by Sherri Bryan
“Not yet, poppet, but soon.” Charlotte bent to hug her. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home, Mol. And Daddy says he’s very sorry, but he couldn’t come to meet you. He’s going to try to get home for a while later, though, okay?” She stepped away and looked Molly up and down before hugging her again. “So, tell me all about it—did you have a good time?”
“Oh my gosh, Mummy,” said Molly, slapping a palm to her forehead. “We had the best time ever.”
Charlotte chuckled. “I see your tooth came out eventually.”
Molly nodded and stuck her tongue through the gap. “Erin accidentally hit me in the face when we were practicing our dance routine for the end of camp concert, and my tooth went flying across the tent.” She giggled. “She didn’t mean to do it – it was an accident - but it hurt a bit. I was glad, though. I’d been wobbling it for ages but I didn’t want to pull it hard. I’ve been keeping it safe in my pencil case.”
“That’s a good place to keep it,” said Charlotte, pulling out into the evening traffic. “Baby teeth are so small, they can easily get lost.”
Molly nodded. “Mummy?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I put my tooth under the pillow in the tent, but the tooth fairy didn’t come. Erin said it’s because she only comes to your house, not to camp. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Charlotte.
“Oh, I see,” said Molly, her forehead creased in a curious frown. “Why’s that?”
“What? Er, well, the tooth fairy only knows where you live. You know, your home address, not where you are when you go off to camp.”
“Huh? So she doesn’t even know my tooth’s come out yet?” Molly said, with a dubious expression.
“Probably not,” said Charlotte.
“But I thought fairies knew everything. The last time one of my teeth fell out and I lost it, you told me not to worry because the tooth fairy would find it and bring my money to the house that night. And she did, too. That’s what you told me—that fairies know everything.”
“Oh. Did I?” Charlotte slapped a hand on her thigh. “Ah, yes, sorry, poppet, I forgot for a minute. Mummy’s brain is all over the place at the moment because she’s having a baby. Yes, you see, the tooth fairy always knows you’ve lost your tooth, but it isn’t, er, until you leave it under your own pillow that she comes to collect it. I know she’ll come if you leave it under your pillow tonight.”
The answer satisfied Molly, the creases between her eyes disappearing and a smile curling her lips.
“‘kay, Mummy. Come on, let’s go and see Pippin and Panda. I missed them so much.”
“And then a pizza, yes?”
“Yaaaaay!” Molly threw her hands in the air and danced in her seat. “Mummy?”
“Yes, darling?”
“You know some pizzas have stuffed crusts?”
“Yes.”
“What are they actually stuffed with?”
“Well, I’ve never had one, but I think it’s just cheese.”
“Nothing else?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t think so, but we can find out at the pizza place if you like?”
“‘kay.” Molly nodded and stared out of the window. “I got bit by a mosquito when we were at camp.” She held out her arm. “It’s got a scab on it now, though, so it doesn’t itch any more.”
“I know it’s difficult,” said Charlotte, “but you should try not to scratch bites.”
“Why?”
“Because they can get infected, and they can leave scars.”
Molly nodded. “’kay. Mummy?”
“Yes.”
“Do mosquitos bite other mosquitos?”
Charlotte laughed and reached over to squeeze Molly’s hand. “I have absolutely no idea, but we’ll look it up when we get home, shall we?”
“‘kay.”
Charlotte was still smiling when they arrived at the restaurant. It had only been a week since Molly, with her inquisitive mind and her constant barrage of curious questions, had been away.
Sometimes, keeping up with her could be exhausting but, as Charlotte looked at her skipping along beside her chattering away at the speed of a horse-race commentator, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.
____________
“‘lo, Oliver,” said Molly, as she answered Charlotte’s phone. “I got back from camp today and we’ve just had a pizza as a special welcome home dinner. Mummy just had cheese and tomato but I had pepperoni and sweetcorn. My Daddy says sweetcorn has no place on a pizza but I like it.
“Daddy has weird things on his pizzas. He has anchovies and those nasty looking artichoke thingies, but Daddy calls them fartychokes.” She giggled. “Huh? Oh, yes, she’s upstairs, just a minute.” She skipped to the bottom of the stairs and called up. “Mummy! Oliver’s on the phone.”
When she’d been a baby, Molly hadn’t been able to say Olivia, instead plumping for Oliver, which she could utter without any problem at all, and the name had stuck. She sat on the bottom step and explored the inside of her nose with her finger.
Charlotte appeared at the top of the stairs, chuckling as she made her way down. She sat down next to Molly and took the phone, putting her hand over the microphone. “Take your finger out of your nose, please,” she said, “and go and wash your hands, there’s a good girl. Hi, Olivia. I had a feeling I might hear from you today.”
“You would have heard from me earlier if I hadn’t only just got up,” said Olivia, in a raspy voice. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I’ve been catching up all day. Have you seen The Sunday Herald? That interview with Gordon Buckingham?”
“Yes, I read it this morning,” said Charlotte. “I have to say, all things considered, he seems like a very reasonable man.”
Olivia said nothing, her voice faltering when she eventually replied. “I feel awful, Charlotte. Really bloody awful. I’ve hardly thought of him since… since all that business, but now I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“It’s not a bad thing to be feeling remorseful after what you did to him, Olivia—it was horrific. And, if I was you, I’d be thanking my lucky stars that the bloke I’d thrown through a window was so good-natured.”
“I am,” said Olivia. “That’s why I feel so bad. In fact, I wanted to ask you a huge favour, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Go on,” said Charlotte, warily.
“If you’re feeling up to it, I wondered if you’d take me to see him? According to the newspaper, he still lives in Little Acorns village, which is only about two hours away. I could go on the train, but I really don’t want to go on my own, so I wondered if you’d take me?” she repeated. “I’d really appreciate it if you could. I’ll pay for the petrol.”
Charlotte hesitated. She felt torn. As much as she wanted to help Olivia, she wasn’t sure if going to see Gordon Buckingham was a good idea. Talking to a newspaper reporter was one thing, but seeing his attacker on his doorstep might provoke a completely different reaction altogether, even if he had forgiven her. He’d looked very frail in the picture the newspaper had used; the last thing anyone needed was for him to keel over with fright after taking one look at Olivia.
“Please, Charlotte. I really need to do this.”
Charlotte sighed. “Alright. Shall we go tomorrow and get it out of the way? The earlier the better, but it’ll have to be after I’ve dropped Molly at school. And I’ll need to get back in plenty of time to pick her up at half-past three.”
The relief in Olivia’s voice was palpable.
“Thanks, I owe you one. I’ll call round to you tomorrow at around nine-thirty—will that be okay?”
“That’ll be fine. I’ll see you then. Oh, and Olivia, do you mind if Ava comes along? She’s coming over in the morning.”
“The more, the merrier,” said Olivia. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 14
“Whatever does she want to see him for?” said Ava, as she wiped her shoes on Charlotte’s door
mat the next morning. “It’s not as though he said anything derogatory about her in the interview, is it? I hope she doesn’t want to cause any trouble.” She frowned as she studied Charlotte’s stomach for signs of imminent childbirth.
“Of course she doesn’t,” said Charlotte. “Quite the opposite, actually. She’s been feeling pretty down and lonely lately, so it cheered her up when she read how decent he was about her. I got the impression she wants to apologise.”
“Hmpf, clear her conscience, more like,” said Ava. “She probably saw how amenable he was to that newspaper reporter and thought she’d take her chance while he’s in a good mood.”
“Maybe.” Charlotte shrugged as she switched the radio on low for the dogs to keep them company, something she’d always done for Pippin if he was left home alone, and a habit she’d never got out of once Panda had come to live with them.
“I’m not so sure Olivia’s going to get the same reception, though,” said Ava. “He obviously didn’t feel threatened by the reporter who went round to interview him, but Olivia’s an entirely different prospect. We all know how intimidating she can be.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” said Charlotte. “I know he said he’s made his peace with her, but what if the shock of seeing her does him some damage? Shock can be really dangerous, you know.”
“Well, whatever happens, I’m jolly glad I’m coming along too,” said Ava. “I don’t think you should be driving in your condition without someone in the car who’d know what to do if you went into labour. That baby could pop out at any minute—how d’you expect you’d handle that if it was just Olivia with you, hmm? You may like to remember who delivered your last baby when she decided to make an appearance a month early.” She arched a brow and cast Charlotte a knowing glance.
“As if I could ever forget,” said Charlotte, with a grin. “Oh, look, here comes Olivia now. That’s good, she’s early.”
Not having had time for breakfast before she left home, Olivia had brought along a large dish of cold cottage pie to eat in the car. “Morning both,” she said. “Do you mind, Charlotte? I’m not used to getting up so early so I didn’t even have time to make some toast.”
“As long as you don’t spill any,” said Charlotte, “or the dogs will go crazy the next time they’re in here.”
“Goodness, you do have a healthy appetite, don’t you?” Ava lifted an eyebrow as they set off and Olivia tucked into her breakfast with a large serving spoon.
“I always eat a lot when I’m stressed.” She shovelled food into her mouth, barely pausing for breath. “I can’t get it down fast enough.”
“Evidently,” said Ava, drily, as a morsel of solidified mashed potato flew off Olivia’s spoon and landed on her handbag. She picked it off with a tissue and pursed her lips.
“Oops, did I get you with that?” Olivia turned and gave Ava a grin that showed off the food in her mouth. “Sorry ‘bout that. Good thing it didn’t land on your suit—it looks expensive. Very nice.” She shovelled in another mouthful.
“Is it from that designer shop in the high street?” asked Charlotte.
Ava nodded. “Do you like it? I got it a few years ago for a knockdown price in one of their end of season sales. I was going to wear it at Harriet and Leo’s wedding, but I put on so much weight beforehand, I couldn’t get the zip done up. This is the first time I’ve had it on since I bought it.”
“I’d love to wear feminine stuff,” said Olivia, with globs of cold gravy and minced beef trapped in the corners of her mouth, “but you don’t seem to be able to get clothes like that for women my build; you know, pretty dresses, floaty skirts, stuff like that.”
“Of course you can!” said Charlotte. “You can get them for any build, and any size. I’m surprised to hear you like them, though. I’ve never seen you in anything other than trousers and tee-shirts.”
“That’s because they’re practical for work. And that’s where I spend most of my time. Well, used to spend most of my time. In any case, I wouldn’t have a clue where to start with skirts and dresses. I’ve hardly ever worn a skirt and I’ve never worn a dress. And as for makeup, well you can forget it. I was a proper tomboy when I was young and I ‘spose I’ve been one ever since.”
“Well, once this is all over, and the baby’s been born, why don’t we go shopping and get you a dress?” said Charlotte.
Olivia blushed. “I’m not sure I’m ready for a dress. Nice thought, though.” She spooned the last of the gravy into her mouth before putting the dish in a plastic bag and stretching out her long body. “Right, I think I need a kip before we get there. Just give me a poke if I snore.”
She yawned, reclined the seat, and was asleep in less than a minute.
____________
“Are you sure this is where he lives?” Charlotte slowed the car and pulled in to the kerb.
“Apparently,” said Olivia, rubbing her eyes and counting down the house numbers until they got to the right one. “After what happened, my Dad found out where he lived and tried to talk me into going to see him, but I wasn’t interested.”
Ava pressed her nose up against the car window. “Oh dear, it’s a bit of a rundown area, isn’t it? Do you want me to stay in the car in case someone tries to make off with your wheels, Charlotte? I could honk the horn to raise the alarm.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” said Charlotte, as she eased herself out from behind the steering wheel. “And stop being such a snob, Ava. Where he lives isn’t important, is it? I’m more concerned that he’s going to freak out when he sees Olivia, or call the police.”
Olivia waved her concern away. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t do either. He doesn’t hold a grudge, remember? And he won’t call the police, because even though they investigated the case, they didn’t think there was enough evidence to get a conviction against me. Anyway, all things considered, I think he’ll be okay with seeing me but if he isn’t, I’ll leave. I just want to apologise, so we won’t be here long. I’m not going to cause him any aggro.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Charlotte, swinging her handbag over her shoulder. “Come on then, let’s get this over and done with.”
Olivia nodded and walked up the path to the front door, Charlotte following behind and Ava bringing up the rear, concentrating on avoiding slipping down the cracks in the paving stones in her kitten-heeled court shoes.
She rang the bell and picked absentmindedly at the peeling paint on the doorframe as she waited for someone to answer. “I don’t think anyone’s home,” she said, after a few seconds, and turned to leave.
“Er, not so fast,” said Charlotte, holding up a hand. “If you think I’ve driven all the way over here so you can chicken out after getting this far, you’re very much mistaken. Now come on.” She dragged Olivia back to the front door and rang the bell again.
“I’m feeling really nervous now.” Olivia tugged at her collar and kicked at a tuft of dandelions with her huge boot.
A minute passed before they heard a shuffling noise on the other side of the door. “Who is it?”
Olivia looked at Charlotte in panic. “What shall I say?” she whispered.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “What d’you think you should say? Tell him it’s you, of course.”
Olivia gulped. “Is that you, Gordon? It’s Olivia. Olivia Floyd-Martin.”
The shuffling slowed. “Olivia?” The door opened a crack, and Gordon peered out. “Good grief! Talk about a blast from the past. What is this? A coach party?”
Charlotte poked Olivia in the back.
“Do you think we could come in?” She stepped awkwardly from foot to foot, not knowing what to do with her hands.
“I’m a friend of Olivia’s,” said Charlotte, with a smile, and stuck her hand through the crack in the door. “Charlotte Costello.”
“And I’m Ava Whittington. Charmed, I’m sure.” She waved her fingers at Gordon and flashed a smile. “I’ve just come along for the drive.”
They followed him into the kitchen where he nodded to a kettle, teapot and a cheerful patterned tea cosy; one of the few things in the kitchen that brought some colour to the beige surroundings. “You can make yourself a cuppa if you want, but don’t use the yellow cup, ‘cos that’s my sister’s, or the blue or red ones, ‘cos they belong to the carers. And don’t use the one with the picture of Princess Diana on it, either.”
He lowered himself into his armchair and his knee cracked like a gun shot. “Damn thing,” he grumbled, glaring at Olivia. “Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth open, woman; there’s plenty of tea and coffee in the cupboard. Make us a cup of something, or pull up a chair. You decide.”
“I’ll make a pot of tea,” said Ava, glad of the opportunity to keep her designer-clad bottom off the worn furniture for as long as possible. “This doesn’t really concern me, so you carry on.”
Charlotte sunk into the sagging, springless upholstery of a vinyl-covered stool. The old furniture may have seen better days, but everything was spotlessly clean, and a deliciously fresh fragrance scented the air.
"Well? Sit down, sit down!" Gordon motioned to Olivia with a hand and she immediately dropped into the biggest dining chair, making it look like doll’s house furniture as she squeezed herself into the space between the armrests.
Gordon looked around at his guests. He was pale - as though he rarely saw the sun - and thin and wiry. His hair floated around his face like wisps of silver candy floss, and his eyes were the palest blue.
He groaned until he was settled comfortably on his pressure cushion, then crossed his hands in his lap and fixed Olivia with a piercing stare. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Although I can probably guess what prompted the visit.”