The Charmer

by Mandasue Heller

  They’d been asked to leave then, which had pissed Joel off big time. He should have walked there and then, but, stupidly, he’d gone back to her flat because it was so late and he was a bit the worse for wear. He’d gone straight to bed to avoid the scene that was ready to boil over, and slept right through till now – almost four in the afternoon.

  He really had to watch how much coke he was doing. He was having more difficulty getting to sleep in the first place, then it was murder waking up once he had. He’d hit that stage where nothing was ever enough. Before, two lines would have had him buzzing all night. Now he needed a couple of grams just to feel right. And he was getting irritable, too. He’d bitten Maria’s head off a few times for absolutely no reason. But, fortunately, she was too caring to punish him for it.

  Angela, on the other hand, was about to get her head bitten off, chewed and spat right back up her amoral backside.

  ‘I said, who were you talking to?’ she repeated now, her voice rising. ‘Don’t try to fucking ignore me, Joel. You know I’ll flip if you start fucking about with me!’

  Turning on her, Joel felt an urge to punch her. His hands actually balled into fists, but he managed to stop himself. Angela was the type to phone the police and scream rape and battery.

  ‘Go on,’ she challenged him spitefully. ‘Do it! You know you want to. Cut me and bruise me, and show the world what you’re really all about!’

  ‘I’m getting out of here,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘And this time, I won’t be coming back. You are one screw short of a fucking Meccano set, Angela, and I’ve totally fucking had it with you. Now do me one favour and keep your screeching fucking mouth shut while I get my things!’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she snarled, shaking her head, her mouth pursed so tight in her pale face that it looked like an arsehole. ‘There’s no way you’re walking out on me! Who do you think you are? You come here and use me for the fucking week, then take off like it meant nothing.’

  ‘It didn’t mean anything,’ he spat back at her. ‘I thought you’d have sussed that one out a long time ago.’

  ‘So why do you keep coming back to me?’

  ‘I don’t come back to you,’ Joel said nastily, going for the kill. ‘I come to fuck you in ways that no decent woman would dream of letting me! You’re a fucking freak, and I would never be sick or desperate enough to want you in my life in any kind of meaningful way. Now I’m going home to my beautiful girlfriend, to make love to her.’

  ‘I’ll kill you,’ Angela hissed, her wild-eyed stare shooting venom into him as he snatched up his jacket and checked his pockets. ‘And the bitch you’re so keen to get back to! Was that her on the phone just now?’

  ‘None of your business,’ he said, reaching under the mattress for his wallet.

  ‘Come on . . .’ she sneered. ‘We all know what a faithless little charmer you really are. How did you get this one? Find her sucking cock in your mother’s womb?’

  ‘Fuck you,’ Joel snarled, barely restraining himself now. ‘Don’t you ever fucking talk about my mother. You’re not fit to lick the crap out of her toilet.’

  ‘Touched a nerve, have we?’ Angela spat. ‘Maybe it’s Mummy you’re rushing home to, eh? Got your favourite knickers on today, has she?’

  ‘You sick, twisted piece of shit!’ Joel yelled. ‘Don’t ever come near me again, Angela – I’m warning you. Because I will really hurt you.’

  Jumping up, Angela flew at him in a frenzy, her naked flesh repulsing him as it brushed across his clothes.

  ‘Give me your phone!’ she screamed, struggling to get at his pockets. ‘I’m gonna ring the bitch and tell her what you’ve been doing to me! See if she still wants you after that!’

  Putting his hands on her shoulders, Joel shoved her forcefully off, slamming her into the wall. The back of her head made a hollow sound as it banged against the hard surface. Collapsing in a heap, Angela started to wail, a horrible thin, high-pitched sound.

  Fearing that he’d done some real damage, Joel stood and looked at her for a moment. Then he saw her eyes dart up, checking to see if he was watching, and he knew that she was faking it. Shaking his head, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Good thing she didn’t know where he lived, because he had no doubt she’d have flown there on her broomstick to tell Maria all about it.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Maria cried, throwing her arms around Joel and dropping little kisses all over his face. ‘Oh, you don’t know how much I love you!’

  ‘Not as much as I love you,’ he said, lifting her off her feet and walking her into the kitchen. ‘Hope you’ve got my wine ready, ’cos I have had a mother of a week.’

  ‘Was she awful?’ Maria asked sympathetically. Wriggling down, she went to fetch their drinks and waved him through to the couch.

  ‘Who?’ Joel asked, frowning as he flopped down. ‘Oh, you mean Cher . . . No, she was great. It was the venues I was having a problem with. They’re not too good at getting things ready on time over there. But hey . . . it’s over now.’

  ‘Poor baby,’ Maria said soothingly. ‘Let me run you a bath. I’ll put some nice oils in it to help you relax.’

  ‘Go on, then,’ Joel said, sighing as the tension seeped out of his stiff shoulders.

  He would never go near Angela again. She was bad for his health.

  Maria was in the kitchen cooking dinner when she heard Joel’s mobile ringing. He usually carried it everywhere he went, in case he missed an important client. But today he’d been so shattered that he must have forgotten, and now he was napping in the bedroom.

  Licking garlic butter off her fingers, Maria wiped her hands and went to get the phone out of his jacket pocket, planning to take a message. She was about to say hello when a woman started shouting at the other end.

  ‘Don’t you dare hang up on me, you bastard! I’ve got things to say, and you will listen, whether you like it or not! I am not the kind of woman you can get away with treating like a cheap whore, so here’s your ultimatum: you get your arse back here – sharpish – or I will hunt you and that woman of yours down. And I will find you, believe me! I know where you hang out, I know which parties you go to, I know you, you bastard!’

  This was all rushed out and Maria wasn’t sure what she was hearing at first. But when the woman paused for breath the words filtered through. Sure that she must have got the wrong number, Maria was about to tell her when the shouting started up again.

  ‘Stop pretending you’re not there, Joel! Just because you’re not answering doesn’t mean I can’t hear you! Joel! JOEL . . .!’

  Disconnecting, Maria stared at the phone. No, she hadn’t just heard that! She couldn’t have. It was a wrong number. It had to be.

  But she’d said his name, and how many Joels had Maria ever met in her life? One.

  Shaking wildly, she sat down heavily on the couch. Seconds ticked by like hours and then, hesitantly, she looked up the number of the last incoming call. Remembering it, she checked it against Joel’s listed numbers. It was there, under the name ‘Angelo’.

  But that was a man’s name. What was going on?

  Glancing nervously at the door, she went into his messages. There were two that he hadn’t opened; they must have come in while she was out of the room and she hadn’t heard them.

  The first was short: ‘It’s in. Call me. Lance.’

  The other was longer – and far more upsetting: ‘Hey, hot stuff . . . still in2 dik after all. Fran nitemare – sacd hr off. Cm rnd 4 fuk. Already wet! Honey Bunny.’

  It took Maria a moment to work the text-talk out. But there was no mistaking the message when she did, and it made her feel sick to the stomach.

  Putting the phone back in Joel’s pocket, she went to finish the cooking. Turning the steak under the grill, the thoughts turned over and over in her head. Who was the madwoman, and why had she been shouting abuse at him? And Honey Bunny, who was still into dick and wanted him to come for a fuck – what the hell was t
hat about?

  ‘Something smells nice,’ Joel said, padding through from the bedroom in his boxers. ‘I was having a lovely dream that I was driving a Ferrari, then all of a sudden I’m at this barbecue, stuffing myself with sticky ribs. Mmmm . . .’ He looked over her shoulder at the steak. ‘Fantastic.’

  Sidestepping him before he could put his arms around her, Maria went to the sink and rinsed her hands.

  ‘Something wrong?’ Joel asked, picking one of the mushrooms out of the pan.

  Still not looking at him, Maria shook her head. Joel gave a bemused smile. What was this? Where were the doting little smiles and hugs?

  Moving towards her again, he slipped his hands under her arms and cupped her breasts.

  ‘What’s wrong, babe?’ He kissed her neck. ‘You missed me that much? Aw, don’t be sad . . . I’m home now.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Maria said, wriggling free and going to the opposite counter. Leaning back against it, she looked at him, searching his face for clues. Surely if he was messing about, there would be something in his eyes. But he looked the same as always.

  Oh, God . . . maybe she’d got it all wrong.

  No! She’d heard it, she’d seen it.

  ‘Who’s Angelo?’ she asked, spitting the name out.

  A frown flitted across Joel’s brow. Where had that come from? His eyes darted sideways to his jacket on the back of the couch. Shit! The phone!

  ‘A guy I work with,’ he said, preparing to get cross with her for prying.

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Maria folded her arms. ‘This guy sounds remarkably like a woman to me.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Joel demanded tetchily. ‘Shit, Maria, I’ve been working all week, and this is what I come home to – the Spanish fucking Inquisition. The name is fucking male. If you’d bothered looking properly, you’d have seen an O at the end, not a fucking A. Ange-lo.’

  ‘Don’t swear at me,’ Maria said quietly, trying not to cry. ‘And I’m not talking about the spelling, I’m talking about the woman who rang while you were asleep. Shouting at you for treating her like a – how did she put it – cheap whore!’

  ‘What . . . ?’ Joel muttered, looking confused. ‘What woman? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Sighing heavily and folding her arms tighter to stop the wild shaking of her body, Maria said, ‘You were asleep and your phone rang. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I answered it to take a message, and a woman started shouting about how you’d best not hang up, and you couldn’t get away with treating her like a whore, and how she’s going to hunt you and your woman down.’

  Fronting it out, Joel sneered. ‘Nothing to do with me. She must have got the wrong number.’

  ‘She said your name, Joel.’

  On the ball now, Joel shrugged. ‘You probably heard it wrong. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘She said your name – three times.’

  Turning to pour himself a glass of water from the tap, Joel quickly thought up an explanation.

  ‘I know what it’ll be,’ he said, turning back. ‘Angelo’s one of the guys I was working with on the Cher thing. He’ll have set this up for a laugh.’

  ‘What?’ Maria frowned. ‘What’s funny about it?’

  ‘It’s just the way those guys are,’ Joel said, leaning casually back against the sink and crossing his legs at the ankle. ‘We were all up to it while we were away – pulling tricks on each other, trying to land each other in it. You get bored, so you do whatever to relieve it. He’ll be paying me back for telling his wife he was having a sex change.’ Snorting softly, he shook his head and gazed at the floor, a small smile on his face as if he was remembering doing what he’d just said.

  ‘So, you think your friend Angelo got a woman to ring you and shout at you, on the off chance that I would answer the phone?’

  ‘Course. It’s obvious now I think about it.’

  ‘But I never answer it.’

  Joel was getting irritated now. ‘So you were lying when you said you just answered it?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Well, then you do answer it. Don’t you?’

  Maria frowned. He was getting angry now, and she was starting to feel guilty.

  ‘Do me a favour, eh?’ Joel said then, tipping the water down the sink and slamming the glass down on the ledge. ‘Don’t touch it again – not if you’re going to start accusing me of all sorts of bullshit! Christ! So much for trust.’

  ‘Who’s Honey Bunny?’ Maria called after him as he stalked out of the kitchen. She didn’t want to make him even more angry, but she had to know.

  ‘What?’ Turning back, Joel was positively scowling at her now.

  ‘Honey Bunny,’ she repeated, feeling a little afraid of him for the first time ever. ‘You’ve got a text.’

  ‘You are one step away from me walking out of here and never coming back,’ Joel hissed, his expression furious.

  ‘I need to know,’ Maria said, unable to stop herself. ‘Just tell me, Joel.’

  ‘Another fucking guy off the crew, if you must know,’ Joel snarled. ‘We all had nicknames. Angel, Honey Bunny, Dipstick, Dogbreath . . . Want me to go on?’ Shaking his head when she didn’t answer, he gave her a look that made her blood run cold, then turned and walked out.

  Snatching up his jacket, he stomped into the bedroom and locked the door.

  Dragging his clothes back on, he was still angry with her for snooping. How fucking dare she. And she reckoned she trusted him! Like fucking hell she did!

  Checking the texts when he’d finished, he felt a flood of relief when he saw Lance’s. See, the suspicious bitch hadn’t bothered quizzing him about that one! But at least the gear was in. He’d run out last night and now he desperately needed a line – thanks to bloody Maria pissing him off.

  The text from Honey made him smirk. So she’d sacked Francine off, had she. He’d known full well it would never last. Honey liked cock far too much to be satisfied with a finger.

  It crossed Joel’s mind that he’d been a bit rough on Maria considering she had actually seen Honey’s text. If he’d seen something like that on her phone, there was no way he’d have believed a lame excuse like the one he’d fed her.

  But that was her problem.

  His problem right now was how to get his hands on some quick cash. Angela had fleeced him this week, so he had nothing in his pockets. The bank was shut, and there was no way he could get enough out of the hole in the wall. He needed two grand, at least, to get a decent score.

  An idea sprang into his mind. It was a long shot, but it just might work.

  Pulling the chair over to the wardrobe, Joel stood on it and reached to the back of the top cupboard. Pulling Maria’s box of bits and pieces forward, he shoved the photo of her father aside and rummaged through the other stuff until he found the small black velvet drawstring bag. Checking that the diamond solitaire ring was still in it, he thrust it into his pocket and slid the box back into place.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Maria asked when he came out of the bedroom with his jacket on and headed for the front door.

  ‘Out,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t wait up – I doubt I’ll be back tonight.’

  He felt a bit guilty, because Maria had obviously been crying. But he couldn’t afford to let it drop right now or she’d expect him to stay in and make up, and he had to get to Lance before he started crawling the walls.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Maria called. But Joel carried on going as if he hadn’t heard.

  Maria couldn’t have felt more miserable after Joel left. She had completely screwed things up. Now he thought that she had been sneaking into his private affairs, and he was offended and angry. And she couldn’t blame him. She’d done nothing wrong in answering his phone but, instead of asking him what it was all about, she’d immediately assumed that he was cheating on her. Why did she have to be so damn suspicious?

  Her heart gave a lurch when her own mobile began to ring. Running to get it, praying that it was Jo
el, she was a bit deflated when she saw Nigel’s name on the screen. Sighing, she answered it.

  ‘Hello, Nigel, how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ he said, sounding quite serious. ‘Am I disturbing you?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she assured him. ‘I’m home alone, doing nothing. What’s up?’

  ‘You’re alone?’ Nigel repeated. ‘Do you think I could pop round for a minute? There’s something I need to talk to you about.’

  Maria hesitated before answering, and Nigel picked up on it immediately.

  ‘If you’d rather come in to the office, that’s fine. It’s just that I was on my way home, so I thought I’d save you the trouble.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Maria said decisively. ‘Come round. It’ll be lovely to see you.’

  Crossing her fingers when she’d disconnected, she hoped that Joel didn’t decide to come back to carry the argument on while Nigel was here. That would be so embarrassing.

  ‘Sorry for this,’ Nigel said when he was sitting on the couch ten minutes later. ‘I know it’s absolutely none of my concern, but I really felt I should check this with you for peace of mind’s sake. Because, well, you always insisted that you weren’t going to touch the original investments.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Maria affirmed, frowning. ‘And I haven’t. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Well, yes, actually,’ Nigel said hesitantly. ‘Given what you’ve just said, I believe there probably is.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Maria’s tone was as serious as his now.

  ‘Well, as you know, investment accounts have a maturity date, after which you either have to empty them or transfer the funds into a new account. Earlier today, it crossed my mind that one particularly large account was due to mature, so I got the paperwork out to check how much we would be talking about when I contacted you to discuss reinvestment. And that’s when I learned that a new account had already been opened.’