Chapter 10

Yelka Smallbridge:

It was obvious when I got back from Mason’s (without Vee, who decided she would be better occupied by staying with Kira and Mila) that something had happened. The tale about finding a man collapsed in a rented dinghy – yes, I didn’t doubt it happened – was not at the heart of it. A call on the sat-phone was a confirmation of the first matter, thanking Lena and Matches for saving the man’s life; he was in CCU in Barrow-in-Furness, and would probably make a full recovery.

“Yelka...” Matches’ voice behind me after supper. I think I’d been in what’s called a ‘brown study’ since getting back from Mason’s. I pulled out of it.

“Yeah?”

“A word with you and your sister? Privately?”

“Sure. Our bedroom?”

“That’ll do.”

We trooped upstairs to Lena’s and my room, where she perched on her bed and looked at me with a worried expression. I cleared that with a wink, then stared at Matches. “Sit!” I ordered, pointing to the bed, the place next to Lena. I grabbed a chair from the dressing table and sat facing them. “Do you love my sister?” I demanded.

He took a deep breath, but shut his mouth and didn’t make a sound.

“Well?”

“Yes.” His head dropped so he was no longer looking at me.

“Sis?” I grinned at Lena. “What do you think?”

“I agree with you. He’s perfect.” However, she punched his bicep. “Don’t go getting a swelled head, you.”

He actually flinched, and rubbed the place her fist landed. My sister is no weakling. He looked up, and met my eyes. “You asked the wrong sister, Matches. I only want my sister happy, and much as I enjoy sleeping with you, I don’t want or need a husband. Well?”

His eyes took a penetrating stare. I just smiled. He took another deep breath. “Um. Lena, I, will you marry me? Be my wife? Bear my children?”

Lena glanced at me, grinning. “Matches, I don’t want to leave here. If you’re willing to marry me and live here with me, the answer is yes... Of course, I know you have to travel for work, and that’s fine, as long as you come back to me here when you can.”

“Will that make you happy?” This time he was looking deeply into Lena’s eyes.

“Very happy. There’s just one thing, Matches.”

“Yeah?”

“My sister and I always share everything. If you marry me, you’ll be working alongside Yelka when you’re not here or travelling. Perhaps you’ll travel with her. So you – with my permission and approval – will keep my sister happy as well as me.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “But...”

“Two for the price of one, Matches.” She cocked her head, eyebrow raised, looking at him.

He sighed, and looked at me. “It’s Lena’s choice, Matches. I wouldn’t have expected it, exactly, but if she’s happy ... It makes sense, you know, even if it’s not ... conventional.”

“Okay.”

We trooped back downstairs to listen to Sofia and have a beer apiece.

Matches Bryant:

My ... word. What am I caught up in, here? And both girls were so ... straight-forward, unequivocal. Two girls? And one wants to marry me? Wants babies? I followed them downstairs and indicated to Jerry that I needed to speak to him.

He just raised his eyebrows, stood, and led the way to his office. He waved at a chair, then when I sat, sat with me, his chair turned away from the desk so he faced me without the desk in the way. I explained what had just transpired, hoping he wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

He didn’t. He did smile slightly and nod. We were silent for a few moments.

“You’ll have gathered this is an unusual household,” he began. “I mean, my wife tends to walk around nude, with a collar round her neck. I have five teen girls living here, clearly not native English, and a firing range in the ‘back garden’. Yelka learned her skills from my wife, believe it or not. Because of how Sally is, I’ve found myself in some very odd situations. So, these days, I’m not about to get upset because two girls – of whom I am very fond – have both fixed on one man. Especially since that one man is someone I can respect and trust. You’re going to marry one of them, and that’s fine. That one wants to keep living here, and that, too, is fine. This will become your home as well, at least when you are not elsewhere because of your career. So ... relax. You have been assimilated.”

It took a moment for me to ‘assimilate’ his words, then I laughed. “Only in the best possible way.” I sighed in relief, and went on, “I believe you wanted to talk about tuning your weapons, at least the more recent acquisitions?”

“Yes, I did. And Sally and the girls will be interested, too. But Junior and Diana will need supervision, so we’ll split your lesson, if that’s okay?”

“Sure thing. I really enjoy my speciality, and talking about it. Yourself, Lena and Sally? Yelka can get a course at The Lodge.”

“Makes sense.”

Jerry Smallbridge:

Was I too easy on Matches? I don’t think so. I wanted Yelka and Lena to have a life of their own. When Yelka headed off to The Lodge to join the company, I worried, of course, but I understood her motivation, and approved of her goal. When she turned up with Ron Bryant – Matches – I was pleased she’d found someone who seemed ‘good’. I was unsurprised that she turned down his proposal and when she and Lena came up with something unconventional. Of course our whole family situation is unconventional. But I could see the logic in it. Both girls were, as Yelka put it, ‘healed’. Yelka kept her career, and Lena, the homebody, the nurturer, got a caring and responsible partner, as well as, probably, the children she longed for. If something happened, and Matches failed to return from an assignment, Lena would have us to fall back on, and while he was away, she had the comfort of her family.

That evening, as Sofia played – she’d been going through our records selection as well as YouTube – I watched, Sally in her customary place kneeling next to my leg – as Matches sat, one twin each side of him, listening. Scott Joplin, Gershwin, segueing into Debussy, Pärt, and Satie. Daria and Yana returned from putting Junior and Diana to bed. I half expected Yelka and Lena both to follow Matches upstairs when he decided to head for bed, but that didn’t happen. Yelka stayed, and came to sit with me. She was quiet, more than usually so.

“You okay, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will be. It was tempting to go with them, but I decided to let my sister have him while we’re here.”

“It’s unconventional, but I think it’ll work.”

“Yeah. I hope so, anyway. This way,” she paused and sighed, “I couldn’t marry him. I have no desire to be a mother, but Lena does.”

“Sally and I were happy that you seemed to find someone to be with...”

“It was,” she hesitated, but went on, “a relief to find I, that is we, were not broken. But it would have been unfair of me to marry Matches, since I just don’t love him that way. Lena is much better for him.”

Next morning, Lena and Matches were the last in to breakfast, and they were very close together. Once they were settled at the table, he looked at me.

“Got anything planned for today, Jerry? Or would you like for me to look at your gunsmith tools?”

“Sounds good to me. Sally? Lena? Girls?”

Lena spoke up first. “You go, Mama Sally. I’ll stay and get something ready for lunch. I think I need to bake, don’t I?”

“Don’t you mind, Lena?”

“No. I’m sure I can get lessons in the future, yes, Matches?”

“Surely, darling girl.”

“What about you, girls?”

The three other girls huddled together, until Sofia spoke up. “There’s something I want to work on. Daria and Yana want to help Lena.” She glanced round and the others were nodding.

“Let me tidy up,” Sally said.

“No, Mama. We’ll tidy up. You go with Papa and Matches.”

Thus it was. Sally and I walked with Matches up to the range, which I unlocked and ushered the others in. Lights and ventilation came on and I followed them. At the back was a bench. I was familiar with that and the drawer containing cleaning materials. Under that drawer was one which I had never investigated, to my present chagrin. It was locked, but the small key was found at the back of the cleaning drawer.

The key turned easily, the drawer slid open, and there was a range of unfamiliar tools, some in a case, others loose. Matches lifted the case out and pointed at various items. He laid a soft cloth on the bench. “May I have one of your older weapons?”

I shrugged, opened the gun safe, and fetched out the old SMLE.

He smiled. “Lee-Enfield. Classic weapon. Let’s see...” He broke it down, talking all the while, neatly laying out the parts on the cloth. He then pointed out areas where the weapon had been ‘tuned’ as he put it. “The old guy clearly relied on this weapon,” he commented, “and did a lot of work to make it just how he wanted. I suspect if we do the same with the Mannlicher we’ll find similar traces.” He carefully lubricated the SMLE and reassembled it. “Let’s look at one of the new ones, shall we?”

I glanced at Sally. She moved, and a Glock appeared in her hand. I’ll never tire of seeing that sleight-of-hand. Matches just raised an eyebrow. He accepted the weapon, dropped the magazine on the cloth, ejected the round in the chamber, and dismantled the gun. He then pointed out the areas where the weapon could be ‘improved’. “It’s a fine weapon as is,” he acknowledged, “but the action can be smoothed...” he went on for a while, demonstrating, “perhaps some tritium sights would be useful in the future, too.”

The morning passed in a flash, seemingly. When we got back to the house, it was to the smell of fresh-baked bread and homemade quiche. Lena smiled at us. “We’re invited to Mason’s tonight for supper. Mrs Braithwaite is cooking a turkey. Plenty for everyone, she says. I agreed for us all.”

Sally frowned. “I’ll ring her and ask if we can bring something...”

Lena laughed. “She said you’d say that. She said she’d welcome your apple pie, if you’re baking.”

Yelka again: