
"Did you really speak to him?"
"Of course not!" She stepped closer her deadly silver heels tapping on the wooden floor, she stroked a finger down his cheek slapping gently "Give up control of this darling face? Never."
He rolled his eyes getting out of the chair limping slightly, she watched. "How do you intend to go solo with that walk anyway?"
He ignored her walking to the kitchen pouring a large glass of whiskey, she watched as he drank the amber liquid down in one. "Its a shame really, You never used to do that." She stood, legs slightly apart and put a theatrical hand to her head "Alas! He has been corrupted! There is no man I cannot corrupt! How shall I ever live with the boredom of knowing that?" She ducked quick;y as he threw the glass toward her head. "Touche! But nice aim, I see that hasn't changed Mr Moodypants. You've not lost your touch since going all soft and squishy round the edges."
"I will kill you."
"More like it. Now go pack. Hurry up about it too. I can't wait all day. Theres a wonderful shoe sale going on down the road. You're going to be a gentleman and buy me some. If the store happens to close whilst you're limping around I will not be a happy bunny, I'm sure I can find a lovely train to put you under if I don't get my own way."
"You cant always get what you want."
"No dear, you are referring to everyone else on earth." She pulled out a small dagger cleaning the blade on his shirt collar "I always get what I want. You know why sweetie? Because I will take your credit card." She stepped back holding up his wallet. "I'll see you at the store."
She left the flat, a small skip in her walk. He rubbed his throat gently. Somehow he knew she was being deadly serious.
He sat there quietly, the television on, his maid was cooking dinner behind him. He paid little attention to her. Lyndon Kaller had never been sure when it came to women whether or not to pay them attention. Worrying if they would get to know a little too much about him. Things he didn't want them knowing. He risked a glance at her, she spotted it and smiled. "Mr Kaller, my husband. He been asking when I next get a pay rise. Said I ask you."
He smiled, her French accent had on more than one occasion attracted him to her. He liked Paris, wished that he had spent much more of his life here. Even in the days he had worked. "Ms Dubois, I promised you a pay rise at Christmas, you are aware I'm a man of my word."
"Oh indeed I am sir, but my husband see. He says we divorce if no pay rise."
"Then let me fetch my cheque book." He stood and left for his bedroom, a room only he had been in since he had owned the apartment, pulling out his cheque book from his coat pocket writing a cheque for 10,000 euros signing it and taking it back to the kitchen. "Ms Dubois I take it that ten thousand will be do till Christmas?"
"That will be-" she was interupted as the doorbell rung "Should I get sir?"
He didn't reply walked to the door opening it. The breath cught in his throat as he looked at the woman in front of him.
"Hello Lyndon."
He couldn't speak for a few moments, he just stood there looking at her - trying to work out how the hell she had found him. He had tried so hard. When he was finally able to speak he invited her in closing the door looking around the kitchen door "Ms Dubois, your dismissed early, go and spend time with your husband.I will finish the cooking."
She didn't argue only turned off the cooker and left the apartment putting her coat over her shoulders, a smile at the woman standing in the hall. Lyndon closed the door and looked at his guest. "This better be damn good."
"Isn't it always when you see me Lyndon?"
"Like when you tried to kill me? Oh wasn't that the best time?" His tone was showing unhappiness for her being there, not to mention the hatred he had for her.
She smiled almost giddily at him "Yes. It was. Though I'm sure you of all people would be aware that it was nothing personal."
He didnt comment, only sighed and entered the living room sitting in his favourite chair. She followed not taking a seat, waiting to be invited to sit knowing that she was in for a long wait. "Lyndon I dont expect you to forgive what I did. But I had no choice, if it helps, you're the only survivor I've had."
"Ouch."
"Pardon?"
"I was just thinking of how much that must hurt your pride."
"Will you not invite me to sit so we can discuss this?"
"Do as you wish. I'm surprised you had to ask." She sat daintily, arranging her skirt neatly. He closed his eyes remembering the first time he had seen her do that. His thoughts, how nice she'd looked, how close they'd ended up getting. How stupid he'd been to break his one rule. "So tell me.."
"You need to come back."
"No. That is not an option."
"Oh please, for what reason other than your pride?"
"My father! For my father, that's the reason I cant go back and you know it."
"Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought."
He scoffed and rose. "I think you should leave."
"Your father needs you. he sent me to get you." Lyndon stopped dead and looked back.
"Why?"
"He'll explain only if you'll go."
"Will you be with me?"
"You know I work for him... I have to be."
He thought foe a moment shaking his head. "I must be an idiot... But fine. Let him know, I'm working alone."
"I would but he wont allow that, for obvious reasons. You've been out of the game for two years, and the last time he saw you, you were in a hospital bed and you told him you wanted out. You cant just say you want to work solo."
"Then the deals off."
"I'll see what I can do." She left the room making a phone call on her cell phone and he sat back watching the television. He sat thinking about what had happened the last time he had seen her. How he'd gone to her apartment, how she'd made him trust her, made him drop his defenses and then he remembered the pain, the pain that haunted him every night. It was clear, the sound of the smashing glass, the sound of the engine and then the cracking of his bones. He remembered the look of horror on the faces of bystanders and most of all he remembered feeling utterly helpless. He opened his eyes remembering how much he hated her as she entered the room.
"Spoken to dear daddy. Its a no can do situation sweetie. Sorry." She tried to look sweet.
"Did you really speak to him?"
"Of course not!" She stepped closer her deadly silver heels tapping on the wooden floor, she stroked a finger down his cheek slapping gently "Give up control of this darling face? Never."
He rolled his eyes getting out of the chair limping slightly, she watched. "How do you intend to go solo with that walk anyway?"
He ignored her walking to the kitchen pouring a large glass of whiskey, she watched as he drank the amber liquid down in one. "Its a shame really, You never used to do that." She stood, legs slightly apart and put a theatrical hand to her head "Alas! He has been corrupted! There is no man I cannot corrupt! How shall I ever live with the boredom of knowing that?" She ducked quick;y as he threw the glass toward her head. "Touche! But nice aim, I see that hasn't changed Mr Moodypants. You've not lost your touch since going all soft and squishy round the edges."
"I will kill you."
"More like it. Now go pack. Hurry up about it too. I can't wait all day. Theres a wonderful shoe sale going on down the road. You're going to be a gentleman and buy me some. If the store happens to close whilst you're limping around I will not be a happy bunny, I'm sure I can find a lovely train to put you under if I don't get my own way."
"You cant always get what you want."
"No dear, you are referring to everyone else on earth." She pulled out a small dagger cleaning the blade on his shirt collar "I always get what I want. You know why sweetie? Because I will take your credit card." She stepped back holding up his wallet. "I'll see you at the store."
She left the flat, a small skip in her walk. He rubbed his throat gently. Somehow he knew she was being deadly serious.