Promise Me: Some friendships are made to be broken (Beggar's Choice #1)

by Lily Morton

  “No, probably not. So that’ll force him to move in with you and you can monitor the friend situation, but that’s only part of the problem. How are you going to keep him clean?”

  “Well that’s where you come in babe,” he says beguilingly. “You’re his sister Mabes, just as much as you’re mine. What’s wrong?” he adds sharply, and I realize that I haven’t controlled my wince of pain as much as normal. To be in love with someone who thinks of you as a family member is both painful and somewhat pitiful. It had also only got worse over the years as my feelings, rather than going away, had only grown stronger. I had coped with this lately by keeping our contact to a minimum which didn’t please Charlie, and I had a strong feeling that this was how he killed two birds with one stone.

  “What’s wrong?” he says again insistently. He’s like a dog with a bone if ever Sid and I have a problem, and I know he won’t leave this alone.

  “I’ve got a um …. I’ve got a bit of toothache,” I say lamely, only to instantly regret it when he rummages in his pocket to bring out his phone.

  “Phil,” he says and I know he’s talking to his assistant. “Mabe’s got toothache. Can you make her an appointment with my guy as soon as possible? Ta mate.” He rings off and catches my look. “No way Mabes,“ he says instantly. “I’m not having you in pain and I know you - if you’re in pain you’ll put it off because of the cash until it becomes a real problem. I’m paying and I don’t want any arguments.”

  I smile weakly, feeling very guilty, and make a mental note to ring Phil and get him to cancel the appointment as soon as Charlie leaves.

  “Okay,” I say simply and then seeing his suspicious look I revert back to the subject. “Go on then, finish this and tell me where I come in.”

  “Well, the important thing for addicts is that they change their habits and their whole routine. They have to lose the toxic friends and take up new hobbies. We need him to start eating properly and taking an interest in his health again.”

  “And sleeping properly,” I say considering. “He’s never slept properly. Do you remember how we used to call him Count Duckula when we were kids?”

  He laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. He needs to lead less of a twilight life. You see this is why I need you Mabes. I want you to move in with us so that we can be a family again. I know you exercise sometimes.” I wince at that and he laughs again. “Get him into that so he starts thinking healthy again and just be with him. I can’t be with him all the time so this is going to be a two man job watching over him for a bit.” I look sternly at him and he smirks. “Okay, a one man/one woman job. Look you know we’re recording and the boys are hoping that he’ll jump straight into that. He’s certainly raring to go, so I’ll keep an eye on him at the studio.”

  “Yes, but there’s always people selling gear near a band,” I say urgently. “How are you going to control that?“

  He leans forward and I smell his minty breath. “We’ve discussed this Mabe, and we’re in total agreement. It’s a clean studio or we’re out. Mark and the security team are going to see to it. We’re all family and he’s one of ours. There won’t be any drugs there.”

  Finally, I address the real problem and the reason that I haven‘t seen Charlie lately. “What about Noa? She really isn’t going to like this Charlie.” Noa is Charlie’s Spanish supermodel girlfriend who he‘s been seeing for three months, an absolute record for him, and something that I haven‘t seen before. She’s absolutely beautiful and together she and Charlie make a stunning couple. However, although her name means rest and tranquility, her personality is very far from this. She hates me with a passion and the feeling is very mutual.

  “She’ll be fine with it,” he says dismissively.

  “No, I really don’t think she will Charlie. I wouldn’t either and to be honest I’m in no hurry to meet her when she’s in a temper. I like my face as it is, and she’s got really sharp nails.”

  “Well put it this way, she’ll have to be fine with it because Sid comes first,” he says finally. I give in on this point reluctantly, because I know this is going to cause problems and I immediately divert the argument.

  “But why do I have to move in? Can’t I just come round?”

  His mood shifts instantly downhill and I know we’re coming to the crux of the matter. “No, that won’t work. Please Mabe, I’m begging you. I need you there, not just for Sid, but for me. I can’t do this on my own. I need you - you’re my best friend in the whole world and I know that he means as much to you as he does to me so I know he’s going to be totally safe with you.”

  I melt instantly because he’s said the magic words. If ever I know he needs me I’ll always be there and he knows that, damn him. I decide to put up a token resistance.

  “But babe, I work. I can’t be that much help during the day.”

  He smiles, and I know he’s caught my tacit admission that I’m going to do it.

  “Pack it in Mabe.”

  “Pack my job in?” I say in consternation.

  “Yep, pack the fucker in. I know for a fact that you hate your boss, and I can say for an absolute certainty that if I have to meet him again I’m going to smack him one, simply because of the way he letches over you and talks to you like you’re an idiot.”

  I don’t want to talk too much about this because it’s true, and last time Charlie met my boss he’d only got away with how rude he’d been because he was a founding member of one of the most successful groups in the world and my boss was aware of it. Calling someone a twat to their face and offering to relieve him of his teeth after hearing him shout at me over a ticket mix up, really only works for rock stars, definitely not for PA’s.

  “And how am I going to pay my mortgage and my bills?” I say and then groan. “No, Charlie you’re not paying those,” I say harshly. “I won’t be paid to look after Sid because that’s a privilege given to me because I’m family. I don‘t need your help.”

  “No, but I need yours,” he says loudly, and in a final tone of voice. “You never let me help you Mabe. For fuck’s sake you can’t think that I’ll think you’re a gold digger. You’ve known me since I was eight. I sure as fuck wasn’t a millionaire then.”

  “But you are now and more.”

  “So fucking what. Did you share your sweets with me when we were little?”

  “Yes,” I say, wondering where he’s going with this.

  “Well this is me sharing my sweets now.”

  We both laugh and then he sobers and speaks with a mesmerizing tone of voice. “You’re mine Mabe as sure as anything, and I look after my own. You’re doing Sid and me a massive favour so I’m going to pay the mortgage and your bills and I’m also going to give you some spending money. In fact I’m going to give you an obscene amount of spending money and you’re going to take it and spend it. I’m fucking sick of seeing you scrimping and saving. I simply won’t have you going without anymore, and that’s that.”

  “You are not paying me for helping Sid,” I say with great indignation, and I see it sink in finally. “I love him and that comes for free.”

  He smiles fully at me and just seeing the worry clear from his face is enough to compensate for the fact that I’ve just agreed to live with a man that I love with all my heart, who has no idea, and no way of returning that love.

  Oblivious to my concern he looks around the flat and barely conceals a shudder. “Okay, let’s get you packed up Mabe. In case you’re worried I don’t think you’re in any immediate danger of being burgled. I’ve heard of shabby chic but this is a totally new take on that. Let’s call it crappy shit. If anyone actually broke in here they’d pay you a fortune to let them out again!” He ducks, laughing as I try to punch him and just like that we’re back to normal.

  Two

  I can actually pinpoint the moment that I fell in love with Charlie Hudson. It was the summer that I turned thirteen and he was fifteen, and I was sitting in the old shed at the bottom of his garden, trying not to cry. The shed had
been taken over by Charlie and Sid many years ago as Jen was definitely not a gardener, and it had gone through many metamorphoses.

  Originally, it had been a pirate ship where I, as a maiden in distress, was supposed to wait (and wait, and wait) while the boys had battled other imaginary pirates, and I think I recall a few dragons thrown in as well. Then, it became our headquarters after I read ‘The Famous Five’, and persuaded them that we too could fight crime and solve mysteries. The Fearsome Three had actually lasted for quite a while until Jen got wind of it and we were told in no uncertain terms to pack it in following complete strangers about while talking in loud voices about how criminal they looked. For the last year however, it had become the home of Beggar‘s Choice, a band that Charlie and Sid had set up with two of their mates. They met every night after school to practise their cover versions, usually accompanied to my horror by a group of the most popular girls from our senior school. They would sit around, artfully flicking their hair and drooling over the boys, and gradually I had started to come over less and less.

  Charlie had taken senior school by storm with his combination of good looks which had got even better as he got older if that was possible, and his charm. He still took zero interest in how he looked but somehow he always looked scruffily perfect, and he had managed to charm all the major groups in school, while falling foul of no one. I, however had had a much more difficult transition. Most of the girls at school cared tremendously about their looks and clothes, and this was a battle in which I was never going to be a winner.

  “Mabes,“ came the sudden call from the garden, interrupting my bitter thoughts. “Where are you?”

  I said nothing but Charlie’s footsteps sounded out and then he was there filling the door. My heart gave an irregular flutter which had become a regular occurrence lately around him and I blushed. Pulling my hair slightly over my red cheeks I stared sullenly at Mr Popular.

  “What do you want?” I asked harshly.

  Manfully ignoring the fact that I was actually sitting in his shed he came and settled next to me.

  “Is it true?” he said gently.

  “Is what true?”

  “You were sent home from school today for punching Jessica Fanshawe.”

  “Yep,” I said popping the ‘p’ and looking at him challengingly.

  “But why? What did she do to you, because she’s always so sweet?”

  “Oh please Charlie, she’s sweet to you because she fancies you.” I ignored the slight blush staining his cheek and carried on ranting. “She’s definitely not sweet if you haven’t got a penis. In fact she’s a right bitch.”

  “But this isn’t like you. You’re not a fighter. What did she say?”

  I stayed silent. I wasn’t telling him this for all the tea in China, but then as now, I never reckoned on Charlie’s persistence. He might have been sweet but there was already a strong streak of don’t take the piss in him even then.

  “You’re going to tell me right now.” he said in a stern voice, but after one look at my face he dropped the sternness pretty quickly and settled for coaxing. “Come on Mabes, how can I make it better for you if I don’t know the problem?”

  I sniffed miserably. I could never resist Charlie for long because he truly was the other part of me. He alone knew me inside and out. “She was taking the mickey out of me,” I confessed miserably.

  “What could she possibly find to take the mickey out of you?” he said in heartwarming incomprehension.

  I swallowed hard and blushed even more and Charlie immediately slung his arm around me. “Come on,” he said in a low voice. “It’s just me - you can tell me anything and you know that.”

  “I don’t have a bra,” I blurted out, and felt him stiffen.

  “What?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Why not?”

  “Come on Charlie you’ve met my mum haven’t you? Does she look like she’s going to take me shopping any time soon? Whatever money we have, she and Harry smoke, and after that she’s always too stoned to take any notice. Anyway, Jessica was taking the piss about it because I’m definitely too big now to be without one.” I saw him shoot a lightning glance at my chest and swallow hard.

  “Is that it?” he said, his voice slightly lower now in a way that made me squirm a bit. “Anything else?”

  “No, she mentioned my hair and my clothes. It seems I’m just not cutting it with the fashion crew these days Charlie,” I said, trying for a light note. “My hemline is too short, and fraying on your clothing is just not in at the moment.”

  He was silent for a minute and then he stood up abruptly making me sway slightly. It was only then that I realized just how cross he actually was.

  “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out imperiously. “Let’s go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “To John Lewis of course,” he said casually, taking down an old battered Quality Street tin from the rafters. It jingled merrily and then I gasped as he took a roll of notes out of it.

  Seeing his intention I backed up sharply. “No Charlie, absolutely not. You’re not using that money.”

  “Oh yeah, who said so?”

  “Me. You’ve been working and saving for ages and I know you’re nearly there. There’s no way you’re spending your money on me.” He’d been saving for an amp for the band and had worked several jobs for a while.

  “Mabes,“ he said softly and came towards me, wrapping his arms around me and giving me one of his trademark crushing hugs. He caught me closer and spoke into my ear. “It’s me and you. It always will be, no matter what. I look after you and you look after me - yes?”

  “Yes, but this is different Charlie. This is too much.”

  “Who says? Was it too much when Sid and I hid round your house when my dad came back last year and you stole money off your mum to feed us?“ Their dad had reappeared briefly last year much to Jen and the boys’ distress, as he was a violent alcoholic.

  He caught my silence and smiled widely. “Come on,” he said. “You’ll be doing me a favour anyway. What teenage boy doesn’t want to legitimately hang around the ladies’ underwear department?”

  I laughed and took the hand he held out to me. “Okay, I’ll get a bra,” I said. “Thank you Charlie.”

  “Yes, and after that you’re getting a haircut and some new clothes.” Ignoring my protests he pulled me along. “Come on Rocky, let’s get you sorted.” Halfway down the garden he paused. “What about Viv?” he said, mentioning my spitfire of a friend. “What did she do? I can’t imagine that she didn’t do anything.”

  “She did,” I said wryly. “She held Jessica down for me.”

  His laughter followed us out of the garden.

  So that’s when I fell in love with him - when he showed me tact and understanding, and stood up for me when few other people did. Oh, and also because during the shopping trip he put a pair of knickers on his head and pretended to be Jessica Fanshawe.

  That love has been tested many times over the years as I, in the capacity of his best friend, have had to watch him with a multitude of women - a few serious, but most redefining the word casual. He was certainly an equal opportunities shagger, as he genuinely loved all women and they loved him back although none of them seemed to get the real Charlie, the one I knew. Still, every time he met a new one I would wait with baited breath for this to be the one - the one that he’d fall for. I knew it would be unbearably painful but, like pressing on a sore tooth, I kept watching and waiting while he remained oblivious to me.

  So, that’s how I fell in love with Charlie Hudson and it goes some way to explaining why I’m prepared to put my life on hold to help him. He made too much of a case last week. All he really had to do was tell me that he needed me and I would do it - I would always do it.

  ***

  One week later, and I’m standing in the bedroom of Charlie’s house which he has always set aside for me. It’s been a while since I’ve been here due to my ‘Keep Charlie at a Distance Plan’ and
I look around with fresh eyes. It’s a lovely room, decorated in cream and beige, with a massive, light oak sleigh bed which has masses of plump pillows and a beautiful sage green comforter stretched across it. When I lie in it, it’s like being in a really expensive hotel room. I even have my own bathroom stocked with every expensive beauty product known to women.

  When I first stayed in here I thought the products had been left behind by Charlie’s women whose numbers are, let’s admit it, legion. When I laughed about it to Charlie (making sure my real feelings were hidden) he’d been confused, and then told me earnestly that this was my room for always and I was to use it whenever I wanted. Looking around now I can still see no sign of any strange occupancy despite my four month absence.

  Just then a huge shout of ‘Mabe’ drifts up the stairs and turning, I grab my cardigan and move towards the door. Catching sight of my reflection in the enormous gilt mirror outside the bathroom door I stop and have a last check of my outfit. We’re going to pick Sid up this afternoon and Charlie’s been on edge since I arrived.

  I wonder if I’m dressed okay. I’m wearing an old White Stuff dress which is sleeveless and knee length with buttons running down the back and a belt that shows off my slim waist. The material has different sizes of blue, green and nude coloured dots on it, and I’ve teamed it with a pair of nude coloured ballet flats. I’ve always liked the dress because the blue brings out the colour of my eyes and flatters my hair. When I was little it was bright ginger, but as I’ve grown older it’s darkened until it’s a dark, almost wine red and it hangs down my back nearly to my waist. My skin is unusual for a redhead, in that I tan well and it’s still golden from last weekend when I went to the park with Viv, ostentatiously for exercise, but really for her to ogle the joggers. My face is thin and I have a small gap between my front teeth which I used to be selfconscious about to the extent of going through a stage of holding my hand over my mouth when I spoke. However, when I announced my attention to have it fixed Charlie threatened to rugby tackle me outside the dentist’s surgery, as according to him it was incredibly sexy. I suppose compared to a lot of women I’m not bad looking, even pretty when I make the effort, but compared to Charlie’s normal calibre of supermodels, particularly Noa, I look dull. I then give myself a metaphorical smack on the head.