Guess Who I Pulled Last Night?

by Nikki Ashton

  Charlotte folded the note and popped it back inside the envelope with the letter and put them into her handbag, making safe the words that she would cherish forever. Just as she was drying her eyes Paul came in, breaking the silence that Gwen and Laura had considerately adopted over the last few minutes. He breezed in happy and smiling as usual, brightening up the grey afternoon.

  “Hi girls, everything okay?”

  Laura nodded and Gwen positively glowed at being referred to as a girl, giggling coquettishly. She always tried to flirt with Paul, positive that one day he would see the error of his ways, and go to her for comfort. However, he didn’t stop at her desk today, but carried on to Charlottes, pulling a chair up next to hers.

  He put a comforting hand on her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked tenderly.

  Charlotte smiled weakly at him and cuffed him on the arm.

  “You knew all about it then?”

  Paul nodded. “Yes I’m afraid. I spoke to him earlier in the week, and he asked me what I thought, whether it was a good idea or not, and of course, I said that it was. I tried to persuade him to go to your house and give it to you personally, but he didn’t feel that he should.”

  “I’m glad that he didn’t,” Charlotte sighed. “This way was bad enough, you know knowing that he’s been here, but see him well…” she trailed off, her thoughts picturing a meeting with Niall.

  “I think that he may have done at first, he had the address and everything, but then maybe his nerve went. I don’t know.”

  There was a moment of silence before Charlotte spoke. “H-h-how is he, is he okay?”

  Paul ran a hand through his hair, choosing his words carefully.

  “Well he isn’t good.” He saw the look of alarm on Charlotte’s face. “Hey, no, there’s nothing to worry about, he’s healthy and everything, although he has lost weight. It’s his mental state I'm worried about. He's so unhappy Charlotte. He just doesn’t want this wedding to be happening, he needs to be with you, but you know what with the baby, it’s difficult.”

  “I know. He's a good honourable Catholic boy.” Charlotte smiled, remembering Niall’s description of himself.

  “I think it’s his mother, he’s more worried about upsetting. He knows that he has a responsibility to Ingrid, although I am sure that she could manage perfectly well on her own. He’s afraid his mother won’t approve of him abandoning Ingrid apparently it would rather be history repeating itself. I believe his father abandoned his mother, several times.”

  “I know he told me,” Charlotte whispered. “You seem to have become good friends,” she said.

  “We’ve talked a couple of times, but I think that he likes that I’m some sort of contact with you.” He looked at her sad little face, and remembered his promise to Niall.

  “Charlotte he does love you, very much.” Paul stood up and ruffled her hair gently. “Why don’t you get off now and go and do some shopping or something.”

  “Hmm, I may just do that,” she sighed. “Tom ate me out of house and home when he stayed, and I haven’t replenished the cupboards since.”

  Suddenly, Paul’s eyes lit up. “Oh Tom, how is the dear boy?”

  As Charlotte ambled around the supermarket, her mind was elsewhere, definitely not among the buy one get one free offers, and so her trolley was full of expensive food that she would probably never eat. Unluckily for her, she had also picked the trolley with a mind of its own, and was spending most of the time walking backwards and dragging it behind her. It was as she was pushing and pulling her trolley around in the bread aisle that she walked straight into someone behind her. Charlotte quickly turned around to see an older lady, dressed in a smart grey coat; she was also walking backwards.

  Charlotte nodded towards the manic trolley. “Has yours got a mind of its own as well?”

  The lady smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, it doesn’t help that I don’t know where to find anything. I’m visiting you see.”

  Charlotte took a sharp intake of breath, at the sound of the soft lilting Irish accent.

  “I’ve been in here nearly an hour now. They will be sending out a search party for me.”

  Charlotte smiled and moved towards her. “Here, let me have a look at your list, perhaps I can help. My mind isn’t really on my shopping to tell you the truth.” She was glad for a distraction from the thoughts and pictures whirling around in her head.

  The lady passed over the list, letting Charlotte take charge, so that within fifteen minutes, she had everything that she needed. She then followed Charlotte to the checkout, where she helped her load all her shopping onto the conveyor belt.

  “Thank you so much dear, it really was very kind of you. My little boy will be sick of waiting in the car for me,” the lady sighed.

  Charlotte frowned slightly, my little boy, surely it must be her grandchild. Smart as the lady was she looked at at least sixty, still perhaps she’d had a hard life, but fancy leaving him in the car!

  After they had finished loading the lady’s shopping, Charlotte began hauling her own onto the shiny, black conveyor belt. She had to wonder what she was going to make with a tube of anchovy paste, a jar of pickled eggs and two bags of desiccated coconut. Granny Joan would be able to make something of it all; she was sure.

  The Irish lady paid for her shopping and then started to push her trolley out, turning one last time to wave at Charlotte and mouth a silent thank you. Charlotte mouthed back, “no problem” and started to pack her carrier bags.

  As she struggled to the car with her lively trolley, Charlotte could see the lady, in the distance, walking back from the trolley park to her car. Charlotte was just about to turn around the drag her shopping backwards when the lady’s car caught her eye; a familiar silver Audi.

  “Niall,” she whispered.

  Ignoring the fat, greasy man beeping at her to get out of the way of his rusty white van, Charlotte watched wistfully as the car sped off across the car park. She couldn’t see him clearly, but could just make out a baseball-capped figure in the driver’s seat. The lady was obviously his mum over for the wedding; thank God he hadn’t decide to go to the supermarket with her.

  “Oi, are you moving or what?” the fat, greasy man bawled at her, blasting the horn once more.

  Charlotte gave him her best look of disdain, and walked away, with as much dignity that she could muster while dragging a wobbly trolley behind her.

  “Blimey Ma, what have you been doing all this time? I nearly sent out a search party for yer. Julia and Helena will be cursing us, leaving them with Ingrid all this time.”

  “Ah well I couldn’t find anything, but then this pretty girl helped me out. She was kindness itself, with the face of an angel and a beautiful speaking voice, just the sort of…”

  “Enough Ma,” Niall scolded, holding up his hand. “Ingrid is having my baby, and I am marrying her full stop.”

  “But Niall sweetheart, yer not happy, I could see that the moment I set eyes on yer yesterday and as for herself, well the devil himself wouldn’t want to marry that one. I do not, and will not, judge you by the sins of your father. You are two totally different men Niall; you don’t love her, and I would hate it more if you had a loveless marriage like mine than only saw your child at weekends.”

  “For the last time I am not following in Da’s footsteps, so please drop the subject.” And with that he turned up the radio, to drown of the ticking of his mother’s brain, and the thumping of his heart.

  Charlotte, Kerry and Bets all met up that evening at Charlotte’s house for a quiet night in, watching weepy videos and drinking cheap wine. There was not the usual bravado and of all of them, Kerry was the only one who seemed to have anything to be happy about.

  “Come on you two, Julia Roberts hasn’t even died yet, so what are you so down in the mouth about?” She glanced at them both sprawled across the sofa.

  Charlotte was picking at the seam on her sweater, while Bets insisted on folding, and re-folding a piece of kitchen
roll. They both looked up at Kerry, doleful eyes from beneath furrowed brows.

  “I’m just a tad pissed off that’s all. It's allowed isn’t it?” muttered Bets.

  Charlotte turned to her. She had been so caught up in her own misery that she hadn’t realised that Bets was also looking like someone who had the winning lottery numbers, but hadn’t bought a ticket.

  “Well yes it is allowed, but it may help if you both told me what the matter was.” Kerry looked expectantly, from one to the other. “Well?”

  “I’ve seen Niall today.”

  “And you?”

  “I can’t get a man.”

  At that point, both Kerry and Charlotte snorted in derision.

  “Crap, you’ve always got men falling at your feet,” scoffed Charlotte. “Unlike me, I’m so desirable that the man I love is willing to marry a scrawny, wizened, domineering, nasty old boot to get away from me!”

  “Not bitter at all, are we Charlotte?” Bets asked. “Well for your information I’m sick of those men who fall at my feet. I’ve decided that I want a proper relationship, and I want to settle down, but I just can’t seem to get the man of my dreams at the moment.”

  Kerry smiled kindly at Bets, realising that she had been in this mood of despair for a few weeks now, so it was obviously serious.

  “Sweetheart you will find the right man.” Kerry stretched across and rubbed Bets’ leg.

  “Hmm, well maybe I’m in the same boat as Charlotte. I’ve found him but he doesn’t want me, ever thought of that?”

  Charlotte turned sharply to her, amazed at what Bets had just said. “God, I can’t believe that there is a man out there that wouldn’t want you, you well…you’re beautiful.”

  Bets pulled Charlotte to her and hugged her tightly. “Well thank you, but your recommendation doesn’t really seem to help.”

  “Well I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want either of you,” said Kerry. “I think that you are both beautiful and wonderful human beings.” Kerry’s eyes brimmed with tears. The copious amounts of plonk consumed having a sentimental effect on her state of mind. They both simply smiled in return, recognising the start of a drunken declaration of love for them both.

  Half an hour later, with the mood much brighter, Kerry and Charlotte decided to nip down the road for some crisps, nuts and chocolates. The munchies well and truly kicking in.

  Bets sat alone, staring blankly at the T.V., not really taking anything in, when suddenly the lounge door began to open.

  “God, you were quick, did you change your mind?”

  There in the doorway stood Tom, turning a very deep pink as he came face to face with Bets.

  “Hi,” he whispered, aware of the effect that seeing her was having on his complexion.

  “Oh hi, how did you get in?” Bets' question was barely audible as she tried to stifle the quiver to her voice.

  Tom waved a set of keys at her as her. “Charlotte gave me a set when I stayed.” He moved in through the door and perched on the chair opposite to Bets, his hands deep inside his jacket pockets, staring equally blankly at the flashing television screen. “Where is Charlotte anyway?” Tom asked.

  “Shop,” was all she managed to utter. A ball of air caught at the back of her throat.

  “Oh.”

  Tom turned slowly from the T.V. and stared intently at Bets, who was sneaking a look at him in turn. Surprising each other, they both quickly turned to the game show on the television, then after a few minutes the silence became deafening, and Tom looked back at Bets.

  “So, how are you?” he asked timidly.

  Bets hesitated for a moment, amazed at how nervous she suddenly felt in his company. This was Tom, who she had known forever, Tom, who had become a good friend over the last few months, Tom, who she always had an insult for, so why did she feel tongue tied and unable to bring herself to look at him, and why were her hands shaking underneath the cushion on her knee. Slowly Bets lifted her head to meet his gaze and couldn’t help but smile. He looked so handsome, with his long lashes sweeping against his cheeks, and his big brown eyes peering out from beneath his furrowed brow. It reminded her of the look that he always had as a child, when he was struggling to tie his shoe laces.

  “I’m okay,” she uttered at last. “A bit tired, but okay.” Then, there was silence once more, until Bets spoke. “And you?”

  “Same really, can’t stop thinking about you, but apart from that fine,” he said casually, before coughing nervously.

  Bet’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “Don’t look so shocked, you’re not telling me that you haven’t been feeling the same way.” Tom looked at her pleadingly, desperate for her to agree.

  She did, and nodded silently.

  “So, what are we going to do?” he asked.

  Bets shrugged. “I don’t know. It's difficult to understand isn’t it? We've known each other for a lifetime, and it’s not as if we’ve ever kissed or anything,” she sighed.

  Tom leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know. That's what I can’t understand either. Why suddenly do I have this obsession with you? That’s the sort of thing that you have when you are a kid, you know when you realise that a hard on is a good thing and not something wrong with your tackle.” Bets’ laugh tinkled in the silence. “Seriously though Bets, what are we going to do? I can’t eat or sleep, and I’ve gone right off flirting with the customers.” Tom smiled at his attempt at lightening the situation.

  “I don’t know. I do know that I feel that same way, but you and I Tom together, well it isn’t really a very good idea is it?”

  “Why?”

  “Well for one, I’m your sister’s friend, and older than you.”

  “Yes, plus we are too alike.”

  “Exactly, and when it goes wrong can you imagine the recriminations and the aftermath on everyone we know. There will be no more cheesy games of Buckaroo on Christmas Day.”

  “I suppose so, and you would probably stop me going to watch football.”

  “Most definitely, so shall we just be friends, what do you say?” Bets held out her hand, for Tom to shake.

  “Okay, let’s put it down to too much wine and agree that we are probably suffering from the 'what might have been' phenomena that makes the most bizarre of people attractive to you, agreed,” he replied rather too brightly as he took her hand and closed his own around it.

  “Yes agreed,” said Bets, ignoring the hammering of her heart.

  “Okay, back to normal then.”

  Bets nodded. “Okay, no problem at all.”

  “Well, I’ll be off now,” said Tom standing up. “Leave you girls to your girly night in. Can you give these to Charlotte for me?” He passed the keys to Bets, almost knocked over by the thumping of his heart as he touched her hand.

  “Sure, see you Tom.”

  With that he was gone, slamming the front door behind him. Petula, the cat, disturbed by the noise, stretched out lazily next to Bets, who reached down to stroke her.

  “We are right Petula. It would be disastrous for us to get together, and it just wouldn’t work. But, you know, maybe it would have been nice giving it a try.”

  Chapter 37

  Over the next couple of weeks things got back to some normality for both Charlotte and Bets, well as far as they were concerned. Kerry, on the other hand, was rather more astute and sensed that the two of them were play acting, but she had agreed with Kelvin, that unless they went to her for advice, she would not interfere.

  On the morning of her birthday Charlotte woke fairly early after a restless night, knowing as soon as she opened her eyes that today was, to ' a phrase', the first day of the rest of her life, a life definitely without Niall. Bets and Kerry had arranged that they would all go over to Liverpool shopping, but unfortunately Bets had cried off yesterday. She had to work to cover one of the girls, who had gone off sick with flu. So, rather than Bets miss out, Charlotte suggested that they go the following weekend instead, besides
it suited Charlotte as she wasn’t really sure that she wanted any company today. She wanted to wallow alone, before they all went drinking that evening.

  She pottered around the house for most of the morning, taking telephone calls from her family and friends wishing her a happy birthday, doing some housework and watching a little of Saturday morning television, all the while trying desperately not to look at the time. Then at midday she could stand it no longer. The urge was too great; she knew that if she left within the next half-hour or so, she could make it over to Manchester for the service. It was madness she knew, but heart breaking or not. She had to go. She quickly showered and changed, preparing herself to witness what would probably be the worst experience of her life, then just as her bottle was going, Kerry rang. Charlotte, knowing, deep down, that she needed moral support, blurted out her intentions and asked Kerry to go with her; she knew it wasn’t really something that she could do alone.

  “Charlotte, of course I will come with you, if that’s what you really want to do. Is it?” There was no response from the other end of the line; Kerry couldn’t see Charlotte nodding her head. “Charlotte?”

  “Sorry, yes it is. I’ve got to finish this once and for all. Otherwise, I will always be thinking that he's going to walk through the door one day, and tell me that it was all a bad dream.

  Kerry sighed full of sympathy for her friend. “Okay sweetheart, give me ten minutes to sort Kelvin and Esme out, and then I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay, thanks Kerry I owe you one,” sighed Charlotte, already wondering whether she could think of a reason not to go.

  Twenty minutes later, they were driving north to Niall and Ingrid’s wedding.

  Charlotte looked out of the window, silently watching the houses rush past. She spoke to Kerry without taking her gaze away.