by Louise Wise
‘You’re asking me?’
He flushed. ‘Well, I know it seems that you’d be the last person I’d, er, I mean…’ he cupped the back of his neck and looked pained. He flashed her a God-I’m-such-prat-smile, which she recognised for one she usually gave out. ‘In all truth you are probably the only person who’d give me an honest answer.’
‘The pay’s OK. Of course I’d love a rise, but compared to other companies this one is generous.’
He nodded thoughtfully.
‘So, are you from England originally?’ she asked as innocently as she could.
‘Born and raised in London, yes,’ he said.
She nodded and said in a ‘thoughtful’ tone, ‘No long lost Irish or S-Scottish ancestors?’
‘My mother’s side is Scots. What about you? Any mixed heritage?’
She shook her head, and sipped her drink. Those were the words she didn’t want to hear, and it confirmed it for her: he was the Scottish man inside the car wearing the Beanie hat. He was the abductor.
A part of her died. It was probably her heart. Broken so many times, it had given out and lay in pieces inside her. That’s how bad the pain felt anyway.
He appeared to try and say something else, but Faye joined them and began to coyly ask Ben how much he would miss the third floor once he moved. Charlie slipped away with the excuse of taking Melvin his drink.
*
Ben made himself to concentrate on Faye as Charlie left. The beautiful woman appeared to be coming on to him. She lightly touched his arm with a red finger-nail and pouted up at him.
‘You’ll miss us when you’re cooped up in your office on the top floor,’ she said.
Ben had to force himself not to follow Charlie with his eyes. Her captivating smile earlier had him all a dither. She had taken Melvin his drink, and was standing with him while he was talking to John Fanton and Mikey. She didn’t look in his direction, and obviously his trying to act ‘hip’ – is that a word people still used nowadays? – hadn’t worked.
He groaned inwardly at the ‘virgin’ joke. She had been visibly shocked, and he’d been stupid to try and act at something he was uncomfortable with. He wasn’t on her level. He doubted he was on anyone’s.
Just then, Pete’s co-worker, brought out a brightly lit cake, and everyone began singing Happy Birthday in loud, drunken voices. Ben watched, a fake smile on his face, and clapped and cheered along with everyone else as Pete blew out his candles and muttered an embarrassed speech about ‘he never expected this’ and ‘how much he appreciated everyone’s time for helping to celebrate his birthday.’
Ben watched as Charlie pushed her hair behind her ears impatiently and rechecked her watch for the umpteenth time. After looking at it again she muscled in and planted a big kiss on Pete’s cheek.
‘Have a happy birthday, Petey,’ she said. ‘You’re such a lovely, wuvely man,’ she said in baby-speak as she wriggled his chubby cheeks and made kissing noises against his mouth like a great aunt might do to a toddler.
Ben’s lips twitched as he watched. She had slightly protruding ears that he hadn’t noticed before now, probably because of all that red hair that he’d love to bury his face in. The ears made her appear vulnerable; cute. God, he was totally, utterly and completely smitten.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Faye, still standing next to him. ‘The person who told her to “be yourself”, gave her some really shite advice.’
‘Is your job devoted to bitchy comments?’ he said, unable to stop himself. But he didn’t care. He left Faye and was on the point of reaching Charlie through the crowd, when she slipped from him once again and out of the door.
*
Once home she set about changing into jeans and a plain white T-shirt. She wore trainers this time, instead of high heels. And going into her little kitchen, she opened the cutlery drawer and took out a lock-knife. The previous tenant had been a keen angler, and unfortunately for Charlie had left broken fishing tackle, unsavoury bait and his old smelly waders in the bathroom. She never dreamed this knife would come in handy, and was glad she’d kept it.
She opened it and pressed the edge against her thumb. It was still sharp, even though it’d been unused for a while. She slipped the knife into her jeans, and made several Clint Eastward type movements as if she were a confronting a gun-toting cowboy and her knife was a gun, but the knife was too large and it kept getting stuck inside the pocket.
Charlie put on her faithful, worn, denim jacket. The pockets were larger in the jacket, and she placed the knife in there. She practised again, and the knife seemed to come out more easily, especially if she tugged.
In the bathroom she became Charlotte the Harlot as her freckles became hidden beneath makeup and her red hair was lost within the black hair pieces, which she again backcombed.
She still had a few of Andy’s unopened lagers in the fridge, and drank them for the much-needed Dutch courage. The two drinks she’d after work had worn off. She felt nervous and jittery, and the anxiety pain in her stomach became almost unbearable. But she had to see it though. For Sally and for Jan.
And for herself.
Ben Middleton was going to pay for breaking her heart with a long, long prison sentence. And Charlie Wallis, clerk at London Core, was going to be the one to place him behind bars!
She raised her chin with a steely determination she didn’t know she possessed. But it didn’t occur to her that she may become the fourth victim of the Gentleman Abductor.
THIRTY FIVE
Ben slowed the Audi, craning his neck as he passed Tarty. But there was no mistaken identity this time; it was undeniably Charlie. Her red hair was among the black, and he could see her slightly-protruding ears beneath the hair; a beacon to her identity despite the amount of cosmetics on her face. She wore tight jeans. They left no curve to the imagination, and Ben was quite able to see that her legs were long and shapely just as they had been in the Union Jack dress.
‘My God…’ Ben breathed. Charlie really was a prostitute!
He stopped, and pressed a button to slowly lower the passenger window. In his rear-view mirror, he could see her hesitating before she approached the car. He wore a black baseball cap this time, and dark glasses even though the sun had long ago set. He self-consciously pulled the cap low over his eyes and slid down in the seat as Charlie bent her head through the half opened window.
‘You up for a bit of fun, lover?’ she said, but her voice wobbled.
‘Yep, wee lassie,’ he said, putting on the Scottish burr again – Christ, he sounded ridiculous! ‘Jump in.’
The back door opened, and Charlie climbed in as if entering a taxi. Wouldn’t a prostitute have got in the front?
As soon as she closed the door he drove away, and locked the doors and windows. The click was loud in the confines of the car, and she must have heard. Ben glanced at her. She was huddled close to the door, and had one hand in her jacket pocket, while the other was pulling her hand out as if her first had become stuck. It was as if she was trying to remove something that had got jammed.
Suddenly, that something was freed as it flew out of her pocket and hit the opposite rear window before bouncing to the floor. He heard her swear, and then saw her bend down to gather up what she had lost. It was probably a cigarette lighter. Funny, he had never noticed her smoke before.
She sat up, and her eyes met with his. They both looked away just as quick. ‘Do you want my address?’ she asked, and Ben had to serve violently to avoid hitting a parked car in shock of her words.
‘Er… yes, all right.’
She gave it, and following her instructions Ben found himself driving to her home. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Charlie a hooker! He’d give her a piece of his mind, he vowed again, and then fire her! After he’d made sure she would never be that desperate for money and sell her body for sex again, of course. And probably after he’d asked her out to dinner, and probably after she’d realised she was in love with him like he was in love with…<
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He parked in the rundown tenants’ only car park, and unlocked the car doors so she could exit. He half expected her to run off, and grasped her elbow as if to help her from the car.
She allowed him to hold her, although her right arm was held stiffly and her hands were balled into fists. She bleeped their way in, and after a slight hesitation at the lift, decided to walk up the poorly maintained stairs. He followed, now allowing her to walk freely. She had nowhere to run.
Ben licked his lips, and couldn’t believe how excited he suddenly felt. It was as if his body was expecting him to make love to Charlie. Even his toes were burning.
Her flat was clean but untidy. If the apartment was inexpensively furnished it was tastefully done. And it was obvious that great love and commitment had gone into the décor. Ben suddenly felt ashamed. How could he fire her? She lived in a rundown apartment block and was obviously struggling, and maybe prostituting herself was the only way out.
He was looking around, taking in her tiny apartment when he noticed her turning to face him with a hesitant smile. She beckoned him over the threshold, and pushed the door shut behind him. She didn’t turn on any more lights, for which Ben was grateful, the only light they had was a small lamp that had already been on when they’d entered.
‘What’s the matter, lover?’ she asked; only a short distance separated them. She pouted, ‘Shy?’
He stared at her, unable to act, as she slowly closed the distance between them. She flattened her hands over his chest, and pressed her warm body against him. She only reached the top of his shoulder, and she peered up at him from beneath her heavily made-up eyes. ‘Aren’t you going to take off your glasses?’ she asked softly.
He stared down at her dumbly, unable to answer. Instead he took her hands and gently pushed her away. He had to, before common-sense fled his body totally. His body burned and throbbed. He couldn’t remember a time where he was turned on more.
With a sudden burst of strength, Charlie pushed him in the chest. Ben felt himself stagger backwards, and with the sofa behind his knees, he couldn’t help but collapse onto it.
‘Look, I don’t think…’ he began to say, as he struggled to stand. But Charlie firmly pushed him back among the cushions and straddled his lap; gyrating her hips against his hardening groin.
Her face was heavily made up, and with her hair the way it was, it was obvious that she thought she wouldn’t be recognised. But then why should that bother her? She hadn’t set out to get herself hired by Ben Middleton; he could have been anyone. And he wasn’t worried about Charlie recognising him – he was here to fire her anyway. Wasn’t he?
His breath, along with the sweet smell of Charlie’s perfume, was rapidly inhaled, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes. She tipped her head back and wriggled on his lap like some kind of harlot.
He groaned, through pleasure or dismay he wasn’t sure, but isn’t that what she was? A harlot? He groaned again at the twitch in his pants, and when she lowered her face towards his he didn’t, or couldn’t, resist and kissed her.
THIRTY SIX
Charlie watched as he fell back onto her settee, and then straddled his lap. Oh my God! What was she doing! She was having an out-of-body-experience, she thought. Only she wasn’t dead. She was alive. Very much so. She wriggled against him wonderingly and excitement flared in her body as his own rose to her teasing.
His lips parted on a groan, and his Cadbury eyes blazed. She was rocking on Ben Middleton’s lap like she was in a third-rate porn movie. Rocking on the man of her dreams’ hardening lap.
A criminal’s lap.
She had recognised him the instant he pulled up beside her in the Audi. The hair curling around the ears, the way he held the angle of his head, the slight slip-up on the stupid Scottish accent. Oh, yes, here at her disposal was Ben Middleton. And boy, was she going to see justice done!
But then he kissed her.
She felt her body relax like she had been steeling herself against this passion but had now given up. His tongue entered her mouth, and when she met it with her own she knew she was lost. The kiss was explosive and volatile, and suddenly she was lying on the settee and he was on top. His hands were in her hair, as his tongue explored the moist softness of her mouth.
She wasn’t setting him up in a honey-trap, he wasn’t an abductor or even Ben Middleton. She wasn’t a pretend prostitute, a journalist or Charlotte Wallis. They weren’t even people anymore. They’d melted and fused in a tangle of passionate chaos.
She felt his hand mould around her breast; her jacket was open at the front revealing the plain white T-shirt. He pulled it up, clumsy and impatient in his desire, and this power she had over him drove her wild! Her flimsy bra was no barrier as her breast came alive under his inquisitive fingers. She moaned and arched towards him. That she’d hate herself afterwards; that he’d hate her didn’t seem to figure in her enflamed, glazed mind.
Their unchecked passion was frightening. And all at once, he was on the floor and she on top, mouths still together, hands pulling at one another’s clothes.
The telephone rang.
Charlie froze. Then all her senses came flooding back. She scrambled up, and ignoring the phone patted her jacket pockets for the knife.
‘What’s the matter?’ Ben croaked, he didn’t appear to hear the phone. He looked as soppy as she felt. He held out a hand to her. ‘Come back.’
‘Condom,’ she said, and forced a smile. She felt sick. Sick with that she’d lost control so easily. He’s a criminal, she reminded herself. He abducted Sally Readman.
She pointed the knife at him. ‘I’m armed.’
‘Charlie…?’ Ben lowered his hand. He stared from the knife to her. ‘Is this a joke?’
Charlie’s chin trembled and tears spilled from her eyes. ‘I’m deadly serious.’
Ben sat up. ‘And I’m deadly confused. One minute we were… and the next you’re holding a knife to my face.’
‘It’s a lock-knife, and it isn’t in your face.’ She moved forward and bent slightly so she was at his level. ‘This is at your face.’
Ben flinched, and Charlie swallowed. She tried to stop her tears from falling and her chin from wobbling, but she couldn’t. She rubbed her nose and almost stabbed herself in the eye.
The phone stopped ringing and the answer machine kicked in. ‘Hi, Lottie, it’s Andy. Just to say, I forgive you and I’ll be home by Friday. Get the beers in, eh? Bye darlin’.’
They both stared at the phone, then Ben scrambled up and grabbed her hand around the knife. Charlie brought up her knee like all girls are taught.
‘Ben Middleton,’ she said as Ben sank to the floor once again with an anguished cry of pain. She held the knife out warningly towards him. ‘I didn’t listen to the rumours about you. I believed your innocence,’ she swallowed on some emotion, ‘b-believed you. God, how stupid. I e-even felt sorry for you!’
Ben stared up at her from where he knelt; his face still contorted in pain.
‘You s-seemed sad a-and haunted by something. Now I know what it was…’ her voice broke and her tears fell freely. ‘Guilt!’
‘I don’t under –’ he began. His expression was changing to bewilderment. He began to stand.
‘No!’ she shouted. She moved towards the phone. ‘Stay where you are. I’m making a citizen’s arrest!’
Ben’s confusion was swapped with shock. ‘You can’t think I had anything to do with the abductions? Charlie, I was cleared! It was a misunderstanding, that’s all!’
Slowing standing, Ben held out his hands in a gesture of innocence. ‘OK, I know how this looks, but I don’t normally pick up prostitutes. The only reason I did this time was because I knew it was you.’
She glared at him and he coloured.
‘That didn’t come out right.’
‘Sure didn’t.’ She looked away to reach for the telephone and Ben moved in, quickly grabbing the wrist that was holding the knife. Charlie yelled angrily and brought her knee up ag
ain, but this time he was ready, catching her leg between his own.
The close contact reminded her of their earlier desire and embarrassed her. She pushed against him, but he easily held her and the knife slipped from her fingers to fall noiselessly to the carpet.
Breathing heavily, Ben pushed her away from him onto the settee, so he was free to pick up the knife unchallenged. ‘I’m not the abductor,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose I’m any more a kidnapper than you’re a hooker, eh? What’s going on Charlie?’
‘Maybe that’s what you could tell me!’ she shouted at him, but watched miserably as he folded the lethal blade away and pocketed it.
Ben nodded towards the phone. ‘I trust you not to call the police. You wouldn’t want to be arrested for wasting police time, would you?’ He stared at her, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘What were you doing out on the streets? It was you in my car last week, wasn’t it?’
Charlie was shocked. He knew it was her? What was going on? Her head began to pound, and her heart-rate gathered pace. Knowing what was coming, she tried to calm herself.
‘This is so weird,’ he said. He paced one way, and then the other.
Charlie said nothing. She couldn’t. She was battling with her breathing. She continued to stare at him.
‘I didn’t connect that it was you until after we’d sorted out the overly large stationery order.’ He finally stopped pacing and turned to look at her. ‘Stop looking at me like that! I’m not the abductor. The idea is lunacy.’ He gave a low chuckle. It didn’t hold any humour, but to Charlie it didn’t matter. Her hackles rose. ‘Madness,’ he muttered. He moved towards the armchair as if to sit down, but Charlie launched herself from the settee and began striking him on the chest and shoulders.