by J. E. Warren
Anna smiles. “So about that girl, did you guys end up together or was it just a one-time thing?”
“Well, for a start she was much too nice for me. I didn’t really see much of her again or make any effort to, which as you can imagine was super awkward, because we lived next to each for over a year. It was a dickish move on my part, but then again I was young. Had no experience with relationships. She was probably left completely unsatisfied.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure you were great.”
“No comment.”
“Well, I think you’re great.” She smiles whilst fishing out the last joint from the Tupperware. “One more before bed?”
“Sure.” He watches as she lights it and casually takes a hit, like she’s now a pro. It makes him giggle.
She sighs as the smoke escapes her lips. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
Anna pauses and scrunches up her mouth before leaning back to quietly whisper. “I’ve not been with anyone like you before. I know it’s not—the done thing or whatever to talk about it, but no one’s ever made me come the way you do. It’s actually enjoyable. Really enjoyable. Hands down, no guys ever gone down on me like you did, Charlie. It was…insane.”
“Which time?”
“The first and all the rest, of course.” Anna winks.
He isn’t sure how best to reply, still half laughing at her outburst and still half in shock to hear it. Thus far he’s been unaware of her feelings and thoughts about their sex life, something he hopes she’s been enjoying but hadn’t been one hundred percent sure of.
“Glad you enjoyed it. I enjoy it too, of course. More than enjoy, actually.”
“It’s just different with you and us. I used to hate all the insecurities and all the disappointment—lights off, not coming, feeling like being good at sex was only meant for people in the movies. Now it’s the opposite,” Anna says and he believes every word. “Just thought you might like to know that I really do love being with you, like that.”
“I do, and of course so do I. I think you underestimate just how crazy you drive me. In the best way possible.”
She begins to laugh, and with tears in her eyes she says slowly, “Oh God, I’m sorry—what a weird conversation! I think I’m quite high. Actually scratch that, I’m very, very high. And it feels god damn amazing. But I also feel a bit wobbly.”
“That’s what usually happens.” He smiles. Experience lends him the knowledge of how to deal with it and so he takes her delicate, cold hand to gently walk her back into the house. Charlie enjoys the ticklish sensation of her laughter in the crook of his neck until they reach the en suite in her bedroom.
“I said I’m stoned, babe, not that I need the toilet.” She giggles when he turns on the shower, running it warm until the glass panels steam up.
“I know, but trust me. If I’ve learnt anything from my time smoking at Uni it’s that a hot shower works wonders to minimise the effects,” he explains. “That, and brushing your teeth does too. Seriously, try it.”
“Liar. You just want to see me get naked.” Anna’s already taking off her clothes with wild abandon and she wipes away steam to draw a heart, followed by something altogether cruder.
“It works, I swear, and I’m going to wait outside until you’re done, okay?” He doesn’t get far before she’s pulling at the waistband of his jeans, lifting up his shirt until he’s naked too. She steps into the shower and her playful laughter echoes off the tile walls.
“I thought this might mellow you out, but you’re still just as nuts.”
“Jump in!” she shouts, splashing him with water and a squirt of shower gel. “Come on, be wild for once!”
Retrieving his boxer shorts from the cold floor, Charlie shakes his head and blows a kiss as he shuts the door.
Outside, he tidies up to destroy any evidence of crumpled joint butts and to clear up the UNO cards Anna scattered all over the table when he declined to play. In the bedroom he thinks it’s worth getting her pyjamas from under her pillowcase, and when he slides back into the bathroom he notices she’s drawn even ruder doodles into the condensation. Giving her a little more time, he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen and locks all the doors.
He returns to the bathroom to find her making faces in the mirror as she brushes her teeth. Anna spots him behind her and tells him he’s right.
“I do feel much better, actually. Like really content. And nice. No more wobbles.”
“Told you.”
“My hero.” She snorts, spraying toothpaste everywhere, which sets her off into a giggling heap on the cold tiled floor. “Babe…” she says slowly after she’s caught back her breath. “I think it’s time for bed now.”
Climbing in under the covers, Charlie waits for her to settle beside him. He realises shortly after that she’s sans pyjamas as her hand weaves up to his chest.
“Why do you still have clothes on? Get those pants off, mister.” Her hand changes course and dips below his shorts.
He’s torn between what she’s doing and wanting to just hold her in his arms. A euphoric haze takes over his sense, which is mellow and calming. Still, he feels stirring below and the palm of her warm hand moving up and down.
“Anna, what are you doing?”
“You,” she replies bluntly.
“I can feel that. I mean, aren’t you tired?” He laughs, gently moving her hand back to his chest because he feels like he’s got a lot to say. It’s in his veins—three words swimming throughout his head and heart.
Tracing the dark moles along her collarbone, he whispers, “I love you, Anna.”
“I know.”
Charlie says it again. “I mean I do, really.”
Moving closer, she lifts up his arm and rests her head down. “I know. Just because you don’t say it every day or night doesn’t mean you don’t.”
He’s pretty sure that time stops. That or he’s just really high, because she keeps on softly kissing him, whispering back that she loves him too. It gives him relief to know that money can’t buy the love she has for him as she pushes her back against his body.
And when he moves in close to kiss the crook of her neck he hears a faint, familiar hum. Just another surprise Anna’s been waiting to bestow upon him.
In his arms, warm and content, she quietly and softly sings back the song he might as well have written for her.
Chapter Thirteen
Anna
June 5th 2009
Glancing at the time on her watch, Anna thinks it’s absolutely fine to order another glass of wine, because even though it’s only two in the afternoon in her city, it’s five o’clock in someone else’s.
And that’s fine by her.
Because not only is it Friday—a perfect a day as any to indulge in a liquid lunch—it’s also technically her first lunch break without having any need to rush back to the office. It’s a feeling she wants to savour. Really take the time to sit back and drink in the hazy afternoon, along with the rest of the red wine.
As Anna casts her gaze round the Square Mile, at all the shiny high-rise buildings suffocating in their shards of glass under the glare of the hot sun, she thinks she’s damn well earned the right to relax under the awning of the far too posh-for-her café—at two in the afternoon, running up a high tab on her former boss’s loyalty card without any shred of guilt.
It’s a final fuck you and it feels great.
But what she hadn’t quite anticipated as the hours tick by is the uneasy feeling of shame that builds with every sip. The complete opposite of her original intentions to just sit back, get drunk, and forget.
However, she knows deep down that she can’t just sit there forever, nor can she hide the truth for the rest of the day. Not least from Charlie. Still, there’s a bit of time left to desperately drink away the reality that she is now very much, disgracefully unemployed. Yet no amount of Cabernet Sauvignon can make that an easy word to swallow.
Peering down below th
e café table, she opens the small paper bag with the stupid gold monogram on it and pulls out the hastily typed up and utterly generic reference letter they’d thrust in her hand as she left. She starts to think that she might have been an idiot to believe she was safe from all the budget cuts and redundancies. That all her unofficial sick days and late starts might go unnoticed in such a large office.
It feels awful to have been so unbelievably stupid and wrong. Which is why, when Anna takes out her phone to call Charlie, she has to swallow what little pride she’s got left. Get off her high horse and suck up the fact that she’s now in the same position as him. Worse off, even, as he still had work to keep him going, even if it is part-time and pays a pittance. She really has no right to judge now.
She realises that she’s not only jobless but also a drunken hypocrite. The fact that he sounds upbeat when he answers her call doesn’t help.
“Can you meet me for lunch?” she asks, getting straight to the point.
“Right now?”
“Yeah. Today. Now.” She knows she’s being demanding at such short notice but she suspects it won’t be long before the wine settles in her empty stomach. Experience reminds her that it usually doesn’t bode well on public transport or cobbled, busy London streets.
Charlie sounds confused. “I thought you had an important meeting this afternoon. You told me this morning, remember?”
The blood rushing in her ears distorts her voice. “I did.”
“Besides, isn’t it a little past lunchtime now? It’s gone four o’clock.”
“Oh, is it? I hadn’t even realised.”
“Anna…” he says slowly. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
She thinks one last sip of wine won’t hurt to help get the words out, and she pauses to knock back the last few drops for a boost of courage until they slip out almost effortlessly.
“Yeah, about that…I don’t actually work there anymore.”
If Charlie’s trying hard not to sound shocked, then he’s not hiding it well, because he’s stuttering and not making much sense. She holds the phone away and brings it back once he sounds like he can formulate words again.
“Shit. Wow, that’s not good. I’m so sorry.”
She can feel there are a lot of questions due her way and she tells him she’ll explain all in person. That he might want to get a wiggle on too before she makes the mistake of drinking more.
“Of course, hold tight, I’ll be there soon as I can.”
Between hazy thoughts, Anna wonders how she’d cope without having him to fall back on. In times of need he feels like a constant. Makes hard times a little more bearable. The type of guy to top up her glass when it runs half empty, to make it full again.
Even if she does whine and moan, say silly things and sometimes loose her rag, she knows that she can count on him.
And when the sun starts to dip below the glass buildings and the waiter tries again to free up the table, Charlie appears just as promised.
As she watches him wait by the traffic lights to cross, she can’t help but giggle at the sight of him. He’s in light khaki shorts that skim his sun-starved white knees and a dark button down t-shirt. It looks like he’s run all the way from home to meet her. Sweaty and dishevelled in contrast to the slick city workers swarming by.
Anna thinks that she can’t fit any more love inside her heart for him as he crosses quickly, throwing his hands up at an oncoming taxicab that’s not slowing down. Unable to fully make out what he mouths to the irate cab driver, she imagines in her wine-induced state that Charlie’s saying how he’s in a rush to lend his strong, sturdy shoulders to his newly unemployed, drunk girlfriend so she can wipe her tears of despair onto them.
“Sorry I’m late. Tried to get here as fast as I could without getting mowed down,” he says, out of breath. He looks up at the café and hesitates to pull out a chair.
She laughs, gently kicks it out for him. “Don’t worry, lunch is on me today, babe.”
“No, it’s all right. I’ve already eaten. Besides, isn’t this the place that charges for tap water?”
“Correct, but I’ve got this.” She waves the gold loyalty card. “So treat yourself, I know I have been.”
He just frowns. “I can see that, but whose card is it?”
“Old boss’s, she gave it to me last week when she was in dire need of a pan au chocolat. Sure she won’t miss it anytime soon. Loads of points left on it—I’ve checked.”
Charlie still shakes his head, pushes away the menu card, and idly hovers.
“Just sit down, would you?”
Anna checks there’s not any wine left in the bottle as the waiter idles by the door. His nose turns up at the sight of Charlie joining the table. Like he’s never seen a pair of torn trainers before or a ratty old guitar case, which is still slung over his shoulder in its usual position.
When he finally takes a seat, he reaches for her hand under the table. “I’m really sorry, Anna. I understand if you don’t really feel like talking about it, but I’m all ears if you do.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.” She’s not too sure who she’s trying to convince. The words feel alien and out of sync with what’s going on in her head.
“‘Fine’ usually translates to the exact opposite, but again, we don’t have to discuss it if you’d rather not.”
She begins to mumble. “To be honest, there’s not much to discuss. There’s been a lot of talk about budget cuts and overstaffing these past couple of months, so I should have seen it coming.”
“Still, it seems like they could have given you some warning?”
She shrugs and signals for the waiter to top up her glass, which doesn’t appear to impress Charlie. Again he frowns at her.
“Don’t make that face at me. One more won’t hurt.”
“It will in the morning.” He sighs deeply, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Just take it easy.”
Anna thinks that’s the whole point, why she’s drinking in the first place—to dull the shitty feeling in the pit of her stomach so that she’ll wake up and hopefully not remember, at least for a couple more hours.
“Daisy’s well upset.” She quickly tries to change the subject, even though she locks eyes with the waiter to confirm her order when Charlie’s not watching.
“They fired her too?”
She notes the surprise in his voice, corrects him. “No, they didn’t, but she’s mad at them on my behalf. She’s already called a few times to say she’s holed up in the toilets to avoid them. You know what Daisy’s like—she’s worried about saying something to them for me. Tells me that Lucy and Marissa have already cleared out my desk and drawer, the fucking vultures.”
“Did they have anything to do with it?”
“Maybe, but who knows for sure. It was just one of the managers who broke the news. Should have known what was in store when he asked me into his office.”
Charlie squeezes her hand again. “Don’t they have to give you a notice period? I’m obviously no expert on employment regulations, but it seems pretty abrupt to tell you to leave right then and there.”
Anna’s aware that he’s not stupid, that he’ll figure it out eventually; she’s just not sure how to tell him. How can she admit to being the one to storm out after without him judging? He’ll probably frown when she confesses to telling them to shove the offer of seeing out the month where the sun didn’t shine. Which is something she now regrets, but in the heat of the moment it felt right.
Still, she isn’t the type to go back on her word or grovel for her last paycheck, no matter how much it might help.
“Well, the thing is, they kind of did, but I just couldn’t stand the thought of having to work there for another couple of weeks. I’d rather walk out with my head held high than have to spend another minute in that place.”
Pushing back his hair to fan a napkin against his face, Charlie nods and assures her she did the right thing even if his expression and body language says otherwise.
“Sorry to have dragged you here. I just didn’t want to sit by myself any longer.”
“It’s fine. I came from the guitar shop, had to get some new strings and sort out extra shifts for next week.” He smiles and Anna notices the dimples in his cheeks grow large, how cute they are, how much she wants to kiss, poke them.
“That’s good. Extra shifts mean extra money, which will come in handy now that you’ll have to support your lay-about girlfriend.”
“Don’t talk like that, Anna. You’ll land back on your feet, trust me. You’re way more employable than the rest of us and I should know, being somewhat of an expert.”
She laughs properly for the first time all day. “You can joke all you like but you’re the breadwinner now, Charlie.”
“Hardly. I’ll help out where I can. I won’t let you wallow in Pot Noodles and microwave dinners.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you,” she teases, knocking over the bag beside her as she kicks out her leg. Dipping below the table to grab it, she bangs her head on the metal leg because she’s taken aback by the fact that Charlie’s fly zipper is very much undone.
He jumps up too at the sound of her head colliding beneath him.
“Anna, you okay? What are you doing down there?” he says quickly, steadying the rocking table and the wine glass. The giggles get the better of her and it takes a lot of deep, controlled breathing before she can muster the energy to point down at his crotch, to whisper that he might want to take a look himself.
“You’re flying pretty low down there, Charlie.” Hand to mouth, she tries to stop the laughter. “If you catch my drift.”
“What?”
“Are you wearing underwear today?” she tries again, pointing under the table until her finger brushes against the fabric of his shorts, and then the metal zipper.
“No, but seriously, what are you doing?” There are people around, Anna.” His eyes are wide and his cheeks flush. “Why are you trying to poke my, you know…thing?”
She prods again. “Your fly is undone. I’ve seen it all. Including your thing.”