by Louise Wise
His office door swung open and Clair entered without waiting for permission. ‘Oops sorry,’ she said, without looking apologetic. ‘I thought you would have left for the morning meet by now.’
John Fanton and various heads of sections met up every morning where reporters’ and editors’ ideas are presented and a tentative plan is made on what content is to be included in tomorrow’s edition of London Core.
He righted himself, and pointed to his shoe. ‘Undone,’ he explained.
‘Right.’ She moved across the office towards his filing cabinet.
‘They can cope without me,’ he said. ‘I’ve, er, work to do here.’ He picked up a boring looking financial document.
Clair closed the cabinet. ‘Shall I tell them? I think they’re waiting for you.’
‘Tell them to begin without me. Er, Clair?’
‘Yes?’
‘No more interruptions, OK?’
She pulled a face, ‘OK,’ and closed the door behind her.
Ben put the document down and picked up the phone. He pressed Charlie’s extension number quickly, almost angry at his own hesitancy. It was engaged.
Ben replaced the phone with a sigh.
*
Charlie had been buzzing with anticipation since Ben had ‘maybe’ asked her for coffee in the canteen yesterday. She knew it was like believing in a fairy-tale: the lowly office clerk and the bigwig in a suit, and at the back of her mind had a secret suspicion that Melvin was right about Ben.
She wasn’t pretty enough, not smart enough, not tall enough or had the right hair colour to be associated with Ben Middleton. What did he see in her?
Despite her uncertainty she was wearing her smartest dress, a simple navy affair with kick-away pleats falling to her knees. She thought it extremely business like and elegant. Even Faye had complimented her on it this morning – although in a backhanded way.
‘Nice frock.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Was that the last of the sale?’
The morning was whiled away as Charlie battled to get through her workload. Her brain was all mushy and Core wasn’t going to get much out of her today. Luckily, she was able to hide her inability to work as she slipped from Solitaire to real work on the computer whenever someone walked by. She kept one eye on the door in case Ben came through – hoping he’d come through – kiss her in front of a gawping office, which would instantly stop all gossip that he was ashamed of her. Failing that, she willed her phone to ring and for him to be on the other end telling her he loved her. Maybe she could put it on speakerphone?
‘Coffee Charlie?’
Failing all of those, maybe there was another letter in her tray? Maybe he’d squirted it with his aftershave and endorsed it, ‘lovingly yours forever, Ben. XXX.’
‘Charlie!’
‘Eh?’ She looked up.
‘Coffee?’ Melvin stood watching her, looking amused. ‘I’ve never known you so quiet. It’s weird.’
‘Don’t knock it, Mel, I like it!’ said Faye. She held out a Betty Boo mug. ‘I’ll have a coffee; make it in that? Plastic cups are so not me.’
‘Since when?’ laughed Melvin, taking the mug.
‘I’d have said plastic is very you, Faye,’ said Charlie.
Faye gave her the finger, and Charlie grinned.
‘Mel,’ she hissed as he turned.
‘Your lipstick is still on, doll,’ he replied without faltering towards the coffee machine.
‘How’d you know?’
‘Because you’ve been asking me all morning. Your lipstick, Sizzle Me Hot, is still on –’
‘How’d you know its name?’
‘Because you’ve told me that too. The dress looks fantastic and your tresses are wonderful. You’ll knock him dead, so now can I finally have a few moments to savour my coffee break?’
‘And the shoes? You didn’t mention the shoes.’ She wheeled back her chair and stuck out her leg. She wore her old, but newly cleaned, black stilettos.
Melvin looked from her feet to her face. He was clearly weary of her daydreaming, and mooching around the office, he sighed, ‘For God’s sake Charlie, just call him already!’
‘Ooh, I couldn’t!’
‘Oh, you certainly could. Quicker than you nipping to the canteen every five minutes anyway,’ he grumbled.
She grinned, biting her lip. She picked up the phone and dialled his extension, the pink tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. It was engaged.
She replaced the handset. ‘Engaged,’ she explained. She clutched her head in mortification. ‘But thank God! What would I have said! I can’t believe I just did that. Mel, how could you influence me like that?’
‘What’s she jabbering on about now?’ asked Faye.
‘Oh, the usual Charlie stuff,’ said Melvin.
‘Crap then?’
‘Yeah.’
Charlie beamed.
Feeling a thrill, she reached for the phone again.
*
Ben picked up the phone. ‘Charlie Wallis for you, Ben,’ said Clair. ‘Do you want me to put her through?’
He felt sick; no, he was going to be sick. ‘I… er… yes. Yes please, Clair.’
‘… wondering if you meant for me to meet you for a coffee yesterday and I had inadvertently stood you up, seeing as, you know, you haven’t called me, or... Hello?’ Charlie had obviously begun to talk the moment Clair had put her on hold with regards to putting her through. ‘Hellooooo?’
Ben’s mouth twitched and he realised he wasn’t nervous any more. ‘Hello Charlie,’ he said.
There was silence on the other end and then, ‘Oh God.’
‘No, it’s Ben. Or Frank,’ he said, feeling so happy he thought he would burst. ‘Or even Burt, if you like.’
Laughter, ‘We didn’t get off on the best foot, did we?’
‘I’d say we did.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded, for once, lost for words.
‘I’m glad you rang.’
‘You are?’ she sounded surprised. Delighted, but surprised.
‘I wanted to ask you to the theatre this Saturday.’
‘Like the pantomime?’
Ben chuckled. ‘Not quite. I’ve heard that Chicago is very good. I’ve seen the film with Catherine Zeta Jones and –’
‘And Richard Gere. Ooh yes, I’d love to see it. Melvin went with his boyfriend the other week and has raved about it ever since. Melvin was going to take me one weekend, but we never got round to it. I adore Richard Gere. It’s the silver hair,’ she gushed.
Ben smiled; he could almost imagine her dancing around in excitement. ‘Unfortunately Zeta Jones and Gere aren’t in the theatre production,’ he teased. ‘And you’ll have to make do with my brown hair instead of Gere’s grey –’
‘Silver,’ she amended.
‘OK, silver hair. So, is this Saturday OK? At six?’
‘Is this a date?’
‘I hope so,’ Ben said. ‘That is, if you want it to be?’
‘As in a real couple?’
Ben began to feel hot. ‘That was the intention, however, if you’re uncomfortable with –’
‘God, no! I just can’t understand why you’d want anything to do with a pleb like me.’ Her voice was lowered and muffled as if she was speaking under her hand. ‘Flipping ‘eck, a couple, me and you… er, I mean, you and I.’
He laughed. Happy and relieved. ‘Don’t change Charlie. Not for me. Not for anyone.’
*
Charlie replaced the phone in its cradle, and then paused for dramatic effect before giving Melvin and Faye the thumbs up sign.
Faye was shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘It’s true,’ Charlie insisted.
‘Unfortunately, it is true,’ Melvin told Faye. ‘Our Charl is not only a novelist in the making but she’s bagged the boss!’ His face became serious. ‘Trouble is I don’t like, or trust, his intentions. I mean, he’s upstairs in his grand office, and she’s here scratching
around earning a living to keep a roof over her head.’
‘Who’s “she”?’ grumbled Charlie. ‘I am here, you know.’
Melvin ignored her. ‘Something’s fishy, that’s all.’
Faye was nodding. ‘I agree. But bloody hell, Charl, what an opportunity! Think of the alimony.’
Turning her face away, Charlie put up her hand, palm outward, to them. ‘I’m not talking to you two until you can say something nice.’ She bent her head and began to get on with her work, or rather finish her game of Solitaire as Melvin and Faye sniggered between themselves.
‘Er, Charl?’ said Faye, as Melvin said,
‘Baby doll.’
‘I told you, no more.’ She cursed as the computer brought up the menu: ‘no more available moves’ and then noticed a presence standing beside her – or rather her skin did. It went all tingly. She looked up, and straight at Ben. With an easy smile on his face he bent and placed his hands on her desk, then kissed her soundly on her surprised lips.
‘I forgot to tell you that we’ll be going out to dinner afterwards,’ he said softly when they broke apart. ‘Is there any food that you really dislike?’
She shook her head dumbly.
‘That’s good.’ He winked. ‘I’ll pick you up at six, then?’
She nodded dumbly too.
He smiled, tapped her nose and left.
Faye’s jaw had hit her shoes. Sarah, over by the vending machine, was holding the hot water button for tea and it was flowing over the top of her cup as she gawked. Her teabag floated out and lay pathetically in the sluice tray. Melvin’s face was contorted in strange angle.
‘No! You really are going out with Mr M!’ said Faye, who’d managed to pick up her jaw after all. ‘Flipping, bloody, hell.’
Charlie nodded, a wide grin across her face. She clutched her head in her hands. ‘I can barely believe it myself.’
‘Bloody hell, neither can I!’ Sarah sipped her ‘tea’, not seeming to notice that it had no tea in it.
‘Doll, I may have to hand in my notice,’ said Melvin. ‘Because if he breaks your heart I will kill him.’
‘Oh, shurrup Mel, this is serious,’ said Faye. ‘Charlie what was he whispering? When are you seeing him?’
‘Tell us all,’ added Sarah running over, spilling her ‘tea’.
‘We are going to the theatre on Saturday and then on to dinner,’ she said, attempting a posh accent. Unfortunately, she sounded like she had been sucking helium out of balloons.
‘I nominate myself to be your stylist,’ Faye said, rubbing her hands together briskly. She looked at Charlie critically. ‘Hmmm about my height, only you’re fatter.’ She flapped a hand as Charlie’s mouth fell open at her cheek. ‘Never mind, I’ll bring a stack full of clothes from my wardrobe to yours Saturday afternoon. Your clothes are only fit for charity shops and then they’d be in the bargain bucket… No need to thank me.’ Faye turned on her six-inch heel and headed back to her desk.
FORTY SEVEN
C harlie hummed through her work aware that the office gossip was about her. She didn’t mind. There hadn’t been a time in her life that she had something to shout about, so for people to chat about her love life was a novelty.
‘Ben and me must invite you and Dean to dinner one evening,’ she said to Melvin as he pounded away on his computer in front of her. He hadn’t said much since Ben had kissed her in full view of the office, and his poor keyboard had suffered for his bad mood.
‘Can’t wait,’ he said without turning around. He got up and took a file over to the news’ desk. Charlie stuck her tongue out at his back, then began a rendition of Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World until Faye threw a scrunched up piece of paper at her.
Charlie beamed back undaunted.
Sarah scooted along in her chair towards Faye’s desk, and they spoke in lowered tones; both covertly looking her way. They broke apart with Faye saying, ‘It’s OK Charl, you carry on singing.’
That should have been the first clue that something wasn’t right. Melvin sulking was normal, but Faye being nice wasn’t.
The second was when people stopped talking wherever Charlie came within earshot, so it should’ve became clear that the gossip wasn’t the ‘Oh my God, Charlie’s bagged the boss. Isn’t she lucky’, kind of gossip.
Towards the end of the day, Melvin, Faye and Sarah gathered around her desk.
‘We’re here to take you for a drink,’ said Melvin.
‘It’s Tuesday,’ Charlie said, addressing Melvin. ‘You always work late Tuesdays. Tuesdays and Fridays are your working late da –’
‘I can take my mate for a drink, can’t I?’ Melvin said, cutting her off. He grinned at her; his mouth unnaturally wide. ‘I dare say I’ll come back afterwards. Come on, I’ve been a bitch and want to make up.’
Charlie looked from one to the other. Melvin never joined her and the other girls for a drink. That should have been another clue, but Charlie gathered her belongings happily, and jauntily walked out of the office and into the lift with them.
Sarah linked her arm on one side, and Melvin other as Faye led them into the foyer. Charlie chatted aimlessly, as they, in total silence, walked her towards the Pig in Muck pub.
November had brought dark evenings and the taste of a chilly winter to come, but to Charlie everything was enclosed in the sunny glow of summer, and instead of car fumes and the scent of the local kebab shop she smelt fresh flowers. She began to hum and flashed Sarah and Melvin, either side of her, a grin.
‘So is this a celebratory drink to wish me and Ben well?’
Melvin squeezed her arm, but said nothing. They ushered her inside Pig in Muck, and sat clustered around her in an alcove by the window. The pub was already decorated for Christmas, and there were festive menus on the table.
Charlie picked one up. ‘Oh my God! What do I buy a rich man for Christmas? I’m sure he has most things already!’
‘Drinks before disclosure?’ asked Sarah.
‘Defo,’ said Faye. And they left for the bar.
‘Melvin, what’s this all about?’ Charlie asked as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘Sarah said “disclosure”, what does she mean? Is she in some sort of trouble?’
‘I want them to tell you,’ he said, jerking his head in Faye and Sarah’s direction. ‘If I say you’ll not believe me, and think I’m just being a cow.’
‘Of course I won’t! Silly goose.’
‘Silly goose?’
‘I need to practise my posh English, I can’t call you a prat anymore.’
‘It’s not going to last, you know, doll.’
‘I have to try. I can’t let Ben think he’s going out with a chav now can I?’
Melvin closed his eyes. ‘Not the way you speak!’ He chewed his lip. ‘You wear your heart on your sleeve, and he’s going to hurt you.’
Charlie stared at him before speaking for a moment. ‘You can’t go through life not doing anything just because of failure, Mel.’ She reached across and touched his hand. ‘Your parents, your real parents, wouldn’t want that.’
He sighed. ‘This isn’t about me, doll, it’s Ben.’
Faye and Sarah returning from the bar prevented her from digging her nails into his hand and asking for more. Her drink looked like brandy, and when she sniffed it she grimaced. She pushed it to one side.
‘Come on, time to tell me what this is all about,’ she said.
Melvin pushed the drink back towards her. ‘Sarah found something out about Sir, something that tells me I was right all along about him.’
Charlie, her eyes on Sarah, now flashed back at Melvin. She was looking hurt. ‘You can’t help it, can you?
He looked pained. ‘Baby doll –’
‘Stop calling me that! I am not a baby or a doll. I grew up Mel, mentally I’m probably more mature than you! At least I know relationships can last.’
‘I’ve Dean. I know they last!’
‘It took you ages to commit to him. Poor bloke thou
ght he’d never win you over.’ She snatched up her drink and took a swig forgetting for a moment that it was brandy. A cough shook her and brought tears to her eyes as the fiery liquid slipped down her throat. She grabbed Faye’s orange. ‘That’ – cough – ‘was disgusting.’
Melvin was scowling. ‘Tell her, Sar,’ he said.
The heat from the brandy had given Charlie pink cheeks. She sipped more of Faye’s drink until she snatched it back.
‘Go on, Sarah,’ Faye said. ‘Put her out of her misery, and maybe I’ll get to drink my own orange juice.’
Sarah cleared her throat. ‘Middleton will have his marriage arranged for him – you won’t stand a chance of marrying him. Big M, that’s Donald Middleton, always chooses his girlfriends and won’t allow anyone outside their circle to date his precious son.’
‘What a load of bollocks!’
‘Just listen,’ Melvin said.
Charlie stood up. ‘I’m not staying to listen to this crap. Nobody arranges marriages anymore – not if you’re English anyway!’
‘Baby … Charlie,’ said Melvin. ‘That’s not it. Sit down. Please.’
Charlie sat, scowling. She crossed her arms over her chest.
‘Sir is having a fling before he settles down. You’re the fling.’
Charlie stuck her fingers in her ears, but Faye pulled them out. ‘Listen to us! This is for your own good! Ben Middleton was in a relationship with a woman called Nicole. Because of his mum’s death and his sister doing a runner they sort of split up.’
‘And you know for certain that they are back together?’
‘Well no, but –’
‘Thought so.’ Charlie pushed the brandy towards Melvin, and stood up. ‘Here, drink this then go and get yourself a life. Your own life.’
‘Charlie! Charlie, where are you going?’ Melvin shouted after her.
‘To find Jan. A real friend!’
She was more than angry. She was fuming, and she pushed her way out of the booth and out onto the street. She was well aware that Ben wasn’t in her orbit. If they were planetary worlds, she’d be a frivolous comet flitting through space and he a majestic planet. But planets and comets met sometimes, didn’t they? She didn’t like the destructive image of the colliding planet and comet that burst into her head though.