It was a horrible, terrifying moment. Andrew was trying to push past her, the man in front of her was staring at her lecherously. The rest of the group had got to their feet, their tough-looking faces menacing.
Meg appeared, quickly followed by Beth. ‘Oh, don’t be such a party pooper,’ she said, smirking at Andrew’s nakedness. ‘Get your clothes on and come and join us.’
‘We don’t want to,’ Charlie said angrily. ‘Please make them go, Meg.’
The record came to an end, and as if prompted by the sudden silence Andrew forced his way past her. ‘Out, all of you,’ he said in the same firm voice he used in the pub. He’d put his jeans on, but his chest was still bare. He’d obviously sized up the problem and decided to try to tackle it without force. ‘You’ve all had a lot to drink and I don’t want it to turn nasty with three women around.’ He glared at Meg and Beth. ‘And if you two have got any sense you’ll encourage them to go quietly before your flat gets ruined.’
The man who’d burst into the room backed off. He was very drunk, hardly able to stand, but his place was taken by one of the biggest men in the group, who looked distinctly threatening. ‘You reckon you could throw us out?’ he said derisively. ‘You cunt, I could knock you over with one hand tied behind my back.’
Charlie held her breath, rooted to the spot with fear. She sensed men of their kind would think nothing of beating Andrew to a pulp, just for sport.
But to her surprise Andrew kept a steady gaze, showing absolutely no fear. ‘I don’t advise you to try. You see, I have a Black Belt in karate.’
Charlie gulped. She was certain he’d have told her if he really was a karate expert. But if he was bluffing, he was very convincing.
There was a palpable and dangerous current flowing between the big man and Andrew. In the utter silence Charlie could almost hear the bigger man’s thoughts as he sized up his opponent. It would only take one of the others to step forward and all hell would break loose.
It was Beth who broke the deadlock. She pushed in between the two men, shoving the bigger one in the chest. ‘That’s it, go!’ she yelled. ‘I’m not getting my place smashed up. Go now or I’ll ring the Old Bill.’
The men moved away slowly and reluctantly, watching Andrew for any sign of weakness, as if ready to come back and hammer him. But finally they were all out the door, the last one slamming it behind him, and they heard their feet clonking down the stairs.
Meg spoke first, turning to Andrew. ‘Well, aren’t you the big man!’ she said sarcastically. ‘What right have you got to order people out of my flat?’
‘Those men were animals,’ he said quietly, crossing over to the window to check the men really had gone. ‘If that’s the sort you want to consort with, fine. But they came into Charlie’s room, looking for her. If I hadn’t been there, heaven only knows what might have happened.’
Beth looked crestfallen. ‘Andrew’s right.’ She tugged at Meg’s arm. ‘They were all well out of line. It’s a very good job he was here.’
Andrew drew Charlie back into the bedroom and closed the door. She got back into bed and waited for him to join her. ‘Are you really a Black Belt?’ she asked in a small voice. She was trembling with shock now it was all over.
‘No, of course not,’ he admitted, his voice a little quavery. ‘I had a few lessons, that’s all. But I reckon I must have the right mental attitude, sometimes I even believe I could smash a couple of bricks with one blow when I psyche myself up.’
‘But what if they’d laid into you?’
‘I’d be a bit of a mess now,’ he grinned. ‘What worries me more is that stupid Meg. What was she thinking of bringing a mob like that in here?’
Charlie didn’t answer. She had seen the wolfish looks on those men’s faces and even if she was relatively innocent still, she knew they hadn’t come here for just another drink. She thought Andrew was the bravest man in the world.
After that Saturday night, Meg apologized. She said she was so drunk she hadn’t thought where the evening might end. Beth confided in Charlie that she’d laid down a few ground-rules herself the next day because those men were looking for a ‘gang-bang’, and if Andrew hadn’t intervened, she might have been forced into it too.
Shocking as Charlie found this, as Meg seemed far more cautious who she brought into the flat after that, and Charlie was so happy in herself, she put the incident aside. With support from Anne, she often instigated mid-week all-girl nights out on warm summer evenings. Sometimes it was a swim in the open-air pool in nearby Crouch End, other times a Highgate pub with a garden, followed by fish and chips on the way home. Some Saturday mornings Beth and Meg took Charlie along with them to Portobello Road Market to pick through the antique clothes, and they never minded when she rushed off at two to meet Andrew.
She got into the habit of cooking a roast dinner for all of them on Sundays when Andrew worked. He would join them when he’d finished, always bringing a couple of bottles of cheap wine, and if he and Charlie disappeared into the bedroom later, the girls just laughed and teased them about being in love.
It was love too, growing deeper and stronger as the weeks went past. There never seemed enough time to spend together, often Andrew would collect her from work just so they could squeeze in an extra couple of hours. Charlie found she could hardly remember what it was like to be lonely, or isolated.
Even work at Haagman’s was fun. All the staff had become friends, but Rita was the most important. She formed a very special relationship with this older woman – friend, but mother figure too. She could talk about anything and everything to her – the girls in the flat, her hopes for the future with Andrew, and her past. Rita was unique in that she was far more interested in others than herself, and she drew out confidences. Even though she was so much older and more worldly than Charlie, she wasn’t judgemental. In fact when Charlie finally did tell her the full story about her parents she felt her friend related to it on every level, particularly Sylvia’s suicide. They often went for a pizza or a hamburger after work, and it was then that Charlie discovered by chance that Rita had some knowledge of Soho nightlife. Disappointingly she didn’t seem to want to discuss it in any depth, but maybe this was just because she was so much older and didn’t want to encourage her younger friend’s interest in such a seedy place.
They had celebrated Charlie’s A-level results in a Chinese restaurant in China Town. To her delight she had ’A’s in both English and geography, ‘B+’ in maths and science. Rita said that night that she must stop drifting now and think seriously about a career. Charlie had just laughed and called Rita a ‘mother hen’. She knew in her heart that her friend was right, but her mind didn’t seem to function beyond Andrew, or the holiday they’d planned in Salcombe for September.
It was the thought of that holiday which kept her smiling as she pushed her way into the packed rush-hour tubes during August. When the temperature at Haagman’s rose to the nineties and sweat poured off her, she imagined paddling together at Slapton Sands, walking along the cliff top with Minnie, or taking the helm of the MaryAnn as Ivor and Andrew fished for mackerel.
Andrew was going to leave Jack Straw’s Castle then, leave his belongings at her flat, then, after the holiday, sort out getting a house to share with her and his friends for when his new term started in early October. A career could wait. Her love affair with Andrew was the most important thing in her life.
Chapter Twelve
The bus from Kingsbridge on the Friday afternoon was packed solid with holidaymakers for the August Bank Holiday weekend, and swelteringly hot, but as it pulled into the stop at Salcombe and Charlie saw Ivor waiting there to meet her, with Minnie lying at his feet, the weariness she’d felt on the long journey down from London left her.
She was alone. Andrew couldn’t get any time off from the pub as it was their busiest weekend of the year, but the sadness she’d felt at going away without him was tempered by the knowledge he had only two more weeks before he left his job there fo
r good and they would be down for their real holiday together.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ Charlie shrieked as she hurtled off the bus and into Ivor’s outstretched arms. ‘I never knew a train take so long. I had my head out the window for the last few miles, taking in lungfuls of the lovely clean air. You can’t imagine how excited I am.’
Ivor looked exactly the way he had the very first time she saw him. The same baggy shorts and faded shirt, plimsolls on his feet, hair and beard as fiery and untidy as ever.
‘I can see,’ he laughed, detaching himself from her so he could look at her beaming, flushed face. ‘You look like Minnie!’
Charlie looked down at his dog. She had moved to a sitting position, panting furiously, ears pricked, paws twitching and her tail thumping on the pavement. ‘Come on then, Minnie,’ she said, crouching down beside her. ‘Give Charlie a welcome home kiss!’
Minnie needed no further urging. She threw herself at Charlie, nearly knocking her over, and gave her face a rapturous licking.
Ivor was waylaid by a customer at his shack, so Charlie went into the cottage alone. To her delight absolutely nothing had changed. Ivor’s chair was in place by the fire, the turquoise and green patchwork cushion she’d made in London and sent to him sitting on it. The old chiming clock, the ship in a bottle and the pipe rack still stood on the mantelpiece, along with odd fish-hooks, a skewer and a tin of shoe polish. Her chair was waiting too, the faded cushion plumped up as if no one had sat on it since she was last here.
Ivor had clearly gone to some trouble to make his home welcoming. The red and white checked tablecloth was spotlessly clean, a few wild flowers had been placed in a jam jar in her honour. The quarry-tiled floor had not only been swept and washed, but polished with Cardinal.
She took her bag upstairs to the small back room. Back when Joseph Fear was alive, this room had been his, but it had lain empty since his death. Ivor had repainted it white at the time Charlie was packing up the flat in Dartmouth, and insisted she brought her old bed, desk and other bits and pieces she might need later. At the time she had been dubious about this, believing she didn’t want any reminders of the past, but now, seeing all her old things again in a new setting, so fresh and pretty, she felt very glad Ivor had been so long-sighted.
Downstairs in the kitchen, she opened the cupboard to get out the mugs, and laughed to see a new one saying ‘First Mate’. She had bought Ivor a ‘Captain’ mug as a keepsake when she went to London, and she wondered how many shops he’d had to search through before he found the right one for her.
When Ivor didn’t come back, she took their tea through to the shack. The customer he had been serving was just leaving.
‘This is like old times,’ Charlie said as they sat down outside together. ‘And bless you for the mug, it was a lovely surprise.’
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he said, his eyes looking a bit misty. ‘No reason to go to Dartmouth, no one to share my catches of mackerel with. I had a young lad helping me until last week, but he was worse than useless, and I suspect he was taking money too. But however much I miss you, I’m glad you’re happy in London.’
Charlie looked out across the harbour and her whole body seemed to swell with joy. The sea was even bluer than she had pictured it in her mind, the salty seaweed smell stronger now because she’d grown accustomed to London smells. There were more boats now too, many very smart ones. Two whole years had passed since she went off with Guy in the Chlöe; in many ways it seemed such a short while ago, yet in others, almost a lifetime.
‘Come on, tell me everything,’ Ivor said impatiently, ‘particularly about the romance with Andrew.’
She caught hold of Ivor’s big rough hand and smoothed it between her two small ones. She wanted to make him see how happy she was.
‘That’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I love Andrew so much, Ivor. I can’t wait for him to go back to university in October so we can spend more time together. But then you must know how it is. I’m sure you were the same with Sarah.’
She couldn’t possibly tell him about the joyful, tender and passionate love-making, snatched whenever an opportunity arose, or even explain that it was just being with Andrew that thrilled her. He filled a place in her heart and mind that until he came along had been so barren. No other friend had ever made her laugh so much, she had never felt so secure, inspired and so utterly happy with anyone. He made her feel beautiful, inside and out. The sad past was over, and the future looked golden.
Ivor looked at her glowing eyes, felt all the joy radiating from her and knew exactly how it was for her. ‘I was just like you when I met Sarah. Walking on air, smiling at the whole world,’ he said, patting her flushed cheek. ‘That’s why I was surprised when Beryl said you’d telephoned to say you were coming this weekend without him. I didn’t think you’d be able to drag yourself away from him.’
‘I suppose I should have just waited for our holiday next month,’ she said. ‘But it’s so hot and kind of airless in London, Ivor, and Andrew will be working almost constantly because there’s a big fair up on Hampstead Heath. I would only have been hanging around on my own.’
This was the main reason, but there was another too which she didn’t wish to divulge. Meg.
Although Meg had calmed down for a few weeks after that middle-of-the-night incident with the five men, she was slipping back into her old ways again. It was wearing coming home from work and finding strange, half-naked men lying around in the flat. Charlie was sick and tired of clearing up the mess the girl and her friends made, and tired too of being woken in the night by loud music and frantic love-making.
But over and above that Charlie was anxious about a drugs bust. This hadn’t occurred to her when she thought Meg was only bringing in cannabis to smoke herself, but a couple of weeks ago Charlie had discovered she was in fact a dealer. She bought a weight of cannabis, weighed it out into half-ounce portions and then sold it on to people who called during the day and evening.
If the police raided the flat, Charlie knew she might well find herself in trouble too. She had tried to talk to Meg about it, but it did no good. The girl had a good little business going, she certainly wasn’t going to get a job like the rest of them. On top of this Charlie had also found out that Meg charged the rest of them enough rent so she didn’t have to pay anything herself, and she shoplifted almost all her food and clothes.
There were times when the girl’s personality reminded Charlie of her own mother’s. Meg had extreme mood swings, changing from being a very likeable, amusing and stimulating companion to a foul-mouthed depressive. At these times she was best avoided, as it was impossible to jolly her out of it, and she usually came out with her most biting insults at these times.
But the most remarkable similarity was the way Meg played up to men. She switched on her flirting mode with any male, regardless of age, appearance and social standing. She touched their hands, stroked their hair, fluttered her eyelashes at them and boosted their egos. No one was safe from this. She played up to Beth and Anne’s boyfriends, and Andrew. She would blatantly expose her body to them, she told embarrassing intimate stories about her sex life, and sometimes, though she always claimed it was a joke, suggested swapping partners. It had been the thought of being stuck with Meg for the whole long weekend which had decided Charlie on coming down here alone.
‘Is everything all right with your flatmates?’ Ivor asked.
‘Mostly,’ Charlie said. ‘Meg’s a bit annoying, and I get fed up with cleaning up after them sometimes. But I don’t suppose anyone could expect to share a flat with three girls and find everything perfect.’
‘And work, what’s that like?’ he asked.
‘Great,’ Charlie grinned. ‘Once the Hag goes out, it’s a riot. I’ve made some really good friends there. On Friday evenings we all go to the pub after work.’
‘Won’t it be different when all the students leave?’ he asked.
Charlie knew he thought she should g
et a better job, with real prospects. When she’d telephoned him to let him know her exam results he’d asked if she was going to apply to any universities. Her answer had been that it was too late to apply for the coming year, and besides, she’d needed time to think about exactly what direction she wanted to go in. All this was true, but not quite the whole story; right now she just wanted some fun.
‘Yes, it will be awful. Only Martin and Rita will be left. But I doubt I’ll stay on anyway. I’ll look around for a better job in banking or something, and then decide whether to apply to go to university next year.’
He smiled, he looked as if he knew the way her mind was working. ‘Just make sure you don’t distract Andrew in his final year, he’ll need to keep his nose in his books.’
The weekend went past in a flash. On Saturday Charlie went off to Slapton Sands on her own, to sunbathe and read. On Sunday she had spent all day out on the MaryAnn with Ivor, and all three evenings had been spent in the Victoria Inn. She had turned as brown as a berry again, she felt invigorated by the rest and good food.
But now it was Monday and Charlie had to go home. She couldn’t even hang on and get the last train to London, because that would be so packed with holidaymakers it would be hell. She telephoned Andrew at the pub and said she would be back by about seven. He said he would ask if he could have the night off, but he didn’t hold out much hope. Charlie said she would phone him again when she got in.
The train journey was quite pleasant. Charlie read a little, snoozed for a while, then walked down to the buffet and bought herself a drink and some sandwiches. The train was right on time until it reached the outskirts of London, then it stopped. Twenty minutes passed before the guard came along saying there’d been a signals failure up ahead. Another half-hour passed and he came back to apologize again. Charlie tried to snooze and hoped Andrew hadn’t managed to get the night off. At this rate she wouldn’t be home until eight or nine.
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