Charlie Had His Chance

by Ellis Major

  “Hello, Lance.” She had a big smile for him. “Thank you, darling. I have the distinct impression that if it wasn’t for you I might have been waiting a lot longer. Now Charlie I want to show you something, just so you can truly understand how I feel.”

  She reached for an envelope that she’d tucked down the front of her dress and handed the Get Well card to him.

  Charlie read it and then passed it to Lance.

  Charlie was disgusted. “Rowena, this is horrible. I would never....”

  “I know, Charlie. In the end I worked out that I had to trust my own instincts. Because if I can’t do that, then I might as well give up on living.”

  Charlie gazed at her. He felt like crying again. Not only had she waited, she had seen this filthy slur for what it was without even needing to ask him. He hadn’t thought that it was possible to love her any more than he already did, but knew now that he had been wrong. Love could be limitless and even infinite.

  “Where was this dropped off; at the club?” Lance had read the odious message and was staring intently at Rowena.

  She nodded.

  “The cameras are very well concealed there so she can’t have noticed them,” Lance told her.

  “She certainly didn’t seem to have done.” Rowena was sombre. “You know who sent this, do you?”

  “Blonde,” said Lance. “A cheap and nasty imitation of you. A very evil piece of work whose scam failed. It’s nothing, Rowena, nothing at all. Just a cheap attempt at revenge.”

  Rowena raised an eyebrow a fraction. “From what I could see on the camera, she was very attractive.”

  “If there’s one person in the world who proves that beauty is only skin deep, it’s her. I think maybe she needs a visit.” Lance clearly was not envisaging that tea and cucumber sandwiches would figure in the experience.

  Rowena shook her head and smiled. “She’s failed. That’s probably as much punishment as she needs. We could get the lawyers to send her a letter with a still from the CCTV, but not today. I’m just glad I saw it for what it was.”

  There was a rustle behind Rowena and the vicar loomed out of the gloom.

  “You were quite right, my dear,” he said to Rowena with a benevolent smile. “Your faith was not misplaced. Shall we do the deed? I suspect there are some rather glum guests at that Reception who could do with cheering up.” His smile took in Charlie. “I hope you know how fortunate you are, young man.”

  “I do, I do,” said Charlie “I do!” – and he said it again, very soon afterwards, with even more feeling.

  Epilogue

  “Well Arnold, I fer one am glad I ‘ave a sound Yorkshire bladder.” Marigold Sproate rose from the pew once the church was truly empty. A pillar had acted as perfect camouflage for her and her husband.

  Arnold sighed. “Eeeh, thank t’Lord for large mercies! E’en so I won’t be sorry ter see t’hotel. Well what a terdo, Marigold Sproate. London folk are strange. Imagine in Yorkshire turning oop three hours late liike a scarecrow who’s coom off worse in a battle wi t’birds.”

  Marigold Sproate snorted and took her husband’s arm. “You wouldn’t ‘ave missed it for t’world. You were as keen as me when I saw t’announcement, and we found a nice site for t’new emporium in that there Covent Garden.”

  Arnold groaned. “Though I could rent half of Harrogate for t’money they want.”

  “It’s turnover, Arnold, you know that. Throughput. Look at all t’people. It were liike Scarborough on a warm Sunday.”

  “It were Marigold, although not so scenic.”

  Marigold bridled, as if his comment were so obvious as to not be worth making. “There’s nowt as scenic as Scarborough,” she said. “Except t’moors, and yon lass.”

  “Moost ‘ave a bit o’Yorkshire in ‘er,” Arnold opined, a suggestion with which Marigold concurred wholeheartedly.

  “Eeh, pretty as a picture with a bit o’backbone not liike t’ other soppy, southern piece o’ tripe. E ain’t a bad lad but, by ‘eck, ‘e’s a lucky one.” Marigold smiled fondly at the memory of Charlie’s midnight kiss, and at how his dejection when his boss had fled left her rather touched.

  “Plenty more fish in t’sea,” Arnold announced. “That were what I said at time, if you recall.”

  Marigold nodded. “I do, and you were right. Nice what she said to the boy, that Rowena. Bit wordy, but that’s southerners for you.”

  “I liike a girl wi a bit o’backbone,” Arnold mused. “Liike you, Marigold, there’s summat about her. She’s a real woman not a girl, and knows her mind.”

  “You curb your thoughts, Arnold Sproate. We’re in t’house o’ t’Lord.”

  “Time we were off then, Mrs Sproate. You think we’ll hear owt of ‘em again?”

  “I’d liike ter know what they get up to. Mebbe we’ll hear. Yon lass is the sort the cameras love, Arnold.”

  “We’ll read t’papers, Marigold. Sounds liike the boy might ‘ave saved her life.”

  “Wi that big dark lump who came in with ‘im and t’other milksop.”

  “T’big ‘un we saw before in Devon. Eeh, Marigold, ‘e’s an ‘ard lad. Least every southerner’s not a pooof.”

  “No, Arnold; there’s always an exception that proves t’rule. Our Charlie were an orphan I ‘eard, when t’other girl had gone an’ all t’natterin’ were goin’ on.”

  The Sproates had reached the door of the church and Arnold reached forward to do the honours.

  “Shame,” he said. “Wonder what ‘appened to ‘em. No parent would’ve let ‘im take the chance the lad took with yon lass.”

  “Nay, but t’lass ‘ad soom gumption. Charlie might ‘ave ruined ‘is chance but she weren’t going to let ‘im. Nor were that Lance.”

  Arnold glanced upwards as Marigold preceded him. “If yewer watchin’,” he muttered, his words drifting into the darkness “Yewer lad’s done ‘imself proud. All t’money in t’World can’t buy a jewel liike ‘er.”

  Marigold shook her head indulgently. “Arnold Sproate! You, t’hard man of business? Coom a wedding yewer as soft as one of yewer jelly babies!”

  The door creaked to a close. All was silent, all was still. The Vicar would shortly return to extinguish the candles, all but two, that was. For no sooner had the Sproates gone on their way, to lambast the erratic London electricity supply and to unfavourably compare it with what was available in Yorkshire, than the flames on the two largest candles, nearest the Altar, had flickered and, simultaneously, died.

  Were two restless spirits now at peace?

  THE END

  It may be the end of this book but, as Rowena pointed out, she and Charlie have the rest of their lives….

  For those who may be interested Our Love is Here to Stay? reveals what befalls Charlie and Rowena on their Honeymoon and thereafter. Lovers of pornography (sorry, erotica) may find themselves disappointed, although the tale is not without the odd frisson of excitement in other respects.