Charlie Had His Chance

by Ellis Major

  Geoff laughed. “Aren’t you the Modern Man! A chap can respect a woman and admire her body at the same time.”

  “Geoff, at the present time Francesca and I have had a chat and seem to get on ok. We may just be friends no more than that.”

  “Story of your life, Charlie. Wait till Roddy hears,” Geoff exclaimed. “He’ll take up residence here, Lithuanian or no Lithuanian.”

  “I would be grateful, Geoff, if Roddy does not get to hear,” Charlie told him firmly. “If things do, er, develop then I would rather they develop without Roddy flashing his handsome face and trying to muscle in. He might decide he wants her more than his current Lithuanian lady, especially given Francesca can speak proper English.”

  “You want first crack, eh, you sly dog.”

  “It isn’t like that, Geoff. It isn’t some contest and Roddy never seems to get it. If something happens and it works out then she won’t be interested in anyone else. If it doesn’t then what do I care?”

  Geoff sat down and grinned. “Charlie Tiptree, the great romantic, dreaming of a true love he’ll never find. Alright, Charlie, but my silence has a price.”

  Charlie smiled ruefully. “I thought it might.”

  Geoff leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “You never seem to have much luck with the girls do you Charlie. I mean they like you but it never gets any further; no nooky.”

  “That’s not entirely correct.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” Laughter burst from Geoff. “Or the old chap gets his fun in the most unexpected of ways. You seem to end up trapped by the girls no one else would touch and we have to rescue you.”

  “Or their parents rescue them. Don’t rub it in.”

  “You should learn to say no earlier Charlie. Look at that mad creature who made after you at Bubble’s party. Surely you must have guessed what might happen.”

  Charlie hung his head. “I’d probably had a drop too much shampoo Geoff. It tends to fuddle the brain.”

  “But why go off with her through the gate into the graveyard?”

  Charlie sighed. “She said she wanted to go ghost hunting. I thought it sounded like a bit of a lark. It was a warm night.”

  “But the outfit, Charlie, didn’t that give you a clue?”

  “Oh come on Geoff it was a fancy dress do. There were several girls dressed as vampires. You were dressed as a pirate but that doesn’t mean you made anyone walk the plank.”

  “A woman dressed as a vampire wants you to go into a graveyard with her and no alarm bells sound at all. You must have been as pissed as a fart. Surprised you could get it up.”

  “I had no idea what she was going to do. We’d only just met.”

  “She must have found those manly Tiptree legs too much to resist.”

  “Well wearing a kilt seemed like a good idea given how warm it was.”

  “And very handy for the lady concerned once she revealed herself.”

  “I did wonder where she’d sneaked off to but when she rose up starkers from behind a grave and started her business about wanting me to get my blood up I was a bit shocked.”

  “Too shocked to scarper?”

  Charlie smiled. “You called her a ‘creature’, but most parts of her were pleasant enough in a large sort of way.”

  “So Charlie is rooted to the spot by a pale, wobbly vampire who then advances on him, throws him onto the roof of a vault, yanks up his kilt, has her evil way with him and then tries to suck his blood.”

  “At least it was more my shoulder than my neck she was biting at.”

  “And you couldn’t fight her off?”

  “She was a heavy girl like you said. I was in a bit of a glow and she had me crushed before I knew what was happening.”

  “At least you made a noise Charlie but we wondered what on earth was going on. Harvey thought you were setting up in competition with his barbecue. ‘Bring me stake and garlic’ is hardly going to indicate to anyone that you’re in trouble. ‘Help’ or ‘Murder’ is usually a better thing to shout.”

  “I wasn’t thinking all that straight. It was obvious enough to me from where I was lying.”

  “It was bad luck that the vicar was closest though.”

  Charlie made a face. “Unlucky in one respect but lucky in another. At least he had his crucifix handy and scared her off.”

  “Screeching like a fiend with that huge bum wobbling in the moonlight, ha, ha, ha.”

  Charlie sighed. “Wonder what happened to her.”

  Geoff laughed again. “Who cares, she probably got arrested for outraging public decency or behaviour likely to cause a breach of the peace. That’s the trouble with you Charlie. You’re too soft.”

  “She needed help though. She really bit me quite hard. She could do the same to other people.”

  “Worry about yourself Charlie. A flabby heifer all but rapes you, tries to suck your blood and makes you look like a total prat for being rescued by the vicar - who is not amused by what you have been up to in his graveyard. He gives you an earful about how the Lord can find space in his heart to forgive all sinners but that fornication in a place of eternal rest is a pretty low thing to be doing, and all you can do is worry about the poor naked blimp roaming the countryside scaring the cows out of their wits.”

  Charlie grimaced. “Isn’t exactly much of a love life is it.”

  “No it’s not.” Geoff smiled “As we’re having a heart to heart Charlie, what’s your ideal sort of woman, someone like this Francesca or someone like the blimp. Perhaps you like ‘em big Charlie, eh? There was that other one who went off to Patagonia wasn’t there.”

  Charlie laughed weakly. “Give a chap a break. I think it’s the big ones who like me. I do seem to have had more than my fair share of them jumping me, not that Pammy ever did.”

  He scratched his head. “What do I like, Geoff? What’s my ideal woman? I’d have to say that someone like Francesca isn’t far off at all in the looks department. I do like a blonde girl, Geoff, I don’t mind admitting, and a few curves are a must.”

  Again, Charlie thought of Rowena but the idea of inviting more laughter by mentioning her name meant that it was no more than a thought. And there was a fundamental problem with Rowena. Charlie frowned and sat forward. “But she has to enjoy a bit of a lark. Geoff don’t you think that’s important?”

  Geoff thought about this for a minute. “You probably want the impossible Charlie, a beautiful girl who’s romantic one minute and a good laugh the next and who happens to love you rather than anyone else.” He suddenly spluttered with laughter.

  “What is it?”

  “I suppose you’d want her to be fantastic in bed too.”

  “Well...”

  Geoff laughed again. “So what do we have, beautiful, funny, romantic, fantastic in bed, the perfect fantasy woman. Har, har, har. If you ever find her Charlie you’ll be about two billionth in the queue. You think this Francesca’s like that do you? I can see she has the looks and the curves.”

  “Early days,” Charlie reminded his friend, feeling that he had perhaps shared enough personal information for one day for Geoff’s amusement. Experience had taught him that confidences are sometimes abused.

  Chapter 14 - Could it be Magic? (Year 1 – Early October)

  Francesca next visited the flat for lunch and persuaded Charlie to play for her.

  “I have to be careful,” he told her. “I can only play quiet numbers and sing softly, nothing too loud.”

  “Why?” she asked him as he settled himself.

  He rolled his eyes. “The dragon lady upstairs. Mrs Fotherington.”

  Francesca leaned against the piano. “Then you’ll have to play something quiet and romantic for me, Charlie.”

  Charlie flexed his fingers and launched into a couple of slow Irving Berlin numbers. Francesca smiled down at him and praised him to the skies.

  “I wish I could sing,” she sighed wistfully.

  “You probably can but don’t know it,” Charlie
told her stoutly.

  She laughed. “Oh no Charlie. It would be embarrassing.”

  “Why don’t you give it a go? A lot of people never really try so they never really know. You probably have a great voice and just need to lose your inhibitions, let it out.”

  “No, Charlie, really.”

  “It’s just the two of us. I promise not to laugh.”

  “You’d have to promise not to cry. No Charlie. I know I can’t sing.”

  “Alright Frankie. I don’t want to pester you.” He played a few gentle chords. “How about some Cole Porter?”

  Charlie played and sang four songs. He began with Miss Otis Regrets, which Francesca had never heard before and loved, then Ace in the Hole before finishing with It’s Alright With Me and It’s Delovely.

  Her face had taken on a dreamy expression and when he’d finished she simply bent over him, put one hand under his chin, tilted his head up and kissed him gently on the lips.

  Charlie was quite dizzy what with the scent and the brushing of her hair against him.

  “Francesca,” he muttered. “I didn’t expect that.”

  She smiled lazily down at him. “Nor did I Charlie but I’m not complaining. Are you?”

  “No Frankie and I’d be happy to sing some more.”

  Her smile was promisingly wide. “And see what happens?”

  “And see what happens,” he repeated. He couldn’t quite believe this. He was in his own flat. She was beautiful, she was staring at him with something pretty affectionate in her eyes and she’d just kissed him. It wasn’t a graveyard, she wasn’t fat or thin or ugly, there was no hairy mother nearby or bristling father and no friends about to jump out with a bucket of flour.

  She leant down and whispered in his ear. “When is Lance definitely out for the whole day? It would be nice. We could have lunch, a glass of wine, you could sing and I could listen and see where we go from there. Would you like that Charlie? I think I would, just the two of us though, no one else to interrupt.”

  Charlie was about to say that Lance could be out of the flat whenever, but before he did so he saw that this would indicate some prior discussion had taken place. This might be interpreted as less than romantic, calculating even... She might be shy or awkward about what was going on and be uncomfortable with the idea of anyone else in the flat even being aware that she was considering sleeping with him – yes, really, with him!

  “Wednesday,” he told her. “To be sure.”

  “Nearly a week,” she sighed. “We’ll have to be patient then, won’t we?”

  ~~~

  “Your recital met with approval? I’ve always said you were impressive, Charlie.” Lance was listening to Charlie’s report.

  “Rather more than approval, Lance, to my surprise I have to say. She kissed me and promises more.”

  “More kisses, Charlie?” Lance’s nose was twitching.

  “More than kisses, Lance, hilarious though you may find that. Strange isn’t it, you muddle along through life, piss off one girl and all of a sudden another one strolls into your world and seems to like you.”

  “It may seem unusual, Charlie, but it is far from impossible. You like her still?”

  “No girl is perfect, Lance, but I have hopes. She likes dogs, for instance.”

  “How very unfortunate.”

  “She might grow out of it?”

  “I doubt it. Once the useless lolloping creatures have wormed their way into a person’s affections they don’t get displaced, even after the arrival of children.”

  Charlie sighed. “Children! Bit early to talk about them. If it all works out then there might be a choice – a dog, or a child. I don’t think I could cope with both.”

  Lance cleared his throat. “When’s the big day?”

  “Next Wednesday.”

  “Fine, yeah, I’m at the club all day.”

  “Perfect Lance. I can’t quite believe it, really I can’t.”

  “There’s many a slip, Charlie.”

  “Don’t count my chickens. I know Lance, I know only too well.”

  Francesca called Charlie the following day to thank him for lunch and to say how much she was looking forward to the following week. There was a rich note of promise in her voice which left Charlie tingling all over. He began to count the days and was a sore disappointment to anyone he met, being distracted and distant. She didn’t call to cancel. In fact she called him again on Sunday to talk sweet nothings. He wished he could record her. She was cheerful and affectionate.

  ~~~

  On Monday Charlie was surprised to learn that it was Mr Smith making a delivery when Lance answered the door.

  Lance entered the room with a CD.

  His face was grave.

  “What’s up Lance?” Charlie asked.

  Lance sat down heavily and handed the CD to Charlie. “Look,” he said. “I don’t know exactly what’s on this but it’s not good news.”

  Charlie frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Francesca,” Lance told him. “Listen to it and give me a shout when you want to talk, if you do.”

  Oh dear, thought Charlie. Lance’s face was extraordinarily grim. Charlie put the CD in the stereo. ‘Let’s get it over with,’ he muttered to himself as Lance slipped out of the room.

  Mr Smith’s voice began.

  ‘On a personal note I would like to say that the only satisfaction I derive in bringing this news is that it should save Mr Tiptree from an awkward situation. I would, of course, much rather have reported positively.

  ‘The subject, Francesca Evesham, currently resides in a one bedroom flat in Pinner. She shares this with a certain Mr Daren Menvies Stith. Our researches indicate that Miss Evesham’s family are from Warwickshire and that her father is recently retired from the Army and was indeed a Major.

  ‘We have indications that Miss Evesham may be deceiving her parents as mail is addressed to a Miss Wendy Gale at the address in Pinner, as well as to Miss Evesham and Mr Stith.

  ‘We have monitored Miss Evesham’s phone messages and it is clear that Mr Tiptree is the subject of a conspiracy. Included herein is a selection of recordings. The first is the most revealing and others are merely included for corroboration.’

  A slow sigh escaped Charlie’s lips as he heard Wendy Gale’s voice.

  ‘So how are you getting on? Is the little shit hooked yet?’

  Francesca, for it was undoubtedly her, replied. ‘He’s well on the way. Next Wednesday is when I get him into bed and then it’s just a matter of time.’

  Charlie cringed.

  ‘You’re definitely going through with it? Don’t get cold feet, Fran, please.’

  ‘Of course I’m going through with it. He has some nice points and I’d feel better if he was a complete prat but he’s just so perfect. He’s well meaning and naive and he’s going to be parted from his money by someone soon enough, so it might as well be me. At least it’s for the best possible reason.’

  ‘Is Daren really willing to let you get pregnant and get married?’

  ‘He’s an Artist, Wendy; that’s what he lives for. He doesn’t mind where the money comes from as long as it keeps coming until he gets his break.’

  ‘And you’ve no doubt that he’s going to make it? I mean I don’t know as much as you about the current art scene but isn’t there a limit on what you can tell the world with cowpats and the rest of it?’

  ‘Wendy, he’s barely begun to explore its full potential. One day he’s going to be famous all over the world and the much poorer little Charlie Tiptree will have helped fund him without even knowing until it’s too late.’

  ‘So, you’ll get yourself pregnant, which means he mustn’t take precautions.’ Wendy laughed. ‘He’s such an arsehole that he’ll just believe you if you tell him you’re on the pill and he probably thinks STDs are something to do with telephones.’

  ‘Let’s hope I can get up the spout pronto, then Daddy turns up and a very quick and quiet wedding is arranged.’


  ‘And after that, Daren or someone will knock you about and Charlie gets the blame.’

  ‘That’s it, although I don’t press charges. I don’t hate him or anything.’

  ‘Shame, but I can see you wouldn’t want criminal charges and things getting in the papers. And the domestic abuse is followed by huge divorce settlement.’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘What about the pregnancy?’

  ‘I’ll terminate if I can, although I can’t do that if the divorce isn’t sorted. If I have to have it then it can get adopted or Charlie can have custody. I’m sure he’ll be a doting father in a much smaller flat than he has now, once my lawyer has finished with him. Either way I won’t keep it. Daren can’t have children around.’

  ‘I suppose there are health issues with his chosen medium.’

  ‘Forget the health issues. He won’t have time for children. How can he be creative with a brat crawling around the place?’

  Charlie had heard enough. He ejected the CD and put it carefully in its case. He sat back in his chair and stared up at his print of the Laughing Cavalier.

  “Well may you laugh, old man,” he murmured as he heard Lance’s soft knock at the door.

  “Lance, come in,” he called. “You’ve rather saved my bacon.”

  Lance was carrying a tray with Charlie’s favourite vodka martini.

  “I thought that a pick-me-up wouldn’t hurt you sunshine.”

  “You thought quite right, Lance. What a bitch! And that Wendy Gale! Jesus, all I did was be honest about her singing and she sets me up with that creature. It explains why I hadn’t seen Francesca earlier in the weekend. Wendy Gale must have seen me, knew what Francesca was after, and called her in. No wonder Wendy was all smiles when we met after looking less than friendly when she first saw me.”

  Charlie took a sip. He was sad but immensely relieved. “What made you think of asking Mr Smith to check her out?”

  “Blind luck, Charlie, nothing more. I’d forgotten something and I was coming back to the flat when she was arriving for lunch the other day. Of course she doesn’t know what I look like and was mouthing off on the phone. It was almost certainly that Gale shit she was talking to. I guessed it was Francesca from how you’d described her but the way she was talking was odd. She was saying something sharply, like ‘yes, I’m nearly there. I’ll get the first kiss in today’. It didn’t sound right.”