‘Hmm,’ Kyle said again. Then he stacked the paintings together, a couple for each of them. Kyle manhandled his pile until he’d got a firm grip on them.
His friend was dwarfed by the canvases.
‘They’re a bit big,’ Kyle said. ‘Hasn’t he got anything smaller?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Charlie heaved his paintings up and wrapped his arms round them as best he could. They weighed a ton too. ‘I think they have to be big to be proper art.’
‘Oh.’
The boys made their way to the garage door.
‘If we sell these,’ Charlie wanted to know, ‘and we get fifty quid . . .’
‘Huh.’ His friend grunted underneath his load.
‘. . . what will we do with our twenty-five quid?’
‘Sometimes,’ Kyle said, ‘you’re a right spaz, Charlie Freeman.’ But he didn’t tell him any more than that.
Chapter Sixty-One
I’m just passing the Computer Centre – not that it has such a grand title, but I don’t know what else to call it – when Spencer’s coming out. My heart does a little flip and I hurry towards him.
‘Hello,’ he says, in surprise. ‘I’m just finishing for the day.’
It’s not my turn to be trained in the delights of word processing, so I hadn’t been due to see Spencer today. ‘Hiya.’ As I’m in the street, he has to make do with a peck on the cheek.
‘I did think about calling round for a cup of tea,’ he tells me.
‘Kettle’s always on in my place,’ I say. ‘Charlie’s on his way home.’ I think I see his smile falter a little at that, but I can’t be sure. ‘Fancy a quick one?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘I take it we’re still discussing tea?’
‘Come on,’ I say, linking his arm through mine. ‘You can tell me about your day and I’ll tell you my good news.’
Spencer casts a worried look at his newly shod Porsche. ‘Do you think the car will be safe here?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘If I were you I’d trade it in for a knackered old Ford Escort then you wouldn’t care so much.’
I tug him and with one anxious look behind him we head off to Bill Shankly House.
Making the tea, I say, ‘We got the money through for the regeneration project today.’ If I wasn’t holding the kettle, I’d clap my hands in glee again.
‘That’s great,’ Spencer says, but he doesn’t sound wildly enthusiastic.
‘What?’ I hand him his tea. ‘Why the glum face?’
‘It’s going to be even harder to see you, once this is up and running. We’ll never get away.’
‘It won’t be for long,’ I tell him. ‘A few weeks, maybe a bit longer.’
He looks suitably horrified at the thought.
‘And there’s nothing to stop you picking up a shovel and joining in. A couple who dig together stay together.’
Spencer’s frown relaxes into a smile. ‘Is that so?’
‘It’s an old Liverpool saying.’
‘I’m sure.’ His big baby blues lock onto mine. ‘Come to my place this weekend,’ he urges. ‘Before this all starts in earnest. Everyone’s going to be there. You’ll really enjoy it and my parents are dying to meet you.’
‘Your parents will be there?’ He wants me to meet his parents! This is the first time he’s mentioned that. Should I read anything significant into this?
Spencer shrugs. ‘It’s their house.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘And where will we stay? Is there room enough for all of us?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Spencer waves a hand dismissively. ‘There’s plenty of room.’
‘I don’t know if I can,’ I admit truthfully. No point stringing Spencer along.
‘I thought you said that Johnny would like to see more of Charlie.’
‘He would, but I can’t just spring this on him at short notice. He might have plans.’ Unlikely, but you never know. I can’t take it for granted that Johnny will drop everything to accommodate my every whim. Even though he normally does. Plus I’d quite like to spend the weekend with my kid myself, as it happens.
Spencer pulls me down onto his lap and kisses me. Then he lets out a long sigh. ‘I love you, Sally Freeman. Do you know that?’ He toys with my fingers. ‘I want to be in your life permanently, not just relegated to the periphery.’
‘I’d like that too, Spencer,’ I assure him. ‘I promise you, I’m working on it.’
‘I suppose tonight’s out of the question?’
‘You’re right,’ I tell him. ‘Big girls’ night tonight.’
‘Oh really?’
‘Mmm. We’ve got some woman coming to try and flog us cheap jewellery. It’s just an excuse for a bottle of plonk. Debs is coming round. Plus Mrs Kapur and Dora the Explorer.’ If Dora’s remembered. ‘Not that we’re going to be able to buy much as we’re all broke.’
‘Let me give you some cash.’ Spencer reaches for his wallet. ‘I’d like to treat you.’
‘No, no, no,’ I say. ‘You can’t do that.’ I push away the sheaf of ten-pound notes that he’s handing me. ‘I can’t take money from you. It would feel really funny.’
‘Let me,’ Spencer implores. ‘I want you to have a nice evening.’
Then I get a brainwave. ‘Let me treat Mrs Kapur and Dora. They have nothing. I’d love to be able to buy them something.’
He smiles at me lovingly. ‘I think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.’
‘I’m not,’ I say. ‘They do a lot for me. It would be nice to spoil them, even though it’s your money.’
‘Take it.’ Spencer folds the money into my palm, which still feels a bit odd. It’s clear that he could buy and sell me under the table a million times over, but that’s not why I want him.
‘Thank you.’ I give my lover a kiss. ‘You’re also very kind.’
‘I’d better go,’ Spencer says. ‘There’s a microwave dinner and some very interesting television waiting for me.’
‘Now you’re making me feel terrible!’
‘Good,’ Spencer says. ‘That means that you’re in my debt and you’ll have to come away with me at the weekend to repay me.’
‘I will think about it,’ I promise. ‘I can’t do any more than that.’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’
I give Spencer another kiss. ‘Yeah. Better find something for our tea too.’ Then I glance at the clock and wonder why Charlie isn’t home by now.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Kyle had phoned his big brother who’d told them which bus to get and where to catch it from. Charlie was getting worried; it was growing nearer and nearer to the time he should be home and still the bus hadn’t turned up. He was just on the point of telling Kyle that he couldn’t do this, when the bus arrived. They struggled on with their load.
‘Can’t bring those on my bus.’ The driver held up his hand.
Charlie felt his face fall.
‘It’s an urgent delivery for the Tate Liverpool,’ Kyle piped up in an important-sounding voice.
‘Yeah? And I’m Sir Paul McCartney,’ the driver said, but he took their money and let them on anyway.
It felt like an adventure riding on the bus into the centre of the city. Even Kyle shut up talking for once and just looked out of the window.
Now they were down at the Albert Dock, standing outside the Tate Liverpool just as Charlie had done with his mum and Spencer last weekend, and Charlie was feeling just as nervous.
‘What shall we say to them?’ he wanted to know.
Kyle chewed his lip, deep in thought. ‘We should ask to speak to the boss,’ he decided.
‘Okay,’ Charlie said. Then his mobile phone rang. His eyes widened in panic. ‘It’s my mum. What shall I tell her?’
‘Tell her that you’ve been unavoidably detained,’ Kyle advised.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ Kyle admitted. ‘But it’s what people say.’
Charlie answered the phone. ‘Hiya, Mum,’
he said, trying not to sound guilty. ‘I’m still at Kyle’s. His mum’s not come home from the Bingo yet, so I’m waiting with him. He doesn’t want to be on his own. Yeah.Won’t be long.’ He glanced nervously at Kyle. ‘Love you too, Mum.’
Kyle wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Charlie hung up.
‘Inspired,’ Kyle said. ‘Apart from the last bit.’
‘I have to say that, otherwise she gets funny.’
‘Come on, then.’Kyle set off, pushing his way into the entrance, wrestling the paintings through the revolving doors.
‘Mum says I have to be home in half an hour.’
‘We’d better get a move on, then.’
There was a lady with a uniform and blond hair behind a desk and they decided to start with her. The place seemed a lot bigger to Charlie, now that he wasn’t here with his mum. Kyle marched up to the desk and Charlie trailed in his wake.
‘We’d like to see the man in charge, please,’ Kyle said, and Charlie was relieved that his friend had been polite, because sometimes he wasn’t.
‘I’m afraid that our Chief Executive, Mr Stokes, isn’t available this afternoon.’
Oh. That was a blow. Now what?
‘Can anyone else help you?’ the lady asked. She was being very nice.
Kyle pushed Charlie forward. ‘We’ve brought these paintings for him to see,’ the boy explained when he found his voice. ‘I came here with my mum and her new boyfriend, Spencer. We went to see the modern Chinese art.’ He was sure that was right. ‘It was horrible.’
The lady seemed to smile at that. Perhaps she thought it was horrible too.
‘These are much better,’ Charlie explained as he pointed at the canvases. ‘My friend Johnny does them. In his garage. Well, he’s more like my dad really.’
‘And you wanted to show them to the Chief Executive.’
‘Yeah.’
‘We wouldn’t normally do this,’ she said kindly. ‘There are proper procedures.’
‘I wanted it to be a surprise,’ Charlie told her. ‘Johnny always says he’s going to do something with his paintings, but he never gets round to it.’
She gave one of those sighs that grown-ups often do. ‘You could leave them with me,’ she said. ‘Just this once, mind. I’ll make sure he looks at them.’
Charlie and Kyle exchanged a worried glance. If he couldn’t look at them now, then how were they going to put them straight back in the garage? What if Johnny noticed that they were missing?
‘When do you think he could do it?’
‘I’m afraid that I couldn’t really say. As I told you boys, this isn’t really our proper procedure.’
Kyle shrugged. ‘Okay then.’
‘Leave me a phone number.’ She pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards them. Charlie took the pen and in his best writing, he put down his mobile phone number.
‘And your friend’s details,’ the lady added.
So Charlie, very carefully, wrote out Johnny’s name and address and his age. He thought he’d better put Johnny’s phone number too in case he was at school when the man phoned and his mobile had to be turned off. He also wrote that he had a dog called Ringo.
‘Thank you,’ Charlie said, as he handed back the paper.
The lady came from behind the desk and took the paintings, but Charlie was disappointed when she didn’t even look at them.
‘You’ll be hearing from us,’ she said.
‘Can you tell us where to get the bus back to Kirberly, please, miss?’ Kyle said.
‘Just across the street.’ She pointed across the cobbled courtyard outside. ‘The numbers are on the shelter.’
And then, because there was nothing more they could do now, they left the art gallery.
Chapter Sixty-Three
‘I need a smoke after that,’ Kyle said, and he pulled the packet from his back pocket and lit one up for them to share.
‘We’d better get going,’ Charlie warned. ‘Or I’ll be killed.’
They both had a quick puff and then the two boys rushed off towards the bus stop. When they had it in their sights, they could see the bus already at the stop and they put on a spurt. As they did, they ran headlong into Spencer, who was coming round the corner, making him drop his car keys on the ground. Oh no! Charlie had completely forgotten that his mum’s new boyfriend lived round here in one of these posh flats. This wasn’t part of the plan.
‘Hey, hey,’ Spencer said, in his usual nursery-rhyme voice. ‘What are you doing down here?’ He was holding Charlie by both arms.
Charlie looked guiltily at the gallery behind him. ‘Nothing.’ Spencer followed his gaze, but remained silent. Then his eyes dropped to the cigarette.
‘That I can’t condone, Charlie.’
He dropped Kyle’s cigarette to the ground, much to his mate’s horror, and stubbed it out with his heel.
‘Does your mother know that you’re in the city on your own?’
‘Yeah,’ Kyle said loudly. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘This is my mum’s new boyfriend,’ Charlie whispered. ‘Shut up.’
Kyle’s jaws clamped together firmly.
Spencer fixed Charlie with a stern stare that seemed to bore into his mind. It was the very same look his mum always gave him when she knew he was telling lies.
‘Not really,’ Charlie admitted with a huff. ‘We were just getting the bus back. She said I’d got to be back in half an hour. I’m late. Are you going to tell her?’
His mum’s new boyfriend let go of him and crossed his arms. ‘What if I put you both in a taxi – and pay for it? That would get you home a lot quicker than the bus.’
Charlie’s eyes widened. A taxi instead of the bus? Why would Spencer be nice to him? Grown-ups were usually the first to tell tales in situations like this. Not that he’d been in many situations like this, but there were definitely more of them now that he was best friends with Kyle.
‘I’d take you in my car,’ Spencer threw in, ‘but there’s no room for the two of you.’
If his own eyes had widened, Kyle’s were out on stalks as he cast his gaze over Spencer’s gleaming Porsche. To be honest, Charlie was a bit disappointed himself that they couldn’t go in the flashy sports car. A taxi was good, but a Porsche, well . . .
‘What do you think?’ Spencer said. ‘Do you want me to call a taxi?’
Kyle nodded emphatically.
‘And you don’t want me to tell your mum that you were down here? Or tell her that I caught you smoking?’
Now it was Charlie’s turn to shake his head emphatically. He’d never be allowed to go out again in his entire life if his mum found out he was smoking – even though they were Kyle’s cigarettes.
‘Then I’d like you to do something for me.’ Charlie noted that the sing-song voice had gone, even though Spencer’s smile was still in place. ‘I’d like you to tell your mum that you’d really love to spend this weekend with Johnny.’
‘With Johnny?’
‘I want to take your mum to my house in the country and I know that she’s worried about leaving you behind. It would make her feel much better, if you said that’s what you wanted.’
Charlie would like to spend the weekend with Johnny. There wasn’t a problem there, as far as he could see. And Johnny would want to see him. He always did. They did cool stuff together. Sometimes stuff that his mum didn’t let him do. However, something didn’t feel quite right about this, although Charlie didn’t know what it was.
‘It’ll cost you,’ Kyle said bravely. ‘A taxi home. No splitting on us. And twenty quid each.’
Charlie was appalled.
Spencer laughed. Charlie hadn’t expected him to find it funny. ‘Your friend drives a hard bargain, Charlie.’
Without further comment, his mum’s new boyfriend got out his wallet and peeled off a twenty-pound note for each of them. Charlie felt funny putting it in his pocket.
‘Now I’ll get you that taxi.’ Spencer flicked open his mobile phon
e.
Minutes later, a cab pulled up by the kerb next to them. Spencer gave the driver some money and told him the address of Bill Shankly House. ‘Get him to stop round the corner,’ Spencer advised. ‘Then you won’t have to explain to your mum why you’re in a taxi.’
That seemed like a good idea.
‘Remember, Charlie,’ Spencer said, as he closed the door, ‘we’ve got a bargain. I hope you’ll keep your end of it.’
The taxi set off and Kyle turned round to stare out of the window, waving to Spencer as they headed back towards Kirberly.
‘What was he doing round here?’
‘He lives here,’ Charlie said glumly. ‘In one of these posh flats.’
‘He seems like a nice fella.’ Kyle craned his neck to get a last glimpse.
Charlie still wasn’t sure.
‘If your mum stops going out with him,’ Kyle said, ‘can I have him for my mum?’
Chapter Sixty-Four
The collection of costume jewellery is spread out on a velvet cloth on my table. There are some very pretty things and I’m trying hard not to lust after them.
Dora the Explorer has on a necklace of sea shells, worn fetchingly over her Marks & Sparks floral nightie, and is dancing round my living room, singing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’.
‘That looks sound, doll,’ Mrs Kapur tells her. My other neighbour is sporting a big, bling crucifix that’s covered in red diamanté and is more Madonna than elderly Indian lady, and she’s admiring herself in the hand mirror the jewellery lady, Kathy, has given to her.
‘So you’re off to Outerbumblefuck for the weekend with Little Lord Fauntleroy,’ Debs says from her windowledge perch as she drags deeply on her cigarette and blows the smoke out into the sky.
‘Looks like it,’ I say. ‘I don’t know what came over Charlie. He announced out of the blue that he’d like to see Johnny this weekend. I was stunned. I was so worried about leaving him behind, but it’s worked out really well for me. I can go away with Spencer – meet the parents . . .’We both grimace at that. ‘It’s good timing too, just before the project gets under way.’
‘Yeah, no more free weekends for you, Kirberly’s answer to Alan Titchmarsh.’
All You Need is Love Page 20