Breathless

by Sullivan, Francis

  "Are those bombs?" Charlotte cried, peering out into the night.

  Jack nodded breathlessly. "Yeah."

  Charlotte's mouth opened in shock. "Why did they send me to England if it isn't any more safe than France is?" she cried.

  "Because there aren't any Germans in England!" Jack replied. "And they won't be able to get into England!"

  "No, they're just bombing it to pieces," Charlotte remarked, hugging herself and shutting her eyes tightly as she heard an explosion nearby. "How did you know to come down here?"

  "I grew up here," Jack said with a shrug. He stood from the floor, his nice suit now dusty and torn and his hair a mess. "When I was kid, my mum used to take me with her to rehearsals all the time. It was like my playground. Everyone loved me."

  "What happened?" Charlotte asked quietly.

  "I guess...I just didn't grow up to be someone they could still love," Jack said thoughtfully. He shrugged again and took off his suit coat, rolling up his sleeves, one of which was stained with blood.

  "Oh!" Charlotte cried, reaching out for it. "What happened?"

  "I think I was cut by the window's glass when I helped you down," Jack said dismissively, briefly glancing at the gash on his forearm. He held his other hand against it to stop the bleeding. "It'll be fine."

  Charlotte bit her lip and nodded. She sat down on a dusty old chair, not worrying about her new dress anymore. "Are the people in the theatre going to be all right?" she asked Jack worriedly.

  "I don't know," he replied. "If they headed down to the lower levels when they heard the sirens, then they should be. Every Brit knows what to do when they hear those sirens." He glanced up at the window, shards of glass surrounding it. "That was the all-clear. We should be safe to go back up now."

  Jack carefully pulled himself back up through the window and helped Charlotte up. When they were both on the pavement once again, Charlotte caught the smell of smoke and gunpowder in the air. The stench sickened her and her stomach turned with worry as Jack led her back to the entrance of the theatre, where crowds of people stood calling for one another. It was chaos. Charlotte was terrified they would never find Lewis and Helen. But then...

  "Jack! Jack! Charlotte!"

  Lewis' voice rang out in the crowd. Jack whipped around, searching for his father's voice.

  Lewis, seemingly out of nowhere, emerged from the crowd with Helen right behind him, looking mussed but relieved. "Oh, thank God!" he cried, pulling Jack to him.

  It was possibly one of the most lovely things Charlotte had ever seen. Her mother and father had never displayed obvious affection toward their children, but here Lewis was, embracing his grown son in front of everyone, tears of relief in his eyes. And most surprisingly, Jack was hugging him back, more tightly than Charlotte would have imagined.

  "I'm fine, Dad," Jack insisted. "Really. Not a scratch. Well," he said, rubbing his arm. "Hardly a scratch."

  "Charlotte are you alright?" Helen cried, inspecting her. "Oh, we were so worried!"

  "I'm fine," Charlotte told her. "Jack brought me down to the basement. I won't ever know what would have happened to me had he not been there." She looked over to her rescuer, a boy she had almost hated less than a half-hour ago. But could she possibly hate a person who had maybe saved her life. Charlotte gave Jack a look of thanks. He nodded back.

  As Lewis embraced her, Charlotte's eyes wandered up to the smoky skies of London, this beautiful city she had already come to love. It was only now dawning on her that troubles were everywhere. But her troubles had only begun.

  Hot steam filled the washroom, wafting through the air as Charlotte laid back in the tub, closing her eyes. It felt so nice to relax with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, especially after the chaos at the theatre the previous night. Charlotte had been so thankful for Mrs. Gates who had brought her tea and warm rolls with jam that morning and then had proceeded to run her a warm bath. Charlotte smiled, thinking of how much Luc would have enjoyed this treatment.

  Luc. He and the rest of her family had been on Charlotte's mind all night. She had barely been able to sleep, imagining terrible bombs going off outside her window or the ground shaking with explosions. She wondered if her family would know how to be safe if such terrible bombing was happening in France. Would her mother even go into the cellar? Or would she dismiss the idea because she would get too messy?

  There was a knock from the bedroom and Charlotte heard a familiar voice call, "Charlotte?"

  "I'm in the bathroom!" she called to Jack, leaning back inside the tub, the water falling over her shoulders. It strangely reminded her of Luc, who would always barge into the bathroom to ask her questions while she was in the middle of things. But she had never minded. When they were little, Nanny used to bathe the pair of them together in order to save time. There was nothing to be embarrassed over.

  But apparently Jack didn't feel the same way. As he opened the door to the bathroom and caught a glance of Charlotte laying in the tub, he immediately turned a deep red and spun away. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were in there!" he insisted, his eyes expertly trained on the opposite wall.

  "It's fine," Charlotte replied calmly, with a bit of amusement. It was the first time she had seen Jack embarrassed, and it was rather humorous. "Was there something you needed?"

  "Uh, yeah," Jack nodded, looking down at his shoes, his cheeks still incredibly pink. "My parents wanted me to let you know that we're going to church in about an hour and that if you wanted to come you should be ready..."

  "Alright," Charlotte agreed, beginning to pluck the hairpins from her hair. She had braided her short hair into a coil on the back of her head so that it wouldn't get wet and sticky.

  "So you'll be coming, then?" Jack asked.

  "Mm-hm," Charlotte nodded. "I'll be ready. You can tell your mother."

  "Okay, alright then," Jack replied rather unnecessarily. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and then finally left the room, closing the door behind him. Charlotte giggled at him. She was just bathing-it wasn't as if he had caught her completely naked. She stood from the tub and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, warmed from the fireplace.

  As soon as she heard Jack close the door to her bedroom, she walked from the bathroom and into her rooms, squeezing the water from her hair. Quickly finding a little white dress with a matching hat in her wardrobe, Charlotte laid the clothing on her bed. She quickly turned back to her writing desk, looking in her jewelry box for a pair of earrings. As she did, she noticed a photograph stuck in the bottom drawer of the box. Charlotte had forgotten about this, this photograph of Luc. She smiled remembering. He had taken a trip earlier that year with his then-girlfriend Claudine to the city of Cherbourg. Claudine had snapped the shot of him on a cold day in January. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, his hair windswept. He wasn't smiling, but there was such life in his eyes!

  Oh Luc, Charlotte thought miserably. London is wonderful. I just wish you were here with me.

  As she walked up the stone stairs of the church with the Careys later that morning, Charlotte couldn't help but admire the cathedral in pure awe. It was beautiful-nothing like what was in France. Although nothing else could ever compare to the gorgeous Notre Dame, the architecture in England was so different than that of France!

  "Come along, Charlotte," Helen called from the top of the stairs. Charlotte realized she had been admiring the church for too long, and Lewis and Jack were already walking through the massive doors. Charlotte ran up the stairs to catch up with Helen, who smiled and put her arm around her. "I wanted to thank you for coming with us today," she said graciously. "You don't know how much it means to Lewis and me. We know you're Catholic, but it's wonderful of you to come with us."

  "I don't mind!" Charlotte told her earnestly. "I like going to church. We never used to go back home. Sometimes for Christmas or Easter vigil, but not weekly. But I like it. It's nice and quiet here."

  "That's why Lewis and I like it, too," Helen confided as t
hey walked through the doors into the large hall, with so many pews that Charlotte could hardly imagine the amount of people who could attend one service. "Sunday is the only day we don't have performances at the theatre, so it's lovely to get the chance to just spend a quiet morning together."

  "I can imagine," Charlotte murmured, still breathless at the interior of the church.

  "I have to say, this is quite unusual," Helen commented quietly as she led Charlotte to the pew where Lewis and Jack were already waiting. "Jack hardly ever attends church anymore. I was surprised when he said he was coming this morning. I couldn't think of a reason he would have changed his mind...I thought perhaps it was maybe because of what happened at the theatre last night. Or maybe it's because you're here."

  "Oh, it isn't because of me!" Charlotte said honestly with a laugh. "Jack doesn't think very highly of me, that's apparent. If he came, it was for you and Lewis. I can bet on it." Her eyes widened. "But I shouldn't be making bets in a church, should I?"

  Helen laughed and patted her shoulder. "You're quite alright, dear." She smiled at Lewis as they reached him. He slid onto the pew, with Helen following him. Charlotte sat next to Helen, and Jack sat at the end quietly, waiting for the service to begin.

  Charlotte glanced down at her hands, clasped in her lap, and then over to the skirt of her dress, which skimmed the edge of Jack's pants. She could feel the warmth omitting from his body, he sat so close. She could smell the cologne that he had put on that morning. She hadn't noticed it yesterday. Why did it smell so good today, Charlotte wondered. She curiously glanced up at Jack, who was patiently watching the altar, his eyes calm, but dark circles ringing them. Had he too been awake last night, worrying?

  Charlotte shifted a bit uncomfortably. How could it be that she had disliked him so much only the day before, but now was wondering about him so curiously? And strangely enough, she didn't mind that he was sitting so close. It was a rather comforting feeling.

  Then Jack turned sideways to her and leaned forward, saying in a low voice to his parents, "Would you mind moving down a little bit? We really don't have much room down here..."

  Lewis and Helen shifted to their right, and Charlotte moved right next to Helen. She sat directly on her skirt, so that it wouldn't touch Jack at all. She couldn't help it-her feelings had been a bit pricked at his comment. She placed her hands firmly in her lap and stared straight ahead with an obvious expression of annoyance on her face. And this time, Jack was the one looking curiously at Charlotte as she solemnly watched the minister walk to the altar.

  Helen had been so thrilled that Jack and Charlotte were both joining she and Lewis for church that she suggested they all go for a nice brunch in the city. It was obvious that Lewis had expected Jack to immediately decline, but he surprised everyone by readily agreeing and suggesting a classy cafe downtown. Charlotte could not suppress a smile when she saw the grin spread across Helen's face. Although the car ride to the cafe was still quiet, it was the first time that Charlotte had seen the Carey family in a pleasant mood together. For once, the aura of the car wasn't tense and the conversation was polite.

  "Your mother had the driest sense of humor!" Helen laughed as they sat at a central table in the cafe. "Marie could always make light out of any terrible situation. We once had to perform at a terribly old theatre in Nice. There wasn't even running water! Halfway through the play, she and I were both desperate for a toilet. So she decided to take one of the flower vases and water the plants! I was screaming with laughter!"

  "My mother did not do that!" Charlotte insisted. Even though she could never imagine her mother doing such a thing, she bellowed with laughter until her sides hurt. "Oh, that's so embarrassing!" she cried, clutching her blushing cheeks. "Please tell me you didn't do it, too!"

  Helen looked mischievously at her husband before saying, "Oh, of course not," in a voice that clearly told that she had.

  All three burst out laughing at Helen's sly smile. "That's charming, Mum. Really," Jack chuckled, taking a drink from his coffee mug.

  "Did you ever meet my mother?" Charlotte asked Lewis, who was quietly buttering his pastry.

  "Did I meet your mother?" Lewis repeated, but didn't look at Charlotte. He glanced across the table at Helen, who exchanged a look with him as she sipped her tea. "No," he finally replied. "Regretfully, I never have. Which is a shame. I hear she's a wonderful woman."

  Charlotte smirked. "That's what everyone says," she commented. "Everyone who doesn't really know her."

  Lewis frowned in confusion. "Why do you say that, Charlotte?"

  "Because she's wonderful to everyone else," Charlotte told him seriously, looking straight into his calm eyes with her deep brown ones. "Except to the people who should matter most. Such as her children. And even her husband."

  "Charlotte, I'm sure that's not true," Helen said quietly. "I'm sure your mother cares about her family very much."

  "She has a strange way of showing it," Charlotte replied. She felt badly being so negative after such a nice morning, but at the same time it felt good to be able to open up to the Careys about what her life in France had really been like. "When I was little, I hardly saw my mother. Not even on my birthday. She would leave early in the morning without saying goodbye and come home late after I had already fallen asleep. She was better with Luc, but not by much. She only cared about him when she needed someone to go to a party with her. He was the obvious solution when my father was unavailable-her incredibly good-looking, good-natured son. But other times she would act like he didn't even exist. She even told him she wouldn't pay for him to go to a university if he wanted to study art."

  The Careys were quiet. Finally Lewis cleared his throat and asked, "And your father?" Charlotte noticed Helen raise her eyes to her husband at this question.

  "She and Papa never really were affectionate," Charlotte told him. "At least not in front of us. I'm sure they were at some point, like in your story, Helen. But he mainly stayed in his office or at the hospital where he worked. And Mother was always at the theatre."

  The table was quiet again until Lewis said softly, "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't realize."

  Attempting to brighten the mood once again, Helen asked Jack cheerfully, "So, Jack! Your eighteenth birthday is coming up soon. It's quite a landmark. Is there something special you'd like to do?"

  Jack shook his head. "No, nothing special really. I reckon birthdays just get duller as you get older." He shrugged.

  "Oh come on, Jack," Lewis nudged him with a smile. "Our only child is turning eighteen! We want to celebrate! There must be something you would like?"

  Jack smiled a little at his father. Charlotte enjoyed when they were like this, happy together. She wished Luc and her own father could have a bond like theirs, even if it was strained.

  Jack sat forward in his seat, an expression of excitement crossing his face as he began to grin like a little child. "Well, there is this-"

  "Oh dear, look at the time!" Helen exclaimed, glancing at the clock on the wall. "It's nearly noon. I can't keep the others waiting. We were supposed to have a bit of a rehearsal this afternoon to make sure we're ready for opening night!" She stood hurriedly and slipped into her coat. "And Lewis, Jonathan wanted to meet with you at the theatre. He wanted to speak with you about the new idea you're so excited about?"

  "Right!" Lewis agreed, his eyes lighting up. He stood and began to put on his own coat.

  "I thought we were having a nice brunch together, Mum. We've barely made it through tea," Jack said dryly, looking up at his mother.

  "I'm sorry, Jack. I completely forgot. We'll have a nice family dinner soon, alright?" she asked, pecking him on the cheek, which seemed to annoy him more than anything. "Now I really must be going. Could you take Charlotte home, Jack?" Helen kissed Charlotte on her cheek and bid her goodbye before hurrying out of the cafe.

  "But Dad-" Jack began, his eyes losing the sparkle from his excitement only moments earlier.

  "I promise we'll discuss
your birthday soon," Lewis told him seriously. "It's not something I'll easily forget, Jack. But I must be off." Lewis stopped hurrying for a moment to notice Jack's obvious disappointment. "I can't help this, Jack. It's my job."

  "I know," Jack replied with a shrug. "Then go."

  Lewis sighed exasperatedly and gave a quick smile to Charlotte before he followed his wife out the door.

  Charlotte sat quietly looking down at her teacup, waiting for Jack to say something. He turned to her with a sullen look on his face. "I told you, didn't I?" he asked with a smirk. "This is how it is. Don't expect things to be any different." And with that, he stood up abruptly and stalked out of the cafe.

  Left alone in the middle of London, with no idea where to go, Charlotte could only think to do one thing. She called Topher at the house. He immediately left to pick her up from the cafe and arrived only ten minutes later.

  "He really left you here all by yourself?" Topher asked angrily as he opened the car door for Charlotte.

  "Jack? Yes," she told him as he sat in the driver's seat and pulled away from the curb. His anger made her even more peeved with Jack. "I really shouldn't have expected any better from him, though," she commented.

  Topher shrugged, but he obviously agreed with Charlotte. He just couldn't say anything against his employer's son.

  "Why does he do that, anyway?" Charlotte asked, frustrated. "He talks so badly about his parents all the time and then he acts no better."

  "Because he doesn't want to be better than his parents," Topher said. "He wants to be different than them, in any way possible. Even if that means acting like a spoiled brat, like a tyrant, sullen, rude..."

  Charlotte looked at Topher in surprise. "You certainly have a few things to say about him," she noted.

  Topher bit his lip in hesitation but then replied, "Jack and I grew up together. We were playmates. We were friends. But then he grew up to be...very different. And it's sad to see him like this. He's going out and drinking night after night while I work day in and day out for his family!" Topher exclaimed incredulously. "Now don't get me wrong," he told Charlotte quickly, "I love working for the Careys. But Jack...sometimes he just makes me so mad."