by Nikki Ashton
“Someone in the car park must have done it, which I could have done without. I bet it will cost a fortune to repair.” She stood back outside the car, not wanting to take Esme in just yet. She didn't want Owen to see it as an invitation. She didn’t want him in the caravan tonight; perhaps it was because she felt so tired.
“I can sort that out for you.” His tone was kind, but there was no sign of it in his face; it was expressionless. “I’ve got a mate who works in a garage, and he owes me a couple of favours.”
“Oh you don’t have to waste your favours on me. It's not that I can’t afford it. I would just rather spend my money on something a little nicer.” Kerry looked away as Owen’s stare intensified.
“Look, I’ll sort it out okay!”
The sharpness to his voice startled Kerry. She turned to look at him, to see him disappearing towards the house. “Thanks,” she called out. Owen raised his hand in acknowledgment, but did not speak.
“God, he’s strange,” Kerry whispered quietly to herself. She lifted her sleeping baby from the car and took her inside to the warmth and safety of the caravan.
Paul and Niall were sat in a quiet corner of The Bell, both sipping orange juice. When Paul had returned to his office, he had found Niall looking through the window, watching Charlotte’s car disappearing. His back had been slumped and his hands deep inside his pockets, all signs to Paul that the meeting had not gone well.
“Niall,” he called gently, “are you okay?”
Niall turned slowly to face him, his eye's dark and his face grey. “Not really, I think I could do with a drink. However, when did that solve anything?”
“Quite,” said Paul. “Look it's almost lunchtime, let’s nip round to the pub for a chat and an orange juice.” Paul opened the door and guided Niall out by his elbow.
They had been sitting for ten minutes, barely speaking, but it was a companionable silence. Paul decided that he should start the conversation, hoping that he wasn’t intruding.
“I presume Charlotte denied everything?” he asked.
“No actually, she didn’t,” Niall paused, as he looked at Paul’s shocked face. “She admitted sleeping with him, but said it was just after New Year, not as recently as Grant said.”
“I’m shocked that she would even contemplate it, I didn’t realise that they were still in contact.” Paul wondered what Charlotte was doing. “If I remember rightly though, had she not just found out that you had a fiancée?” he asked, still determined to prove Charlotte’s innocence.
“It doesn’t matter Paul. I’m sorry but I believe Grant, what reason does he have to lie to me? Charlotte, on the other hand, is going to say anything to get out of it.” Niall sighed, thinking about what could have been.
“Well I’m obviously not going to be able to change your mind,” said Paul, “but remember I was around when that little shit broke her heart. I saw what a mess he made of her life, and I can’t imagine for one minute that she would risk letting that happening again, especially as she has feelings for you.” He looked at Niall slumped in his chair. “He could be lying to get back at Charlotte you know?”
“Why, he was the one who finished it with her. Surely, she would be the one with revenge in mind?”
“Is there no chance for you two then, I mean look at you Niall, it’s not exactly a decision that has made you happy is it?”
“No, but I saw what cheating and philandering did to my ma. It broke her Paul, that along with the booze and beatings. I always vowed that I would never let anyone treat me that way, so I’m not going to start now.”
“Right, so instead you are going to spend the rest of your life with someone who doesn’t really mean that much to you,” retorted Paul.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with Ingrid,” Niall spat back, before pushing his empty glass away.
“Well it can’t be that good, or you wouldn’t have fallen for Charlotte.”
Niall had to agree that Paul had a point, but he couldn’t risk letting Charlotte break his heart, at least Ingrid loved him; she must do; she'd chased him hard enough.
“So,” Paul whispered, “are you going to stay with Ingrid, even after finding out that you don’t really love her?”
“I’m going to try to make a go of it. We were happy you know, before Charlotte distracted me,” answered Niall, not looking at Paul directly.
“If you say so, or were you then just making a go of it?” Paul asked kindly.
Niall didn’t answer, but gazed ahead of him, trying to put thoughts of Grant and Charlotte out of his mind.
“Niall, I know I’m some bloke that you’ve only recently met, and there isn’t a lot of advice that I can give you as far as women are concerned. However, I do happen to be a friend of the girl of your dreams, so if you ever need to talk.” Paul placed a friendly hand on Niall’s shoulder.
“I know and thank you Paul, but I’m sure that I’ll be okay.”
Charlotte was dressed in her pyjamas and curled up on the sofa, accompanied by a large carton of rum and raisin ice cream, a bottle of wine and Petula. She was watching Dirty Dancing for what was probably the 100th time.
As she gazed at Johnny and Baby doing lifts in the water, Charlotte shovelled ice cream into her mouth while salty tears slid down her cheeks, landing on her spoon. She wasn’t really taking in the film. She knew it off by heart anyway; instead, she was replaying everything that had been said earlier in Paul’s office.
Her mood was fluctuating between peaks and troughs, peaks when she was glad to be rid of such an arsehole, and troughs when she realised that she had told Niall never to ring her ever again. Knowing what little she did about him, Charlotte guessed that he would keep her to her word. After their confrontation, she had arrived home with swollen eyes from crying, and by then an almighty headache; she decided to go to bed and try sleep.
Surprisingly, she slept peacefully for two hours, only waking because the boy racer, who lived across the road, had decided to blast some crappy dance music from his car stereo at full volume. Charlotte, not happy being woken, promptly stuck her head out of the bedroom window and gave him a blast of her own; mostly, expletives that even shocked the boy racer.
After half an hour of trying to get back to sleep, Charlotte hauled herself out of bed and decided to ring Bets. There was no reply from Bet’s flat, so Charlotte had sent her a text, urging Bets to ring her. That had been three hours ago, and she still hadn’t heard anything. While she waited impatiently, next to the phone, Charlotte considered ringing a manure company and getting them to deliver 200 tons to Grant’s house. However, the momentary peak in her mood suddenly hit a trough, realising that she had no idea where he lived, or even what his telephone number was. Now, to make matters worse, she was feeling sick, not surprising after a family carton of ice cream. Unperturbed by the queasiness bubbling inside her, Charlotte shuffled to the kitchen in search of more provisions. She flung open cupboard doors, searching for something suitable, finally finding a sugar filled booty hidden behind a tin of out of date peaches. She took two slabs of blackberry jelly, a packet of sugared almonds and half a tube of silver bullet cake decorations, and made her way back into the living room; just in time for the big seduction scene.
“I hate her Petula, look at her bra and how white it is, not a bloody label in sight. Huh, not like real life, when you whip your top off to find that you’ve got your old grey sports bra on, with toothpaste down the front. And I bet her knickers are perfect. I bet they haven’t got bits of elastic hanging off them with the seams coming undone. Real life isn’t like that Baby, you silly tart.” Charlotte was wagging a finger at the T.V. screen now, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. “He doesn’t love you. He's playing with you. You'd be better off with the nerd; at least, he owns two hotels.”
As she threw a silver bullet at the screen, the ringing at the doorbell shrilled in the background. Charlotte stood up, and armed with all her food, went to answer it.
“Hiya,
did you fancy some company then?” Bets grinned at Charlotte, holding up her mobile to show the text message that she’d received.
It was all too much for Charlotte as thoughts of her meeting with Niall came flooding back. She dropped all her E numbers to the floor, and flung her arms around Bet’s neck, sobbing into her leather jacket, while a dull ache thudded inside her chest.
“Oh Bets it’s not fair, why is her bra so white?”
Chapter 29
January moved into a pleasantly mild February with everyone going about their business. The warmer weather, however, did not bring good humour with it. Bets, Kelvin and Charlotte were still worried about Kerry as there had been no further word from her. Kelvin had continued with his nightly search, but even he was beginning to realise the futility of it all. Bets and Charlotte were very supportive of him, trying to make him feel more positive about the situation; almost convincing him that she would be home soon.
Bets had to work extra hard; she also had to keep an eye on Charlotte. Charlotte became somewhat sullen and bad tempered; constantly pre-menstrual were Tom’s comment. Bets had arranged shopping trips, meals out and nights boozing, but nothing seemed to be working; Charlotte wore a permanent grimace. Eventually, following a silent drive home after seeing Kelvin, Bets rang Amanda and Tom; she was their sister, so they too should share some of the responsibility of turning her back into a human being.
Bets, on the other hand, was getting back to her old self, slowly but surely. She no longer felt sad every day, not exactly exultant, but certainly not sad. She had, however, become some sort of born again virgin. Bets wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, sex didn’t seem that important anymore. Perhaps she was growing up at last, or possibly it was the dose of thrush she had developed from Michael, the hotel manager’s flavoured ribbed condoms. She had to admit that it had scared her slightly; even with protection she wasn’t totally safe.
Kerry’s last few weeks had moved along slowly and quietly, something which she had actually enjoyed. It gave her some time to recharge her batteries and start to think of her future; a little. She had given some thought to what her life was going to be like without Kelvin, but not too much. She felt sick whenever the image of his face flashed before her eyes, because she would wonder what he would be doing at that very moment and who he would be with. Kerry tried to keep herself busy so that she didn’t think these thoughts, and generally, it worked, but the sharp, searing pain around her heart never went away. Esme was blossoming in the fresh country air with a healthy rosy glow in her cheeks and seemed to be fairly happy with just Kerry for company. Owen kept himself to himself more or less, only waving from across the farm yard, no longer visiting for an afternoon a cup of tea.
Charlotte knew that she was making everyone’s life a misery, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake off the grey cloud of sadness that followed her every day. She hadn’t seen Niall since that day, in Paul’s office, but then why would she. The business with him was now all finished; signed, sealed and delivered, so there were no sightings of him at all. Charlotte had, however, spoken to Grant. True to type he couldn’t help but telephone her to gloat; he’d gotten one over on Charlotte and wanted to make sure she knew it.
“I hear that your latest romance is off then.” There was no greeting of any kind; he went straight for the jugular.
“You bastard, how could you do that to me?” Charlotte was alone in the office at the end of the working day.
“Simple, you treated me no better than a dog last time I saw you. You deserved it, you sad old cow.” The venom was very clear in his voice.
“I didn’t deserve that at all. Don’t you think that you did enough to me three years ago, or had you conveniently forgotten that?” she asked desperately, tears pricking at her eyelashes.
“Charlotte, you shouldn’t be bitter about these things. You just weren’t right for me, so I had to end it, simple,” his tone was now smug.
“Fair enough Grant, in fact, you did me a favour because thoughts of spending the last three years with you really makes me want to vomit. What about Niall though, that was cruel. He’s supposed to be your friend, how could you do that to him?”
“All’s fair as they say. He’ll get over it. Ingrid is much better for him than you. In fact, a little bird tells me that they’ve booked a wedding at long last,” he told her.
Charlotte could tell that he was smiling on the other end of the phone, and she could tell that he wasn’t lying. She’d heard his attempts often enough in the past, and they weren’t good. Although she had known there was no chance of reconciliation with Niall, the news still came like a bullet through her heart.
While images of Niall danced before her eyes, Charlotte’s throat closed up and her heart began to beat faster, as the desire to retch grew, she slammed the phone down. There was no point in arguing with Grant, or even asking any questions, it wouldn’t help matters. Evidently, Niall wasn’t heart broken by her apparent betrayal otherwise he wouldn’t be making wedding plans so quickly. Obviously, Charlotte had just been a dalliance that had helped him to realise how much he loved Ingrid.
Charlotte sat behind her desk for almost two hours, thinking about Niall and trying to answer the questions that were raised in her mind. Such as why did she feel like this about him? She knew that she loved him, yet how could she, she didn’t really know him? They’d had two lunches and furtive episode of making out, but before that they had been nothing but rude to each other. Charlotte thought about it long and hard and couldn’t think of any reason why she should love a man whom she hardly knew. However, she had fallen in love with him, and she had to accept that he obviously didn’t love her; or even like her enough to give their relationship a go. Love could be very one-sided and Charlotte realised, as she sat under the lamp light, that if she didn’t sort herself out, then she really would become Miss Haversham and there was no way that she was going to give Grant, or Niall that satisfaction.
Charlotte reached down and punched a quick dial button on her telephone. She listened to the ring tone for a few seconds; a bright, familiar voice answered.
“Hiya Bets, what are you doing tonight?”
“Hi. Unfortunately for a Friday evening nothing, why?”
“Do you fancy getting absolutely bladdered?” Charlotte asked. After a few minutes deciding where to go, and what to wear, their evening was planned.
Charlotte replaced the receiver, turned out the lights and left the office. As she set the alarm, she thought about her promotion coming up. She had worked hard for it, putting much time and energy into the business, and she would continue to do; now Niall Devine wasn’t around to distract her.
As Charlotte drove along the dark country roads her mobile started ringing on the seat next to her. Pulling over she snatched it up and saw that it was Paul’s home number displayed.
“Hi Paul, are you okay?” she asked trying to sound brighter than she actually felt.
There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line. “Charlotte, I truly hate to do this to you, and I wouldn’t if there was any other way around it. I’m really sorry, but could you call at Niall’s house and pick up some documents for me?” Paul rushed out his request, guessing what her reaction would be.
Charlotte didn’t shout, remaining calm, but gave a firm. “No.”
“Please Charlotte. One of their engineers has to go out to India on Tuesday morning. He needs his public liability, and personal insurance upgraded, and rushing through before he goes. Please,” he pleaded.
“No, Paul. I’m sorry can’t someone else go?”
“There is no one else that I can ask. It would be awful if anything happened with the guy while he was over there, and he wasn’t insured properly.” Then Paul played his trump card. “Look if you do this for me I’ll let you have any car of your choice for your company car; within reason of course!”
It made Charlotte think again, but the thought of seeing Niall made her stomach flip over and wr
ing itself out. However, she also knew that if anything did happen to the engineer Palmer Insurance’s good name would be ruined.
“Okay, but I won’t hold you to the car; we’ll see whether we can afford it first. But please remember how much I hate you at this moment.”
“Thank you, I really do appreciate this. I’ll ring Niall now and tell him you are on your way.” Charlotte grunted, on the other end. “Charlotte, I really mean it about the car,” Paul added, hoping to pacify her.
“Okay,” she sighed. “Bye.” She cut him off with a press of a button, thinking how she would love to be able to do that to all men; cut them out with a press of a button.
Her feelings in turmoil, Charlotte’s speed alternated between fast and very slow. Fast when she wanted to get the nightmare over and done with, and then slow when she thought about seeing Niall in person. What was she going to say to him? How would he react to seeing her? And how on earth was she going to react?
All too soon her questions were about to be answered; she pulled into the drive, the gravel crunching under her tyres. The shining of her headlights and the noise must have clearly announced her arrival, because the front door was flung open as she got out of the car.
Charlotte’s heart beat like bongo drums as she walked towards Niall. The light from the hallway shone behind him, threw a warm glow into the cold night air. He stood, with bare feet and a naked chest in just a pair of threadbare jeans. He looked like a model for a jean's advert, standing with one hand resting against the doorframe. The button on his jeans was undone, showing no sign of any underwear, only a thin line of hair appearing from his waistband, up to his perfect “inny” belly button. Niall’s stomach was flat and tight, and as Charlotte’s eyes moved up his body, she noticed that his black hair was damp, obviously he had recently showered. She fought the urge to groan out loud, ignoring the feeling of excitement deep, deep within the pit of her stomach. Shaking thoughts of a naked Niall from her head, Charlotte smiled dully at him. It was not reciprocal, as Niall simply thrust a brown envelope towards her.