The Charmer

by Mandasue Heller

  Blushing, Maria shook her head.

  ‘Yeah, she has,’ Vicky said. ‘’Cos she spoke to you ages ago, and you said you’d tell me, but you didn’t. So, what’ve you got to say for yourself?’

  ‘Humblest apologies,’ Leroy drawled, flashing a pure white grin as he gave Maria a penitent bow. ‘Mind like a fishnet stocking, I’m afraid.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Maria said, liking his easy manner.

  Down the hall, the toilet flushed.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Vicky moaned. ‘One of the kids must have heard you coming in.’

  ‘Nah, it’s your big ’un,’ Leroy said, heading for the kitchen. ‘Met up with him down the snooker hall, so he said he’d come back for a blow. Skin up while you’re doing nothing.’

  Just then another man came in. He was tall, and very broad in a rugby-player kind of way, with really dark hair and an incredibly handsome face. Staring at him, Maria couldn’t believe that the last time she had seen him he’d been smaller than her, with a scruffy old bike and dirty legs. Boy, he’d changed.

  ‘Look who’s here,’ Vicky was saying to him, giving him a teasing smile.

  Looking at Maria, he nodded hello. His eyes, which were the exact same hazel shade as Vicky’s, showed a vague recollection.

  ‘Hi, Davy,’ Maria said, tipping her head to one side. ‘Don’t you remember me?’

  Realisation dawned.

  ‘Christ, Maria!’ he said, his voice so deep compared to the last time she’d heard him speak that it gave her a start. ‘Wow! When did you get here?’

  ‘A couple of hours ago,’ she said, feeling a little tearful all of a sudden. Smiling and blinking rapidly to hold the emotion at bay, she said, ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve changed.’

  ‘Told you,’ Vicky said, pride rich in her voice. ‘He’s a babe, isn’t he?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Davy murmured, his eyebrows puckering together with embarrassment.

  ‘You look really well,’ Maria said. ‘What are you doing with yourself?’

  ‘He manages the Asda in the precinct,’ Vicky told her before Davy had a chance to open his mouth.

  ‘Really?’ Maria said approvingly. ‘You’re not even twenty yet, are you?’

  ‘Just turned,’ he said, shrugging shyly.

  ‘Never guess it to look at him, would you?’ Vicky said. ‘He’s so responsible, it’s sickening. Got a gorgeous flat, as well,’ she said then, giving Maria a conspiratorial look. ‘His girlfriend’s a model – fancies herself as a bit of an interior designer. But we won’t talk about that, will we, David ?’

  Maria smiled bemusedly. Vicky was obviously making fun of him, but Davy didn’t look too impressed.

  ‘Me and Nicola don’t get on,’ Vicky explained quietly. ‘We’ve got what you’d call a clash of personalities – I’ve got one, she hasn’t,’ she added in a whisper.

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Davy moaned, sitting down on the other chair. ‘She’s okay. You’ve just got to give yourself time to get to know her.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Vicky murmured coolly. ‘I already gave her more time than she deserved, and she’s still a stuck-up madam. And I wish she’d stop calling you David, ’cos it really gets on my tits. It’s like she’s trying to posh you up – and you don’t need that. You’re lovely as you are.’

  ‘All right, stop moaning,’ Davy said, as if he’d heard it all before. ‘You’re boring Maria.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Maria assured him, amused that scruffy little Davy had turned into such a hunk and landed himself a social-climbing model girlfriend.

  Coming back in just then, Leroy tossed a can of beer to Davy.

  ‘Bit of a reunion going on here?’ he said, opening his own can and flopping down onto a chair with one leg sprawled over the arm. ‘Must be kinda weird.’

  ‘It is,’ Maria agreed, still looking at Davy. ‘You were nine last time I saw you.’

  ‘And madly in love with you,’ Vicky cut in, grinning slyly. ‘Remember how he used to follow you around?’

  ‘All right, that’s enough,’ Davy said, ripping the tab off his can. ‘So, what have you been doing with yourself, Maria? Married? Kids?’

  ‘Neither.’ Maria shook her head. ‘I went to uni, then had a job teaching art for a while. But I’m living back here now.’

  ‘Yeah, Vicky was saying. Not planning to pick up the teaching again?’

  ‘No!’ she said adamantly. ‘I’m not sure what I want to do yet. I’m just lazing about at the moment, getting to grips with the house.’

  ‘Bought somewhere already?’

  ‘No – actually, I inherited it from an aunt.’

  ‘Really?’ Vicky drew her head back. ‘I didn’t know you had one.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Maria told her, sighing. ‘It’s a long story, but, briefly, I got a letter from a solicitor on my twenty-first, saying I was the sole beneficiary of some woman’s will. When I came up to sort it out, it turned out to be my father’s sister. Apparently, my mum left my dad when she was pregnant and they didn’t hear from her again. Then, when she was killed, this aunt saw it on the news and got a private detective to track me down.’

  ‘Did she apply for custody?’ Vicky asked, lighting the spliff that she’d rolled.

  ‘No, she just got the detectives to send yearly reports. Then she died, and I inherited everything.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re loaded, are you?’ Vicky asked without a trace of envy or rancour.

  ‘A bit.’ Maria gave a modest shrug. ‘Doesn’t really feel like anything, though. I’m just getting used to owning the house. And I suppose the money’s a bonus, because I can pay the bills without worrying. I’ve got a fair bit invested, and that’s doing all right, but I’m not sitting on it watching it, so I forget about it half the time.’

  ‘Well, forget some of it this way whenever you feel like it,’ Vicky laughed, offering her the spliff.

  Shaking her head, Maria said, ‘Do you need some? I’d be happy to—’

  ‘No, I was only joking,’ Vicky assured her, leaning forward to pass the smoke to Leroy. ‘You know what they say about lending money to friends and family – don’t!’

  ‘Oh, right, so you won’t be asking to borrow off me again, then?’ Davy said good-naturedly.

  ‘Don’t even go there,’ Vicky said, dipping a finger in her glass and flicking it at him. ‘You’re forgetting who brought you up when mam was shagging her way round the pubs, mate! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be bossing all those girls around in your shop, you’d be collecting trolleys in the car park!’

  ‘Don’t start, you two,’ Leroy said wearily. ‘You’ve got a guest, in case you’ve forgotten.’

  ‘Maria’s not a guest,’ Vicky scoffed. ‘She’s my bestie.’ Turning to Maria then, she said, ‘Remind me to show you where the kettle is before you go, by the way, ’cos if you think I’m running round after you every time you come, you’ve got another think coming.’

  Maria took a cab home at two. Saying goodbye to Davy and Leroy, she hugged Vicky at the door and thanked her for a great night, and promised to give her a call and arrange a night out – just the two of them.

  A few streets from the house, the taxi passed a car with several men inside it driving slowly along. Maria gazed at them disinterestedly, wondering if they were looking for a party somewhere. But she soon forgot about them when they were out of sight.

  Paying the driver when they reached the gate, she walked briskly up the path and opened the door. Locking up after herself, she shrugged out of her jacket, relishing the heat after the cold outside. Getting the heating system updated had been one of her better investments in the house by far – that and the new super-shower. That was blissful.

  Heading straight to the kitchen, Maria made herself a cup of hot chocolate and carried it up to the bedroom, looking forward to getting into her pyjamas. She never wore them when Joel was home, but when she was alone she loved the feel of the soft satin against her skin.

  Going to the bedroom
window to draw the curtains, she spotted the same car that she’d just seen driving slowly by, only now it was cruising along at the far end of the road. She knew it was the same one because it looked odd, being so low to the ground. Curious now, because this definitely wasn’t the kind of area for late-night parties, she watched to see where it went. But it didn’t stop, so when it disappeared around the corner after a moment Maria drew the curtains and got ready for bed.

  ‘This is Francine,’ Honey said, dragging a sulky-looking girl with long dark hair over to Joel as the party began to wind down. ‘She’s bi.’

  ‘By what?’ Joel asked distractedly. He’d just had an amazing chat with Liam Gallagher about football, of all things, and he was still mulling it over.

  ‘Bisexual,’ Honey said, rolling her eyes. ‘Remember the sandwich? Well, she’s the brown bread, I’m the white – and you can be the beef filling.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Frowning, Joel looked down at her eager young face.

  ‘Do you want to fuck us both, or not?’ Francine said bluntly, giving him a sultry look. ‘Make your mind up, ’cos I’ve got loads of possibilities lined up if you don’t.’

  ‘Please say yes,’ Honey pleaded, gripping his arm and jumping on the spot. ‘I need to rehearse. I’ve already let her finger me down in the orchestra pit, but I need us to get like proper naked to see if I can pull it off.’

  Joel felt his dick stirring to life. They were such a contrasting pair – Honey so light and fluffy, Francine so dark and moody.

  And Liam had gone now, so there was no chance of another chat.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, checking out Francine’s large, still-firm tits. ‘But don’t fight over me, ladies. I’m more than enough for both of you.’

  21

  Maria saw the same car again the next day. It was parked up opposite the shops when she walked round to the bus stop.

  Sitting down on the narrow plastic bench in the tiny Perspex shelter, she deliberately looked in the direction the bus would be coming from, not wanting the men in the car to think that she was being nosy. But her curiosity was definitely roused now, because they certainly couldn’t still be looking for a party.

  Still, it really was none of her business.

  She’d arranged to meet up with Nigel while Joel was away. Maria didn’t like to go to meetings when he was home, because he liked her to stay with him when he had a rare bit of free time. But if she was honest, the real reason she didn’t like to consult with Nigel when Joel was around was because she didn’t want it to seem as if the financial advice Joel had given her wasn’t good enough. He was such a sensitive soul in some ways, and she didn’t want to insult him: she’d come to rely on him pretty heavily since he’d been living with her.

  But she didn’t feel too guilty about today’s meeting because they wouldn’t be discussing the money, as such. Nigel was going to talk her through the maintenance programme for the house that Elsie Davidson had adhered to for so many years. It was overdue, apparently, and Nigel was strongly advising her to consider contacting the firm who usually dealt with it soon, or to think about contracting somebody else to do the work before it adversely affected the insurance.

  Maria could have passed it over to Joel, she supposed, but she didn’t want to lump this onto him when he’d already taken so many burdens off her shoulders. It was time she stopped being so needy and sorted her own problems out.

  Anyway, business aside, it would be nice to catch up with Nigel and see how he was getting on in his apartment. He’d been so excited about it last time she spoke to him, declaring it the best decision he’d ever made. And it seemed he was right, because he’d certainly come out of his shell since he’d resolved to live independently. He was far more confident these days, and seemed much more at ease in his own skin than the blushing, apologetic man she had first met had been.

  Stepping forward when the bus came into view, Maria caught sight of one of the men in the car looking straight at her. It gave her a bit of a start, but she quickly shrugged it off. She obviously wasn’t getting out as much as she should if she’d forgotten about men and their roving eyes. It wasn’t personal, they just couldn’t seem to help themselves. He probably had a perfectly lovely wife and kids waiting for him at home. Then again, maybe not, if all he had to do with his time was kerb-crawl with his mates for nights on end.

  Boarding the bus, she walked to the back and sat down. Glancing back when the bus had pulled off, she felt a thrill of fear when she saw the car turning around in the road and falling in behind the two cars that were behind the bus. Facing forward again, she clutched at her handbag, wondering if they were following her.

  But no – that was too ridiculous for words. Just because she’d looked at the man? What was he going to go? Beat her up for being nosy? Ask her for a date?

  Turning the corner when they reached the Princess Parkway junction, Maria dared to take a peek out of the corner of her eye. She almost cried out when she saw that the car was still there, the man in the front passenger seat staring straight up at her.

  What should she do? Call the police and tell them to meet her at the other end? Because . . . ?

  She had no proof that she was being followed. No reason to believe she was in danger. The police would tell her she was overreacting, and they’d be right.

  Maria was so nervous by the time they reached the terminus at Piccadilly that she didn’t even look back to see if the car was still there. Jumping off the bus, she rushed through the milling shoppers, desperate for the safety of Nigel’s cool quiet offices. Making a mad dash down Market Street, she yanked the smoked-glass door open – only to bump straight into Nigel as he came out to meet her.

  ‘Whoa!’ he said, smiling brightly as he reached out to steady her. ‘Where’s the fire?’

  Panting hard, Maria shook her head and pushed him back inside.

  Concerned now as she stood with her back against the wall catching her breath, Nigel said, ‘What’s happened? You haven’t been mugged, have you? Oh, God! I knew I should have picked you up. It’s awful round here on a Saturday – so many gangs looking for victims. Are you hurt?’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Maria managed at last. ‘Really . . . I was just a bit spooked.’

  ‘By what?’ Nigel asked, leading her to the couch and sitting her down while he went to fetch her a coffee.

  Feeling a bit stupid now that she was here and no madmen had come busting in behind her, Maria rolled her eyes and gave a small self-effacing smile.

  ‘My overactive imagination, apparently,’ she said, thanking him for the coffee. ‘I thought I was being followed. But nothing’s happened, so I obviously invented it.’

  ‘Want to come into my office and tell me about it?’ Nigel asked kindly, noticing that Maria’s gaze was straying towards the doors. She was obviously scared that somebody was out there, despite her words to the contrary. ‘You might feel more comfortable in there. I need to lock up, though,’ he said then, standing up and taking the keys out of his pocket. ‘Don’t mind, do you? Only it’s the policy outside of office hours.’

  ‘No, of course I don’t mind,’ Maria said, frowning now. ‘But I didn’t realise you weren’t usually open at the weekend. This isn’t the first time we’ve had meetings on a Saturday. Don’t tell me you only come in for me?’

  ‘I honestly don’t mind,’ Nigel assured her, locking the street door and giving the handle a tug so she could see it was secure.

  ‘Oh, no, I feel terrible now,’ Maria said, following him to his office. ‘I honestly thought you worked Saturdays, but gave the receptionist the day off.’

  ‘Will you quit beating yourself up?’ Nigel told her firmly. ‘I live about two minutes away from here. I could actually walk here faster than I can drive – if I wasn’t such a lazy caraholic. But, all that aside, I really don’t mind, because I can always find things to do. The minute I open my door, things jump out at me, screaming for attention. Better dealing with it when I know I won’t be d
isturbed by phone calls, don’t you think?’

  ‘Better if you stayed home and relaxed, like you’re supposed to,’ Maria said, giving him a meaningful look.

  ‘I happen to find work quite relaxing,’ Nigel said, taking his seat. ‘I know that makes me something of an oddity, but it’s a habit I developed a long time ago. Believe me, if you knew my mother, you’d understand. Anyway . . . shall we get this over with?’

  They finished within an hour, with Maria agreeing that she would retain the same maintenance firm, and Nigel agreeing to arrange things.

  ‘Well, that was pretty straightforward,’ Nigel said, putting the file away. ‘Anything else you’d like to discuss while you’re here?’

  ‘No, everything else is fine,’ Maria told him, not wanting to get into the investment stuff because she was sure she had put his nose out of joint when she’d told him she didn’t need him to look after that for her. ‘Fancy going for a sandwich, or something? It’s almost lunchtime, and it’s the least I can do for bringing you to work on your day off.’

  Nigel pursed his lips thoughtfully, wondering if he dared make the suggestion that had just sprung into his mind.

  ‘If you’ve something else to do, don’t worry about it,’ Maria said, sensing his hesitation. ‘I won’t be offended.’

  ‘No, it’s not that,’ Nigel said, feeling nervous now. ‘I was just wondering if you’d like to come to see the apartment? Please say no if you don’t want to, but I’ve told you so much about the place, and . . . well, I’d love your opinion. And I can rustle up a chicken salad if you’d like to stay for lunch.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Maria asked. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

  ‘It’s no trouble at all,’ he assured her, smiling shyly. ‘To be honest, I could do with your advice.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’m, er, not too good at the old fixtures-and-fittings lark,’ Nigel said, shrugging sheepishly. ‘I love the place, but I’m finding the kitchen a little restrictive, so I thought I’d invest in a new unit. I was hoping you’d be able to give me some suggestions.’