by Nikki Ashton
“Oh hi, Kerry’s mum and Esme are still sleeping, so I don’t want to disturb them.” His breath became a little sharper as Charlotte guessed he was going down the stairs. She heard a door shut, and then he spoke in a more audible tone. “Right, sorry about that, what’s wrong, it’s not Kerry is it?”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed, of course it was Kerry, what did he expect after his little bombshell? “Actually, it is Kerry; how could you tell her that you are going on a date?”
“I didn’t. I'm not. It’s a load of us from work, but Beth and I have to work late so we are meeting everyone at the pub, the pub where her auntie Irene works, so I didn’t want her telling Kerry that I had walked in with another woman, that’s all. Why, does she think I’m going on a date?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted her to think?”
“No,” Kelvin’s voice was petulant. “Well maybe, oh I don’t know.”
Charlotte sighed heavily. “Oh grow up Kelvin. I know that you are having a bad time, but what a stupid thing to do when you are trying to save your marriage.”
“I know and I’m sorry.” He sounded suitably chastised.
“Look, I’ll call over tomorrow with Esme’s presents, but in case we’re not able to talk, I’m asking you now, as a friend and a grown up. Be nice to Kerry while she’s with you at Christmas. She’s your wife remember who, if I’m not mistaken, is trying to change things.”
“I know, and I understand what you are saying, and I promise to make an effort.”
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte replaced the receiver, enough was enough. She had tried her best, and she had Mr Devine to deal with, but Charlotte knew that no matter what she said she would always be there for them.
Chapter 16
Charlotte drove to work almost in a daze, worrying about everything going on in everyone else’s life, so by the time she got there, she already had a headache. Arriving on the car park she noticed with horror that a Silver Audi R8 was parked there.
“Shit, why can’t he just drop off the face of the earth and leave me alone!” She then quickly reapplied her lipstick, and tousled her hair, mustering up some courage to make her way to the office.
With some relief, she managed to make it to her desk without bumping into Niall. She shot Bobby a venomous look when he asked her if she’d seen the gorgeous car on the car park.
“Yeah, it’s a prick mobile,” she muttered, and then louder; “It belongs to Mr Devine from Johnson & Cathcart.” She looked up sharply as she heard Laura’s snort of derision behind her. “Is something wrong Laura?”
“Nothing, I’ve just got a frog in my throat.” Laura flashed one of her most winning smiles at Charlotte.
The clattering of a door against a cupboard announced Gwen’s arrival as Charlotte turned to hang her coat up.
“Charlotte, have you seen that beautiful Irishman with Paul?” she cried, dropping a ream of time sheets.
Bobby stooped to pick them up for her. “Huh, more to the point have you seen his car?”
Gwen nodded confirmation. “I bet that he’s got a few bob, seems like a nice young man for you Charlotte.”
Charlotte spun around on her high heels. “NO," she snapped, a little too vehemently. "I'm sorry. No thank you Gwen. I think I can look after my own love life. Remember your nephew, Neville?” Charlotte shuddered as she recalled a disastrous meeting with Gwen’s nephew. It had been Gwen’s attempt at matchmaking at her fiftieth birthday party, and Charlotte still had nightmares about his blue angora tank top and brown wool trousers.
“Hmm, quite,” Gwen sighed, turning back to her desk.
“Now if we could get some work done,” said Charlotte taking a sneaky glance outside at the offending silver car.
After about half an hour of trying to look busy, Charlotte began to feel restless. She needed to get out of the office, away from Gwen’s questioning looks each time she sneakily turned over a tarot card in her drawer. Charlotte guessed that it was probably hers, and Niall Devine’s future that Gwen was trying to foresee.
“I’m just going over to the canteen Laura to order some lunch, if anyone calls take a message would you?”
Laura nodded, and chewed on the pencil in her mouth. “I can’t get you in Paul’s office then?” she asked smiling warmly, yet rather scarily.
“No,” said Charlotte quizzically. “I’m going to the canteen as I said.” She shook her head and left the office with a furrowed brow.
Once outside the door Charlotte didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want to order any lunch; she was planning on a quick visit to the supermarket at lunchtime. She couldn’t go and see Paul because Devine would be there. Anyway, she was frowning too much, and it really wasn’t very attractive. She decided that she would go and visit the support staff in their office across the courtyard. Charlotte pushed the door open, anxious for some fresh air, when at that moment, the Royal Mail van shot past on its way out. The regular driver tooted merrily, and waved to Charlotte, ignoring completely the rather large, rather dirty puddle of water he was just about to drive through. It was too late for Charlotte to move out of the way; as the wheels screeched through the water, it sprayed in her direction.
“Shit!” Charlotte stared at her sodden white blouse, plastered to her chest. Huge droplets of murky water dripped from her hair onto her face, and she could already feel the dampness from her skirt seeping through to her stockings. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Charlotte wanted to cry as she tuned to return to the office. She needed to get herself dry and clean. Opening the door, she heard Paul’s familiar tone, followed by an Irish twang.
“Double shit,” she muttered, desperately thinking about what to do. She could either go back to the office and risk bumping into them, or make a run for the canteen, but then she would be in full view of Paul and Devine through the windows all along the corridor. She spotted the enormous round metal bin that stood about seven feet high, and made her decision – hide. Flattening herself against it, Charlotte heaved a massive sigh of relief.
“Phew made it,” she gasped.
“Made what?” Paul’s head appeared around to her hiding place.
“Paul I didn’t hear you. I thought that you had…oh shit!” She smiled weakly as she spotted Niall behind him; arms folded with a huge grin enveloping his stupid, handsome face.
“Charlotte, what are you doing scrabbling behind the bin, and what have you done?” Paul nodded towards her chest as Charlotte glanced down at her heaving bosom.
“Oh…”
“Shit,” Niall finished her sentence for her.
As she gazed down Charlotte remembered that she had worn a see-through bra under her blouse, and so her erect nipples were showing in their entire prime.
“Ha, I think that’s what they mean by it being a bit nippy.” She laughed at her joke, desperate to hide her embarrassment, and her nipples.
“I think that you had better go and sort yourself out, don’t you?” Paul sighed. “I was coming to find you to tell you that Niall is taking us both out to lunch; a celebration on signing the contracts. Would 12:30 give you enough time to get cleaned up?”
Charlotte nodded silently, sucking her bottom lip and realising that protesting would do no good.
“Look forward to seeing more of you then Miss Price.” Niall winked as he walked towards the canteen with Paul, not noticing that Charlotte was giving him the bird.
Once they were both out of sight, Charlotte slopped her way back to the office, trying to hide her chest with her hands. As she walked in Gwen looked up from her calculator, and gasped loudly, alerting both Laura and Bobby.
“Oh dear what on earth happened to you?” Gwen asked, as she emerged from behind her desk with a handful of tissues. She passed them to Charlotte
“It’s a long story, but I’ve got to get cleaned up ready to go to lunch by 12:30.” Charlotte grabbed the tissues, before placing her spread-eagled hand back over her chest. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t think Paul will take no for an an
swer, and I’m damn sure Mr Devine won’t,” she muttered, guessing that Niall would be looking on this as a great opportunity to get at her.
Gwen suddenly sprang into action. “Right, get that skirt off, oh okay go into the lavatory first if you must,” she sighed, in response to the look of horror on Charlotte’s face. “Laura can go into town for you and buy a new blouse. I'll nip to the canteen and sort your skirt out, good job its black, by the way, and you can delve into that emergency chest of yours and start a restoration job on your hair and make-up.”
“How will you get my skirt dry, and clean though?”
“I have my ways. Did you never do survival skills at Brownies?” Charlotte shook her head solemnly.
“What shall I do?” Bobby asked.
“The accounts,” answered Charlotte, reaching behind her desk for her handbag. “Here you are Laura, take this money. If you can get something like this, but not as see through obviously, that would be great, size 12 please. Oh, and there should be enough left over to get everyone a cake.”
“Right okay, but how am I going to get there. The next bus isn’t for half an hour?” Gwen and Charlotte both looked at Bobby.
“Huh, huh, okay, come on, but don’t move the seat, its set especially at my wife’s leg length.”
Once Laura and Bobby had gone to town, Gwen passed Charlotte the old communal cardigan that was hanging on the rack. Everyone had worn it at some stage when they were cold, and it was now a little worse for wear.
“Take your skirt off and tie this around your waist.”
“Okay,” Charlotte replied, immediately acting on orders. “There you go.” She passed her short, wet skirt to Gwen, who instantly rushed through the door, ready for her part in the operation.
Charlotte opened her bottom drawer and removed her repair kit; hair dryer, extra hold up stockings, hair band, comb, perfume, make-up, deodorant and spare black knickers (leaving behind a spare white pair). She gathered everything in her arms and ran to the toilet, glad to be locked in, away from the danger of prying eyes. Charlotte looked in the mirror, amazed at the damage one rather large puddle could make. Her blouse was drying in creases. Her hair had succumbed to the murky water and was now starting to frizz up, while her make-up was very Alice Cooper. Dispirited by the horrific sight, Charlotte set about trying to restore herself to her former glory. At first, she tried to pull a comb through her hair, but when she broke three teeth, she decided that tying it back may be best option. Once it was tied into a ponytail, Charlotte felt better, despite almost gouging a piece of her scalp with the comb. She had taken out most of the dampness with some paper towels and then plugged in her hair dryer to dry it through, once it had been scraped back. Twenty minutes from start to finish and Charlotte emerged, still wearing the creased blouse and cardigan, but with an elegant ponytail and perfect make-up.
Gwen, who was now back from the canteen, was impressed. “Gosh what a transformation; apart from your clothes of course. Here you go,” she said, passing a warm, clean skirt to Charlotte.
Charlotte looked at it in awe. “Gwen it’s brilliant, clean, dry and not creased. How on earth did you manage it?” she asked, giving Gwen a huge hug.
“Well I sponged it down, and popped it in the oven on a low heat for five minutes and then placed it flat on the table with greaseproof paper over the top and rolled it with a rolling pin.” Gwen preened, obviously exalted that she was the saviour of the day.
“Well it’s fantastic,” laughed Charlotte slipping it back on.
Just as she was zipping it up, a breathless Laura and Bobby ran into the room, and collapsed onto chairs.
“H-h-here you are.” Laura, barely able to speak, thrust a bag a Charlotte. “We just made it,” she gasped, looking up at the clock that said 12:20.
“Oh thanks guys, you’ve been absolute life savers; you really have. Did you get some cakes?” called Charlotte over her shoulder as she ran back to the toilet to change.
“Huh, oh yes,” said Bobby, “big ones.”
Charlotte waited anxiously for Paul and Niall to “pick her up” from the office. She knew that she should really go down to meet them in Paul’s office, but if she were being honest, she was actually putting off the moment.
“So where are you going for lunch then?” Gwen asked, wiping the cream from her hands with a baby wipe.
“Don’t know,” Charlotte replied, somewhat distracted.
“Huh, will you get to ride in the Audi R8 then?” Bobby asked, still stuffing his face.
“I don’t know, tell me how three of us are supposed to get in anyway?” Charlotte snapped, nerves getting the better of her.
“Paul could drive and you could sit on Mr Devine’s knee.”
Charlotte shot a murderous glance at Laura, daring her to make another ridiculous comment. Just as Laura opened her mouth to take up the dare, the door swung wide and in glided Mr Devine himself.
“Oh, I am in the right place then?” he asked, flashing a dazzling smile at everyone, except Charlotte.
Charlotte gasped, as like dogs after a bitch on heat, they all crowded around him, including Bobby, their big cakes forgotten.
“Well it depends who you are looking for,” gushed Gwen, in response to Niall’s question.
“And who might you be, lovely young lady?” Niall responded with a reward of gleaming white teeth.
“Over sincere bastard,” Charlotte muttered to his back, which had been obviously turned to her. Suddenly, he twisted his head around to look at her; Charlotte smiled, not very warmly. “Just saying the post over, here is faster.” She held up an unopened letter; Niall turned back to Gwen.
After almost ten minutes of idle banter with her staff, Charlotte had had enough. She couldn’t watch the big, handsome, Irish pillock with the beautiful smile, tight bottom, and large hands and well cut suit any longer; he was distracting her staff! Charlotte stood up and walked towards the group huddled together, all the time staring at his strong, toned back that she could make out through his shirt, now that he had discarded his jacket.
“Oh,” Niall said, pausing to glance behind him. “It looks like your boss lady is ready to go. Sorry for keeping them from working, but I didn’t think that you would mind me being pleasant; it doesn’t do to appear contemptuous or rude. Anyway,” he said without missing a beat, or even looking at Charlotte to acknowledge her description of him, “I had better be off; we have a table booked for lunch.” Without waiting for Charlotte, Niall strode to the door, waved and was gone, leaving a captured audience behind. Charlotte glanced at them, shook her head and ran after him.
Niall and Paul were walking through to reception as Charlotte trotted up, Paul smiled but Niall did not acknowledge her appearance.
“Are we going in two cars?” Charlotte asked, as they stopped while Paul spoke to Debbie on reception.
“No,” snapped Niall. “Paul has offered to drive.” As they approached the door, he turned to face her. “Can I suggest that you move?” He glanced up at the ceiling, nodding at some mistletoe that Debbie had stuck up there. “You never know when some over sincere bastard might grab you for a Christmas kiss.”
Charlotte coloured up, she couldn’t believe that someone could ignore someone so blatantly, yet know exactly what they were doing or saying at all times. As Niall walked out to the car park, Charlotte hung back to speak to Paul, who had now finished talking with Debbie.
“Paul, please don’t make me come for lunch, I hate him,” she hissed, glancing through the glass doors at her tormentor.
Paul tutted loudly, “Don’t be so ridiculous Charlotte; hate is a very strong word. You hardly know the man.”
“I know enough about him to know he’s a plonker.” Charlotte frowned, and jutted her bottom lip out. Paul had just opened his mouth to speak, when Charlotte’s mobile rang out the theme to “Scooby Doo”. She glanced at the screen; it was Bets. “I’ll be quick,” she hissed, as Paul shook his head in despair and walked out to Niall. “Hi Bets. Be quick, I’m
on my way out to lunch with Paul and the Irish tosser.”
“Oh, okay, perhaps I’d best call you tonight. Laura said you’d gone to lunch, so to call your mobile, but she didn’t say with whom. How cosy is that then?” Bets laughed on the other end.
“No it isn’t cosy. It's a nightmare. What is that noise?” Charlotte asked, gasping at the ear-splitting sound in the background.
“Oh, Jane is giving a 20 stone drag artist a Brazilian. Anyway, it’s only a nightmare because you fancy him.”
“I do not,” Charlotte cried. “How dare you, and why is a man having a Brazilian, surely that’s illegal?”
“No it isn’t and don’t change the subject. Look go and have your lunch, and I’ll call you later, oh and Charlotte.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget to swap your ring over.” With that she was gone.
Charlotte threw her mobile into her bag and quickly swapped her ring over, whilst checking that neither Paul nor Niall was watching.
“Sorry about that,” simpered Charlotte, joining them in the car park. “It was an important business call.”
“Hmm, very conscientious,” muttered Niall and walked ahead with Paul.
Charlotte almost ran after them, catching them up at Paul’s battered old MG sport’s car. “Well, who is going in the back then?” Charlotte asked, looking expectantly at Niall.
“Well Niall can’t can he? You are much smaller and will fit on the shelf quite nicely.” Paul said, already pushing the front seat forward. “It would make more sense.”
Charlotte gazed at the tight space that she would have to fit into, grateful for the fact that she had not inherited her Granny Joan’s thighs and bottom. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, hoping that Niall would not be watching her manoeuvre.
But he was. He stood behind Charlotte, like a statue with his arms folded. “Go on then,” he urged.
“But I’m not sure I’ll fit,” she cried, suddenly hating Paul for having such a stupid car.