by Nikki Ashton
“Look, I told you yesterday, it was you who assumed that Tom was my boyfriend at the football,” cried Charlotte.
“But why let me go on thinking it?”
“But what business is it of yours; I don’t ask you about your love life.” Then a thought struck her. “You could have a wife and two kids for all I know.” Niall didn’t answer, so Charlotte carried on. “I admit that when Tom came over I should have introduced you properly, but I…”
“But you didn’t and let me make a fool of myself thinking all sorts about you.”
“Ha, that’s it isn’t it. I made a fool of you. That's what you can’t stand. Like I give a shit.”
“Charlotte, that’s enough.” Paul, who had just come to the room, stood grim faced, by the doorway. He moved towards them, rubbing a hand through his unruly curls. “I’m sorry for Charlotte’s language and behaviour Niall; she’s not normally like this.”
“Paul, please don’t apologise for me, he started it,” cried Charlotte, mortified.
“Charlotte, I’ve just said that’s enough. Niall I think that it would be best if you left.” Paul’s tone was measured, as he looked from one to the other.
“Paul, please it was just a spat over nothing, sure I’ve forgotten it already.” Niall looked distinctly uncomfortable, as he backed away to the door.
“Goodnight Niall, I’ll speak to you soon.” Paul waited for him to close the door before he turned back to Charlotte. “I’m not going to ask you what it was about, but I think that I can guess. I told you that it would turn out like this, and whether you think that he has a valid complaint or not, at the end of the day his company is one of our biggest clients, and this evening’s little fiasco does not make us look good. I don’t really care how he feels personally, but because of the business situation, I feel that we have some serious grovelling to do for him to change his opinion of us.”
“It’s not you or the business he is annoyed at; it's me,” Charlotte cried.
“You are my right hand woman Charlotte, the person that I have selected to run this office when we take over Palmer & Blunderstone, of course it’s the company, and of course, it’s me that he is annoyed with. Now if you don’t mind I’m pretty tired, so I’m going home. I suggest that you do the same and think about how we can win Mr Devine, the client, around. Goodnight Charlotte.”
“Night Paul.” Then she was left alone, feeling rather like she had when she had been eight years old and fed laxatives to next door's cat. Dad made her spend the evening in her room, thinking of the consequences of her actions. When she thought about it, the two incidents were the opposite sides of the same coin. One couldn’t stop shitting and the other was full of shit! Sighing heavily, Charlotte locked up her desk and left for home, looking forward to an evening gossiping at Bets’ flat.
Later, that evening Bets and Charlotte told each other about the day’s events. Needless to say Kerry did not turn up; she had called Bets previously to say that she was going to be having an early night.
“So, how do you feel now, after actually speaking to one of his family?” Charlotte asked.
“A little better actually, it has kind of put things into perspective.” Charlotte looked at Bets enquiringly, not sure what she meant. “Well,” Bets continued, “just think how they all must be feeling, and yet Emma was so brave about it all, at least trying to be, trying to get on with her life.”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes I understand what you mean,” she replied, “but it doesn’t mean that you should try to forget about him and what happened.”
“Oh God no, I couldn’t, not yet, but at least now I know that I made him happy, which, for some bizarre reason, makes things easier to cope with.” Bets sighed heavily.
“I can understand that too, it means that it wasn’t all a waste of time,” said Charlotte.
Bets nodded. “That’s it exactly; it was a meaningful relationship, no matter how short, because we made each other happy. Unlike you, and Mr Devine. You make each other as miserable as sin.” She giggled, cuffing Charlotte lightly around the head.
“Oh don’t,” she groaned, “I don’t want to think about it.”
“Well you are a wally, fancy him thinking you and Tom were not only related, but having a sexual relationship. Why didn’t you own up?” Bets asked, never ceasing to be amazed at the ridiculous situations Charlotte got herself into.
“Because, well because, I just couldn’t, I suppose that I was embarrassed.” Charlotte knew that Bets was right, she should have owned up as soon as she had seen Tom through the window.
“What, as embarrassed as you are now then?” Bets took a large sip from her wine.
“I’m not embarrassed. I'm angry. He’s so annoying. He's so pig headed, and he’s so…”
“Sexy, yeah you said,” Bets quipped, moving sharply to one side before the cushion hit her.
Chapter 18
The next morning Charlotte arrived at work with a rather thick head, seeing instantly the now-familiar silver car, annoyingly parked in her space.
“Oh God, why do you hate me so much?” she cried, banging her head on the steering wheel.
Ten minutes later and Charlotte was sat, with her chin on her hands, watching disinterestedly as Paul approached her desk. She knew that he wouldn’t still be mad; Paul didn’t hold grudges.
“Morning,” she groaned.
“Oh dear, heavy night was it?” he asked. “Oh well I’m not sure that you are going to like my suggestion, I’m afraid.”
“Why, what is it?” Charlotte asked, lifting her head up.
“By way of an apology to Niall, I think that you should take him to lunch and show him how you can behave.” Paul moved back a pace, expecting Charlotte’s full blast.
“Whatever, just don’t expect me to speak to him though, you can do all that.”
Paul shook his head. “No, I don’t think that you understand Charlotte, I’m not coming. This is your apology, and you are on your own on this one.”
Charlotte stood up, ready to land a punch on Paul’s nose, but then decided that as she was building bridges with him, a little more decorum would be needed. “What do you mean?” she asked through gritted teeth. “I can’t possibly go to lunch on my own with him, please Paul,” she pleaded, now sitting back down because her head hurt.
“Sorry poppet, but you made a mess of this one, so you’ve got to tidy it up.” Paul smiled kindly at her, as Charlotte dropped her head to the desk. “I’ve booked you a table at The Bell for 12:30, so make sure that you are ready. Oh and by the way, don’t try to escape, I have warned the necessary people.” He turned and winked at Gwen, who smiled coyly.
“Okay, but I really hope that all your teeth drop out at an early age.” Charlotte felt like crying, but she knew that it would be futile; Paul could be just like a man at times – stubborn.
“I do think that you are being over dramatic you know. He's a sweetheart and an absolute dear, and you’ll have a lovely time.” Paul turned upon his heel and escaped, before Charlotte changed her mind and decided to kill him there and then.
As he rushed through the door, Charlotte decided that she definitely needed some guidance, so she picked up the phone.
“Hello, Beauty Box, Cheryl speaking, can I help you?”
“Cheryl, hi, quickly get Bets for me please,” Charlotte pleaded.
“Oh dear is it the Irishman again?” Cheryl giggled on the other end.
Bets had obviously been gossiping about her, Charlotte realised. “I know; I know, please just get her.”
After a few minutes, Bet’s voice came on the line. “What now, don’t tell me, it’s about him again, or do you have another world stopping problem?” Bets asked, teasingly.
“Yes it’s about him. I have to go to lunch with him; alone. Paul is making me by way of an apology.” Charlotte was almost screaming with hysteria now.
Bets sighed heavily on the other end. “Charlotte, go and have lunch and stop making such a big deal out of it. So he
’s seen your nipples and your knickers, plus he thinks that you and your brother are having a sexual relationship, so what is the problem?”
“I really, really do hate you. I’ll go, but if this turns out to be the worst day of my life, I will never ever speak to you again,” replied Charlotte through gritted teeth.
“Okay, but before you stop speaking to me, just give me a call and let me know what happened.”
Charlotte slammed the phone down in disgust, she was now feeling betrayed that one of her best friends could find such a traumatic situation so funny.
By 12:15 Charlotte was a nervous wreck, there had been no sign of Niall, thank God, but she knew that he was around, and she also knew that he was playing with her.
“Don’t even know what he’s doing here, again,” she muttered to no one, in particular, while she packed her things away. “Thank God, I’ve worn my new pinstriped suit,” she informed her computer as she turned it off. Then, very slowly, she collected her coat from the stand behind her, and taking short steps, made her way to Paul’s office.
Charlotte poked her head round the door, but there was no sign of Niall. “Let’s hope he’s gone,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” The rich Irish accent came from behind Paul’s desk. “I dropped my pen,” he explained, getting up off his hands and knees.
“Sorry, erm, are you ready?” Charlotte couldn’t look at him.
Niall nodded and put his pen in his inside jacket pocket, showing Charlotte a sneaky peak of his broad chest, straining against the pale blue cotton of his shirt.
They walked in silence, Niall politely holding a couple of doors open for Charlotte, but there was no conversation and definitely no eye contact. They were walking down the driveway when Bobby came running out after them, calling Charlotte’s name. She turned sharply, a smile on her face, hoping that some crisis had occurred, and she would have to go back.
“Bobby, what is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“Your bag, you forgot it,” he replied, even more breathlessly. “You won’t get very far without your purse will you?” He shoved the bag at her, looking awkward at having had to carry it.
“Huh, the thing's people will do to get out of paying for lunch,” laughed Niall, smiling broadly; he saw Charlotte’s face turn to a grimace. “It was a joke.”
Charlotte remembered that she was supposed to be changing his opinion of her. “Yes I know,” she said, watching Bobby’s strange gait carrying him back to the office. “Trust me to forget, I’m not usually this dippy you know, only I’ve a lot on my mind at the moment.” She turned back to Niall, and flinging her bag over her shoulder, carried on walking down the drive.
“Right,” he answered shortly, following her.
“Err, we’re going to The Bell. It's only a ten-minute walk," called Charlotte over her shoulder. There was no response, and the rest of the journey continued in silence.
They made the ten minutes’ walk to the pub in around five minutes, leaving Charlotte gasping for breath by the time they got there. The icy silence and biting wind spurred her on.
“Bloody hell, do you power walk for a hobby?” Niall asked, as they entered the thick heat of the pub.
“A decent brisk walk does the heart good, what would you like?” Charlotte asked, not looking at him as she fished inside her handbag for her purse.
“No, I’ll get these,” he said, pushing past her. “What’ll yer have?”
“A pint of lager,” Charlotte said jokingly, expecting Niall to give her one of his looks, but he didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Grand, a girl after my own heart; two pints of lager please and we have a table booked.”
“Of course sir, what name is it in?”
Niall looked enquiringly at Charlotte, who shook her head. “Price or Palmer,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay, if you’d like to take a seat in the restaurant, someone will be over to take your order and bring you your drinks.” The ruddy-faced landlord pointed to the direction of a set of tables, set on a slightly higher level at the other end of the bar.
They fought their way through a group of poorly dressed salesmen at the bar, with Niall leading the way to a table set for two people by the window. Charlotte sat down in the chair that he held away from the table for her.
“Don’t think that I’m being gentlemanly, but I’d hate to see you flat on your arse again.” He smiled, but Charlotte didn’t look at him as she sat down, she just kept repeating a mantra again and again in her head.
“Be nice, he’s a client; be nice he’s a client.”
“Nice place here, what do you recommend eating then?” he asked, realising that the joke hadn’t gone down very well.
Charlotte looked up to see him peering closely at the menu. “The grilled trout is nice, if you like fish, obviously. Or they do a gorgeous homemade lasagne, which is what I’m going to have,” she said, relief flooding through her that he was trying to be fairly pleasant.
While he continued to study the menu, Charlotte settled back in her seat, taking a sip of lager. She would only normally have pints when she was really drunk, or out with Tom, never when on a date. God, what was she thinking, this wasn’t a date? It was a business lunch to improve a business relationship. For a few minutes, Charlotte gazed out of the window, but then she couldn’t fight the urge any longer, and looked at Niall over the rim of her glass. She thought that he was very attractive, but at the same time he was a swine of the highest order, or lowest, whichever was worse. Finally, a waitress came to take their order. She was a pretty, small, dark girl who smiled radiantly at Niall when he looked up at her; he seemed not to notice, his nose suddenly stuck back in his menu.
“I think that I’ll go for the lady's recommendation and have the lasagne, in fact, I think that we want two of those, don’t we?” Charlotte nodded toward the girl, who scribbled it down onto her notepad. “Could we have a bowl of chips with those please?” Niall finished, snapping the menu shut and looking up at the waitress.
“Certainly sir.” She smiled again. Then brushing her arm against his, reached across and picked up the two discarded menus, before wiggling off to the kitchen.
Charlotte was pleased that Niall had ordered chips. She'd been dying to ask for some, but thought that it might appear a little greedy, knowing the size of the portions, but now it didn’t matter. Suddenly, the uneasiness of the situation reared its ugly head again, and they sat in silence, trying to avoid eye contact. Because she was nervous Charlotte kept taking big gulps of her drink, then after each mouthful, grinning inanely at Niall and shrugging her shoulders. Once she realised what she was doing it became harder to stop, and so she continued after each mouthful, until in the end it took an almighty effort to stop doing it. Charlotte realised that she seriously should say something, before he really did think that she was a crackpot who wasn’t willing to make an effort.
Coughing nervously, in preparation, she started a conversation. “So how long have you lived in England then?” Niall wasn’t looking at her, but out of the window, she thought about poking him, but coughed loudly instead. Niall turned back sharply.
“Sorry did you say something?” He looked concerned, also aware that they were trying to build bridges and not wanting to appear rude.
“I was just asking how long you’ve lived in England.” Charlotte took another sip of lager, but managed to stop the grin and the shrug.
“Ooh, twelve years now, I came over to study law at Lancaster University,” he explained, taking his turn to have a drink.
“Don’t you miss your family, or do you get to see them a fair amount?” Charlotte found it impossible not to study him as she waited for his response.
“My da is dead, fortunately, and I get to see ma quite a lot. I try to go home at least every couple of months to see her and my five sisters.” Niall looked wistfully into his drink, running a finger along the edge of his glass.
“Ooh five s
isters, that’s a lot of women in one house.” Charlotte smiled widely, choosing to ignore the comments about his dad.
Niall nodded vigorously. “Hmm you’re not kidding.”
“So where is home then, if you don’t think I’m being too nosey?” She asked.
“Not at all, Dunlaoghaire, you know where the ferry goes to.” Charlotte nodded in recognition. “Lived there all my life until I was nineteen. I hated the place and couldn’t wait to leave, yet I really look forward to going home now, funny isn’t it?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Nope, I think you’ll find that it’s looking at life through rose-tinted spectacles. You’re probably like me and remember everything as being bigger and better when you were a kid.”
Niall nodded. “Yeah, the summer holidays were always boiling hot, and lasted for ever.”
“And Wagon Wheels were much bigger than they are now,” joined in Charlotte, airing both her and Bets favourite grievance.
They both laughed, and then it was silent again while they waited for their food. As they sat in silence once more, Charlotte felt that she should try and apologise for her behaviour in the office, the way that she had spoken to him.
“L-l-look,” she stammered. “I just wanted to say I’m was sorry for last night, what I said. It was totally unprofessional, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I hope that your opinion of me doesn’t affect the one that you have of the company, and again, I am sorry,” she babbled, looking everywhere except at Niall.
He shook his head slowly. “I was as much to blame, you were correct; I had no right to speak to you like that.”