‘Ah, whatever,’ he said easily, mopping it up with a tea-towel. ‘It’s exciting, isn’t it?’ He paused. ‘I’m so grateful to you, brother.’
I watched him guardedly, waiting for him to expand.
‘I’d never have done this without your emails,’ Sam said. ‘I’d have just carried on lying around eating junk and doing nothing. I owe this job to you.’
Exactly! I thought. We’re a team! Don’t do this!
Sam finished his tea and stood up. ‘We should say goodbye,’ he said to the window. ‘It might be a while. Although with all your free time maybe you could come down to London for a weekend and we could party?’
‘Sounds good,’ I replied. We both knew this would never happen.
I got up. ‘Well, bye, then,’ I said, giving him a quick hug. ‘And congrats.’
‘I hope your dad’s OK,’ he said, making for the door. ‘And that you take some proper time off, Chas. I know you’re planning to get back into First Date Aid but, bruv, you need rest. Even with a broken leg and pelvis and whatnot you didn’t take it easy.’
‘I will. But I’m looking forward to taking First Date Aid forward with you,’ I added hopefully. I prayed Sam wouldn’t ditch that too.
To my great relief he nodded emphatically. ‘Absolutely! Actors have an easy life, Chas. I’ll have plenty of time to do it. We’ll probably speak every day!’
I was feeling really miserable now. Of course we wouldn’t speak every day. He’d soon get dragged into his new life and I’d spend my days sitting around in silence emailing total strangers on behalf of total strangers.
‘I hope we speak every day,’ Sam added, after a pause. His face had clouded over and I saw that he was actually quite sad himself. A proper lump swelled in my throat. This shouldn’t be happening.
‘What play is it?’ I asked, as Sam hugged Malcolm goodbye.
Sam smiled. ‘The Tempest.’
I gasped. I knew nothing about Shakespeare but I knew The Tempest all right. Sam’s time-honoured chat-up line, the one he’d been using since the first day I’d met him at Glasgow University, was from The Tempest. I didn’t know why but I began to experience a strange emotional shift as I looked at the boy standing before me. ‘Wow, Sam! Who are you playing?’
Sam grinned even harder. ‘Ferdinand!’
‘Don’t tell me he’s the one who uses that line?’
‘Yeah! Jackpot!’
‘Brilliant,’ I said, now genuinely entertained. ‘Well, let’s hope the girl playing Miranda will be fit and then you’ll really mean it when you say that line!’
Sam laughed uncomfortably. ‘Er, yeah, let’s hope so.’
We were standing in the doorway now, cold air seeping hungrily into the kitchen. Sam smiled a final farewell. ‘I’m so glad everything happened as it did,’ he said. A small blush was appearing on his neck. ‘You’ve basically changed my life, Chas.’
And then he went, disappearing round the corner towards the square with his hands in his pockets and the collar of his coat up against the stiff wind.
‘CHARLEYPOPS?’ I came to with a start. Hailey was standing behind me in the kitchen with Malcolm exploding excitedly around her. She looked worried.
‘Hi,’ I said. My voice sounded woolly.
‘Are you dead? I just said your name three times before you heard me.’
I smiled. ‘Not dead. Just …’ I trailed off. Just absolutely gutted, I thought.
Hailey gazed suspiciously at me. ‘Why are you standing in the doorway? You’re not seeing ghosts, are you?’ I couldn’t help but laugh. She looked not dissimilar to Sam, rucked up and spiky after a night sleeping on the other sofa with three sleeping bags piled on top of her.
‘No. I was letting Sam out. He had to go back to Edinburgh.’
Hailey nodded sagely. ‘Yes. We had a good old chinwag when everyone went off to bed last night. Fucking amazing he got that part, eh?’
I nodded and a silence sprang up between us. We’d behaved ourselves yesterday but the situation had demanded it. Now, though, there was nothing between us and last week’s awful phone call. Even though I wanted to get angry that she’d accused me of sleeping with Matty, it was hard to feel anything other than fondness for Hailey as she stood in front of me, hair sticking out in a bad halo round her head, my old pyjamas struggling to meet round her newly rounded belly.
‘I’m not pregnant,’ she said, following my eyes. ‘I’m fat.’
I hovered by the front door, unsure what to say. Fortunately Hailey had decided to run this conversation. ‘I’ve been comfort eating,’ she announced. ‘Or comfort bingeing, more like. I’ve suspected Matty of playing around for a long time.’ She stared at me defiantly, daring me to contradict her. I said nothing, but sat down slowly at the table and gestured to her to do the same.
She pulled a sleeping bag over her stomach, something I’d never seen her do. Hailey had an amazing body, all padded curves and wobbly bosoms, and she’d always been justly proud of it. Now she was not. She was hiding herself. The day of twenty sausages made a lot more sense.
‘And before you ask,’ she said, ‘it had never even crossed my mind that Matty and you were messing around. But I knew he’d been somewhere on Wednesday night and I was going through his phone when you called … In my mad state I thought he must be shagging you if you were calling at nearly eleven the next night.’ She pulled the sleeping bag round her more tightly. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘You were trying to help me and I acted like a psychopath.’
I couldn’t bear to see Hailey so broken and ashamed. ‘No,’ I said softly. ‘I’m sorry. I was drunk. It was inexcusable to call at that time of night.’
‘But you were calling Matty, not me!’ she said, eyes flashing. ‘You were doing the right thing! How could I ever have suspected you? I … urgh,’ she said, obviously disgusted.
‘Stop it, Hails,’ I said. ‘Stop beating yourself up. You’re the innocent party here. It’s Matty who’s in the wrong.’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘Can I make some tea?’ she asked eventually. Her voice was wobbling.
‘Of course.’
A tear fell down her cheek. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘can I have a hug?’
After a very long hug, during which both of us cried a little, we got dressed, took Malcolm out for a walk and Hailey told me what had been going on.
From the moment she’d moved in to Gore-Tex Towers – and thus been with Matty a lot more – she had noticed that his behaviour was often rather erratic, coming home late with a series of weird excuses and spending far too much time on his iPhone. ‘Remember how we thought it was amazing that he was online when he was working in a remote garden?’ Hailey asked. ‘He fucking well wasn’t. He works in a bloody office, Charley!’
The day after I’d told Hailey about Matty and Margot she had followed him to work and had been amazed when he’d parked outside the offices of a debt-collection agency out towards Musselburgh. At five thirty p.m. he had driven back into town and met up with a woman he obviously didn’t know in the lobby of a tatty hotel near the railway station. They had had two drinks each ‘and a plate of PRAWN SKEWERS, Chas. PRAWN FUCKING SKEWERS? What kind of a courtship is that?’ and had then disappeared upstairs. He had returned home at eight forty-five and given Hailey her customary cuddle, eaten his dinner and then run a bath. ‘He took his fucking iPhone with him,’ Hailey muttered darkly. ‘No doubt organizing the next slag.’ Hailey had moved out the next day and was staying with her mother in Falkirk.
‘I just can’t believe what I’m hearing,’ I said. Malcolm galloped head-first into a flock of pigeons, barking excitedly as they took flight.
‘That’s why I got so shitty with you,’ Hailey said, ‘about William the Internet doctor. I’d been suspicious of Matty for ages and sort of convinced myself that all women were evil husband-stealers.’
She threw a stick for Malcolm. ‘You can only steal a husband when he wants to be stolen, though,’ she said sadly. �
�I feel like such a fool.’
I grabbed her gloved hand. ‘You’re nothing of the sort, Tits.’
After a short battle I persuaded Hailey to move into Sam’s room. She resisted for a while, informing me that I needed peace and quiet, not another lodger, but once I’d filled her in about Salutech and the very scary uncertain future stretching ahead of me, she agreed. ‘I’ll keep an eye on you,’ she said affectionately. ‘Make sure you’re not storming off, trying to take on the world.’
I smiled gratefully. ‘I may well need help with that.’
We walked round Smeaton Lake in contemplative silence, Hailey lost in thoughts about Matty and me lost in thoughts about Sam. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to stay and hang around with me in the flat and take me to the Barony, to make me funny dinners and put on funny films.
I resolved not to talk about Sam for the rest of the day. There were bigger fish to fry.
‘Me and Sam had a kiss to make sure those emails meant nothing,’ I heard myself remark. I could have slapped myself! Hadn’t I just resolved not to talk about him again? Could I rely on myself to do bloody anything any more?
With a visible effort, Hailey dragged herself out of wherever her head had been. I watched her process what I’d just said. ‘Oh, my God!’ She looked like she was about to faint. ‘You WHAT? What was it like?’
I shrugged in what I hoped was a dispassionate manner. ‘Scientific. It was an experiment. Science.’
‘WHEN? WHERE?’
‘Late one night last week. We were drunk; it was nothing.’ I thought I’d sounded reasonably off-hand.
Hailey stopped walking and stared at me. ‘Have you had sex with the Bowes?’ she whispered.
‘Of course not!’ Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?
‘Thank holy God for that,’ Hailey said eventually. ‘That would be absolutely disgusting. You and Bowes? Urgh! Worst couple ever!’
‘Too right.’ I laughed, rather loudly. She was right. It would be awful, me and Sam.
There was a weird silence as we walked on, which Malcolm took the edge off by plopping into the near-freezing lake and thrashing around for a few seconds before exploding out again.
‘Actually, Charleypops,’ Hailey said thoughtfully, ‘you should probably ignore me. I mean, what the fuck do I know about men? I moved in with someone who likes to be tied to the end of the bed with a dog collar.’
I snorted and, after a few seconds, Hailey joined in. A few minutes later we were doing what we did best: clinging to each other, howling with laughter.
When we arrived back home, the relatives had gone and there was a smell of eggs, bacon and change in the air. Dad was buzzing around in a way he hadn’t done in weeks, toasting bread at the Aga, chatting to Ness and Katy and – for reasons that were unclear to me – wearing a fez. I raised my eyebrows inquisitively at Ness but she just shrugged, smiling. Dad was a law unto himself.
‘Piglet!’ Dad exclaimed, as we came in. ‘And Hailey! Sit down and have some breakfast!’ Malcolm leaped excitedly around the kitchen, a big wet monster who loved us madly. Dad gave him a piece of toast and tried to look remorseful when Mum told him off. ‘Here’s to an exciting new chapter,’ he announced, as we sat down to eat. Mum smiled secretively and we listened, now interested.
‘I’ve been suffering a bit of a malfunction in the happiness department,’ Dad said reflectively. ‘But I woke up this morning and felt certain that my mother would be pelting me with kiwis if she knew I was moping around.’ He sniggered. ‘She was an absolute bloody tyrant, my mother,’ he admitted.
Everyone laughed and toasted Granny Helen.
‘So I’ve decided to have some fun,’ he continued. ‘Those hippies have it sewn up with all their chanting and essential oils.’
Katy nodded knowledgeably; Ness and I exchanged confused glances.
Dad carried on: ‘We got up this morning and wrote letters of resignation,’ he said proudly, putting his arm round Mum’s shoulders. ‘East Linton clearly doesn’t seem to need a surgery any more and we’re feeling the call of the wild!’
‘Oh, God,’ Hailey muttered.
‘We’re off to India again!’ Dad shouted. ‘But this time we’re going for a long time! Until Christmas!’
I gasped and Ness clapped. ‘Fucking amazing!’ Katy yelled.
‘Katherine …’ Mum started, but Katy had enveloped her in a hug.
I began to say that I should probably pay for this holiday, given that my broken leg had ruined their last Indian adventure, but Dad interrupted, ‘No more four-star hotels for us, Piglet. We’re going backpacking.’
‘Brilliant,’ Hailey cried. ‘Oh, how I love the Lamberts.’
Dad went on to tell his gobsmacked audience that they wanted to start off in an ashram, for some ‘spiritual enlightenment’, and then take on India’s rusty old train network. ‘I want some curry,’ Dad enthused. ‘And mangoes. And some God!’
As we ate breakfast, plotting, planning and laughing, I found myself thinking what a shame it was that Sam had had to leave so early. He’d have loved the atmosphere and the nonsense and the bacon. And Dad, too. That was the good thing about Sam. He thought my family were great.
‘What about you, Charlotte?’ Dad asked gently. ‘What will you do next?’
I thought about it. The truth of the matter, of course, was that I had no idea. My life was stretching before me looking alarmingly empty – apart from First Date Aid – and while I was happy I’d escaped Salutech, I couldn’t pretend I felt very confident.
Perhaps sensing my fear, Dad patted me on the back. ‘It doesn’t matter what you do, my piglet. You’re free! Roam the country at leisure! Jump in a bog! Roll in a field! Dump on a tump!’
‘Dad, you’re insane!’
I told my parents for the first time about First Date Aid and was surprised by the extent of their enthusiasm for it.
‘My, oh, my,’ Dad exclaimed. ‘You cheeky little Cupid … If Jane leaves me for a handsome young Indian, I’ll be sure to sign up.’
Mum ignored him. ‘Will you be able to earn a living from it, Charley?’ she asked anxiously.
I told them about the huge boost that Sam had given the business since we’d become partners, getting us important media coverage, opening up our services to men and transforming the website from something nice and functional to something so fabulous you’d want to pay us just to look at it. ‘He’s been absolutely incredible!’ I enthused.
‘Charleypops’s business is brilliant,’ Hailey told my parents firmly. ‘You should be very proud. There was this woman who looked like a decomposing vegetable, and Charley got her a date with the best-looking man in Brighton! That’s how good she is!’
‘Oh, Sonia,’ I recalled. ‘Yeah, I worked really hard for her. When she wrote back the day after to tell me how it went, I nearly took the train to London to give her a hug! The poor girl had absolutely no confidence in herself and it was great to be able to help.’
‘You love this,’ Ness said, watching my face. ‘You never talked about Salutech like that.’
Katy agreed. ‘Yeah, you just went all corporate and wankerish when you talked about work.’
‘Hear hear!’ Dad shouted. ‘Our clever, brave little piglet, striking out on her own! Cheers!’
We all chinked orange juices and I beamed. But underneath the warmth of the moment sadness tugged insidiously at me. The sadness was called Sam. Sam Bowes – without whom First Date Aid would have been no more than a hobby – was probably letting himself out of my flat for what might be the last time. He was moving on to bigger, better things, his lazy green eyes now full of purpose and ambition. It was the end of an era. And that sucked.
Much later, once Ness, Katy and Hailey had left and I’d given Mum and Dad’s house a good clean, rearranged the pictures in my old bedroom, walked Malcolm again and written a formal letter of resignation to Salutech, I lay on my bed and tried to chill.
I discovered within about thirty seconds that Taking
It Easy was a very difficult business.
After a few minutes I went downstairs and made some herbal tea, forcing myself back to the sofa to drink it. I tried to breathe slowly and deeply, like enlightened people did. In … and out. In … and out.
DO SOME FIRST DATE AID EMAILS, my brain screeched. OR GO AND BUY A NEWSPAPER. OR CLEAN THE OVEN. MAYBE DO ALL THREE. PREFERABLY NOW.
I opened an eye and saw Malcolm sitting in front of me, looking puzzled. ‘I’m trying to chill,’ I told him. ‘Trying to just, you know, be.’
He looked doubtful.
When my phone rang a few minutes later, I jumped to it as if my life depended on it. Quite how I was going to maintain good mental health without work was a mystery.
It was Shelley, calling to tell me about another investors’ event she’d got Sam and me into next week. Strangely, when I’d emailed her last week, thanking her for getting us into the Balmoral conference but explaining – honestly, I supposed – that we had been unable to secure funding, she hadn’t seemed too bothered. No problem, there’ll be other opps, she’d written back, her mind obviously elsewhere. Shelley didn’t normally talk like this. Now she was back on it again. ‘It’s another dinner,’ she barked. ‘At the Kitchin. Private hire, the whole place will be closed for this event. You two MUST go. Great opportunity for the business.’
I smiled. Somewhere along the line I had grown to like Shelley Cartwright, in spite of her steam-train approach to communication. And I was very touched that she was so keen to help First Date Aid. ‘I’ll go,’ I said. ‘But it’ll be just one person for the guest list. Sam’s moved to London.’
There was a brief silence. ‘Oh,’ Shelley said eventually, obviously disgruntled.
Immediately I felt insulted. Did she think I was incapable of doing it without Sam? ‘Shelley, I’ll be absolutely fine on my own,’ I said, probably a little too defensively. ‘I was running this company alone for quite a while before Sam joined me and I’ve been working in the corporate world for more than ten years.’
‘Have you now?’ Shelley mused. She was clearly somewhere else.
A Passionate Love Affair with a Total Stranger Page 29