They hadn't been wonderful parents, either, not really. If Charlotte ever got into any trouble, they'd just yell at her till she cried, and thought that was problem solved. They'd never sat down with her to try to resolve anything or to help her steer an easier passage through her sometimes troubled growing-up years.
The young Charlotte had longed for the kind of resolution she read about in books, saw in family shows on the telly. No uncontrolled raging, but proper consequences for actions, teaching her the error of her ways, helping her to be a better person.
She'd always wanted that.
But no one in her life ever wanted to give it to her.
She hoped Ben would.
Their family and friends came back to the house after the funeral. A couple of Mum's friends got the food ready. Charlotte talked to everybody, introduced Connor to those he'd never met. It was a sociable occasion, the sort her dad would have enjoyed.
"Come out for a drink tonight?" Tracy asked. "With me and Rob?"
"I don't know…" Charlotte glanced at her mum, sitting on the sofa with her sister, Charlotte's Auntie Kath.
"Auntie Kath and Uncle Pete are staying with her tonight for a few hours. They told me. You come out with us," Tracy coaxed. "It'll do you good to get out a bit."
Charlotte's mum agreed. "Yes, go out. You haven't been out with your friends since you got here."
The pub was busy even though it was midweek. They ordered real ales, and Connor and Rob started talking about work, while Charlotte and Tracy discussed the funeral, and how Charlotte's mum would manage when she and Connor flew back to Australia.
"She's got lots of friends," Tracy said. "It'll take time, but she'll be okay." She lowered her voice. "How's it all going for you in Australia?"
"It's okay. It was hard being so far away, hearing about Dad."
"'Course it was. But you got back quick."
"Yeah." Charlotte looked around the pub, the low beams, the roaring fire. "We came here just before Connor and I got married, do you remember?"
Tracy nodded, sipped her beer.
"You told me it wasn't too late to back out."
Tracy grinned. "Yes. I remember."
"Why did you do that?"
Tracy glanced at Connor to see if he was listening. He and Rob were deep in conversation about insulation of all the most boring subjects on the planet.
"You remember once I asked you why you were getting married?"
"Yeah. Vaguely." They'd been in Tracy and Rob's living room. Rob was at the football, she and Tracy had opened a bottle.
"And you said 'Because Connor really loves me'."
"So?" Charlotte lifted her glass, took a sip of beer.
"And that worried me," said Tracy. "Because you didn't say that you loved him."
Charlotte had never loved Connor in the heady Hollywood movie sense of the word. She hadn't been obsessed with him. Her life had never revolved around him. She hadn't even had a crush on him when they first met.
They had started out as friends. Well, not even that, really. As strangers thrown together on a bushwalking tour in Tasmania, four years ago. Charlotte and a London friend had travelled together to Australia for four weeks' holiday. They had spent the first three weeks backpacking in Sydney and country New South Wales. Then her friend had gone to stay with relatives in Melbourne. Charlotte, a keen walker, had signed up for a six-day bushwalking holiday on the Overland track.
When she'd met up with the bushwalking tour group, she and Connor had been the only two people travelling solo. The remaining walkers comprised three couples, and two Japanese girls who were backpacking around Australia. So she and Connor had ended up walking together on day one, getting to know one another as they scrambled up to Marions Lookout and walked along the base of Cradle Mountain.
He'd told her he'd recently been dumped by his wife, and was taking a week's holiday in the bush to clear his head.
They'd talked about work. Connor had been a designer in a publishing house then, and they'd discussed the lack of job stability in an already-challenged industry.
They'd talked about walks they'd done, mountains they'd climbed, places they'd like to visit in the future.
At the huts along the track, they'd talked late into the night about sports they enjoyed, and then about more intimate things. Connor admitted he hadn't really wanted to marry Deborah, but felt he had to do the right thing when they discovered she was pregnant. Over the six days they'd become friends.
They'd stayed in touch, writing letters, when she'd returned to the UK. The following year he'd visited London for a month. There, their relationship had become physical, and when she'd lost her job, he'd offered her an alternative. Why not come to Australia with him?
She could tell that Connor really loved her, doted on her even. Sure, she wasn't 'in love', but she enjoyed his company, liked exploring new places and taking long walks with him. They spent hours talking, sitting up till well after midnight.
And importantly for Charlotte he didn't want kids. Other men she'd dated had hinted that they'd like to be a dad one day, but Connor had already been there, done that. Charlotte had never wanted children, preferred to stay focused on her career. They both wanted to travel, explore. To spend weekends climbing mountains not getting caught up in hours of domestic drudgery.
And Charlotte, at the time, believed that was enough. After all, she'd already seen three friends get divorced from the guy they had proclaimed they were oh, so very much in love with. Crushes, lust, heart-flipping love died, but friendship, companionship, the joy of being in someone's company, well, that lasted forever. So she was happy to stick with Connor, to marry him and migrate to Australia. She thought it would be an adventure, that they'd have a fun-filled life together. They'd be a real couple, not like Mum and Dad.
Now she knew that she'd been wrong.
"Hey," said Rob, interrupting Charlotte's reverie. "Has there been much publicity in Australia about that missing backpacker? Marie Beckham?"
"Yeah, there has," said Charlotte. "She was on the news all the time for a while. It's all quietened down a bit now though."
"I suppose that's why her parents have decided to offer a reward for information," said Rob. "About twenty thousand pounds. You two should see if you can find out anything. Bit of extra money."
"Yeah," said Tracy. "You'd have the journalistic skills, Lottie."
"There's no chance of them finding her alive," Connor said. "Somebody knows what's happened to her and they're keeping quiet."
"Maybe they'll talk now there's money involved," Charlotte said.
"It's her parents I feel sorry for," said Rob. "It must be awful for them."
"Terrible," said Tracy, and they all took another swig of beer.
Seventeen
Tracy drove them to the airport. Mum sat in the back of the car with Charlotte, holding her hand. Every now and then she dabbed at her eyes. "I don't want you to go," she said.
Charlotte didn't want to go. She didn't know what to say to her mum, just squeezed her hand and wiped away her own tears.
Connor couldn't wait to fly home. His mood had been upbeat all morning. There was a spring in his step when he carried their bags to the car.
"Perhaps I'll visit you. Come out for Christmas," Mum said, shoving her handkerchief in her coat pocket.
"That would be great," said Connor.
"Yes," said Charlotte. "You should definitely come next summer. I mean our summer, you know, come for Christmas."
Mum clung to her till she absolutely had to go through Customs. Once they were through, Connor strode towards the boarding gate, eager to be on the plane back to Australia. Charlotte wondered what she was doing in the airport lounge when she wanted to be in the car with Mum and Tracy, heading back to her childhood home.
You have a job there and not here.
You own a house there and not here.
But you have a family—friends—a life here and not there.
Connor didn't noti
ce her downbeat mood. He buried himself in a newspaper once they were in their seats. Charlotte wondered what work would be like. She'd called Greg on the Saturday they left, and he'd said reluctantly she could have an extra day's bereavement leave because she had so far to travel. For the rest, she was out of annual leave, so she'd have to take unpaid leave. "Perhaps you could interview a British Olympic sportswoman while you're over there," he'd suggested. "Then you could claim it as a part-work trip, get some tax deductions."
Charlotte hadn't bothered with that. The two weeks in Wales had been hectic, helping Mum sort out Dad's financial affairs and catching up with friends.
She hadn't checked her Miss Scarlet email either, hadn't been near an internet café or library. She'd barely thought about Ben when she was in Wales. The days were so busy, and it had been great to spend time with old friends. And Connor had been different in Wales, more assertive, less anxious. He was twelve thousand miles away from work, Deborah, and everything that stressed him.
Would be revert to normal when they got back? Or was his standing up to his parents the start of a new pattern by which he'd no longer let others rule his life? Charlotte clung on to that hope. She wanted to be happy with Connor. Otherwise she was just going back to an empty life. Right now she didn't want to meet Ben at all. Would being spanked help her get a social life, a better paid job, change all the other things that caused friction between her and Connor?
Of course not.
"You'll be able to get back to your writing once we're home," said Connor, when the first airline meal came round.
She hadn't spared Death Vault a thought either. In fact, since that initial burst of enthusiasm, she hadn't written a word of Death Vault. Before Dad died, she'd been too busy emailing Ben to care about fictional journalists investigating the death of pretend coaches.
"I guess," she said.
"You don't sound like you want to."
"It doesn't seem so important now, after all this."
"Your dad wouldn't want you to give up on your writing."
Wouldn't he? People always came out with that bullshit after a death. Auntie Kath had said to Mum, "Mike wouldn't want you to sit around the house crying, missing him," when absolutely that was what Dad would bloody want—to be missed. Charlotte didn't recall her dad being interested in her childhood writing ambitions or in her career, though he'd been chuffed when she got a job on a sports magazine. "I guess not," she said. "But work's going to be crazy when I get back." She'd have to get an issue together in half the usual time, because there was no one covering her job. "I'll probably end up working all hours, no time to write a novel."
When they finally arrived home, nearly thirty hours later, Charlotte was struck by how clean the air smelled in their leafy street, relished the heat seeping into her skin. She was glad to see their house too. Even though it was small, it was bigger than her parents' and the rooms were less cluttered. "Shall we order in pizza?" Connor asked as they dumped their bags on the bedroom floor. Charlotte nodded. It was early evening. Pizza, a glass of wine and early bed would help them combat jet lag and get up early next morning.
But their peace was shattered when Connor checked the answerphone. There were a few messages from their work colleagues and Connor's brother offering condolences. But the two that caused friction were from Connor's father and Deborah.
"Connor, it's Dad here. This is just to say we took Josh back to the airport earlier and he was a bit upset that he hadn't seen you for his second week down here. The week's gone okay but really, your mum and I aren't the best age to look after a thirteen-year-old. And we haven't got a computer at home to keep him entertained. Anyway, I hope everything went all right over there. I suppose I'll see you soon."
Charlotte glanced at Connor. His face was grim.
"Connor, it's Deborah. I just picked up Josh from the airport. Look, I'm a bit pissed off really, because he hasn't really had a good time with your parents. And it was you he wanted to see. He only came down because he misses you. I don't see why you couldn't have waited a week to go over. I'm sure the funeral could have been held up given the circumstances. Anyway, it might be an idea for you to have a few days up here if you can manage it, take him out a bit. Maybe a long weekend soon, to make up for it? It's hard for him to understand at his age why he comes second to some dead old person on the other side of the world."
"Fucking bitch," Charlotte said. "Who does she think she is? Why should my dad's funeral have been delayed because he died inconveniently for her?"
Connor ran a hand through his hair. He picked up the phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Josh."
"For God's sake! Can't that wait?" Charlotte knew how that would pan out. He'd get to speak to Josh for ten minutes, but get berated by Deborah for half an hour.
"He's upset. They both said—"
"Yeah. They. Not him. And what they mean is they're upset. Your mum and dad didn't want to look after him to start with. They were determined to find it difficult regardless. And Deborah doesn't like it because just for once something had to come before her precious son's needs."
"I know, but—"
"So leave it! Let's have pizza, a wine, go to bed. You can call Josh tomorrow. He won't even know you're back right now, will he?"
"Yeah, I told Deborah the date we'd be back."
"For fuck's sake, why?"
"Because she needs to know where I am in case anything happens to Josh."
Charlotte had had enough. She was tired, hungry, grieving for her father, feeling guilty about leaving her mother, and missing her friends. "Just one bloody night, Connor! Let's just have one night before she starts organising our lives again! I hope you don't intend to go up to Queensland in the next few weeks, because I need you right now, okay?" She saw the discomfort in his face. "You're going to go there, aren't you?" she said, resigned.
"Only for a long weekend," he said in that deliberately jovial tone he used when he was aware she wouldn't like what he had to say. "You come too."
"I have no leave, remember?"
He stood up, tried to take her in his arms. "You don't know how hard this is for me."
Hard for him? Charlotte raised her hand. She'd make it fucking hard for him, all right.
He gripped her wrist. "Don't start that."
"Then stick up for yourself! Tell her you won't go to Queensland!"
"I did miss out on seeing Josh, you know."
"And I miss out on my family and friends all the time. I hadn't seen my dad for two whole years before he died. How do you think that makes me feel?" She kicked out at him.
Connor backed away. God, she wanted to thump him. She didn't want him backing away. She wanted him to take control of this situation. Say no to Deborah. Stop Charlotte's tantrum escalating by spanking her.
"Don't start behaving like a spoilt brat, Charlotte. It drives us apart, you know that."
"And you know, I said you could treat me like a child if I behaved like one."
The look he gave her was pure scorn. "Don't start all that again. Don't you think we have enough on our plates without that shit?"
Charlotte reeled from his words, from the expression on his face. "Oh go ahead," she said. "Call her. Call your precious Deborah. Go up to Queensland. You probably want to shag her anyway. God knows you never want to shag me." When he didn't reply, she added, "All this trouble because your parents can't look after their grandchild for one fucking week. It's pathetic."
She flounced out of the room, unpacked her bag with a fierce energy she hadn't possessed half an hour ago. She heard Connor on the phone, worked out that he was going to head to Queensland at the end of February. Leaving Friday, coming back Monday. He confirmed this when he joined her in the bedroom. She didn't reply.
"I've booked pizzas as well."
Charlotte ignored him. She went to the office and shut the door, leaving him to his unpacking. Why the hell had she come back here? It had been so hard for her to leave Mum
and her friends, and as soon as she and Connor set foot in Melbourne, the friction had started. Because of his bloody family. As usual.
His family never supported him, just made demands. None of this would ever change. Cave-In Connor would always appease Demanding Deborah, as long as Josh was a minor and could be used as a pawn in her stupid games.
Charlotte made up her mind.
She turned on the computer and went online.
Time to organise those disciplinary sessions with Ben.
From: Ben Dover
To: Miss Scarlet
Hi Charlotte,
Are you back from Wales yet? I hope your father's funeral went as well as these things can. It must be a real wrench for you to have to leave your mum and family and return to Australia.
This is just to let you know that I'm still willing to meet up when you are ready. I shall understand if you have changed your mind though. You may need time to adjust and to grieve.
With warm wishes,
Ben
From: Miss Scarlet
To: Ben Dover
Hi Ben,
Thanks for your email and your good wishes. My father's funeral went well. Lots of people attended and he had a really good send off. But yes, it was hard to leave my mum and family and friends. Harder than when I migrated, actually.
We got back a little while ago. I'm back at work tomorrow. No doubt there'll be a pile of work to catch up on.
I am still very much interested in you being my disciplinarian. Connor continues to show no interest in meeting this need for me. I feel more out of control than ever right now, and really want to be accountable to somebody. When do you think we should meet? I don't have any leave now, unfortunately, though I'll be putting in a lot of extra hours to get the next issue out on time, so I may have a day off in lieu in a couple of weeks.
From: Ben Dover
To: Miss Scarlet
Hi Charlotte,
Once you definitely have a day off, let me know when it is and I can work around it. I suggest we meet for lunch at a mutually convenient café. After we've met we can work out where to go from there.
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