You Never Told Me

by Sarah Jasmon

  ‘Is it still a penny for them, or has inflation changed it for ever?’

  ‘What?’ She belatedly realized Dave was talking. ‘Sorry, miles away.’

  ‘No worries.’ He didn’t carry on with whatever it was he’d been saying, and they walked along in silence for a while, the sound of their feet falling into rhythm with each other.

  ‘You’ve never said, you know, about the boat.’ Charlie looked round at him in the end, suddenly curious. They’d talked about a lot of things, but more about her than Dave.

  ‘What about it?’ Dave seemed relaxed, but his pace sped up a little at her question. Charlie reached out and snapped the head from a strand of cow-parsley. The umbrella of tiny blossoms spun as she twirled the stem.

  ‘Why have I got it rather than you? I mean, you said you wanted a boat.’ For a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. Then he shook his head and picked a flower-head for himself, systematically stripping off the petals as he spoke.

  ‘Bad timing, really. I mean, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.’ He was down to the last few, the elderflower a mass of tiny stalks. With a flick, he tossed it into the water. ‘The boat was their thing, my mum and dad’s. A retirement thing, you know. But when Mum got ill, they couldn’t use it any more. They even offered it to me.’ He gave a brief, humourless laugh. ‘But I’d just met someone, we were making all these plans. I didn’t have the headspace to see ahead. And then …’ He reached for another stalk, began to strip that as well. ‘Mum died, the relationship broke down. Everything was a bit of a mess. I think on one level I was waiting for Dad to suggest it again, but he didn’t.’

  ‘I’m really sorry.’ Timing. Charlie could appreciate how that played out.

  ‘Not your fault.’ He tossed the second stalk away as well and gave her his half-smile. ‘It’s the way it goes, isn’t it? Maybe you needed it more than I did. The universe works it out in the end.’ There was a pause. ‘Look, it’s really helped being able to do this with you, to help you. I’ve been in a bad place, and this has made a difference.’

  The road was quiet as they made their way along to the house. Charlie pointed it out, checking the drive as she did so. There was no sign of Max’s car. Dave nodded and moved ahead. Charlie was going to peel off early, taking the alley a few houses short to make her way around to the back. From there, she’d be able to see into the garden. Dave would go to the door, pretending to be checking for a misdelivered parcel in order to see if Zoe was there. Charlie watched him walk away. This was ridiculous. They were acting out a very bad pilot episode for a series that would flop. Dave turned, giving her a quick double thumbs up. She was on the edge of calling him back to say she’d changed her mind.

  ‘Hey, Charlie?’

  The sound of the voice behind her made her jump, in the way that never convinced her on television: one hand to her chest, an exaggerated breath out. It was Steve, a neighbour from a couple of doors down, walking down the alley towards her.

  ‘Oh, hi, how are you?’ She could see Dave going up the drive, waiting at the door. It was all going to descend into a horrible, second-rate cliché.

  ‘I’m good, yeah, all good.’ He stood there, a slightly overweight guy dressed in clothes that were just a bit too young for him. She could spot the moment when he became embarrassed. He looked round to check that Max wasn’t there, then down at the ground. She’d only ever met him properly once or twice. He was divorced, had spent one very long evening at another neighbour’s housewarming telling her about his battle to have his sons spend more time with him. ‘So …’ The pause lengthened. ‘You’re back in England.’

  ‘Yep.’ Charlie glanced down the road again. Dave would be coming back any minute. It didn’t look as if anyone had come to the door. ‘Steve, can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure, yes.’ He looked uncomfortable. If he’d been wearing a shirt and tie, he’d have had to run a finger around the collar. He must be expecting her to ask him about Zoe.

  ‘Mrs Crabbe, you know, on the other side of us?’ He gave a cautious nod. ‘She was saying that Bella gets left outside a lot. You know, our dog?’

  ‘Look, I don’t want to get involved.’ He glanced about him, as if expecting to see Max hanging over him, hearing him take sides. Then he took a deep breath. ‘There is a lot of barking sometimes.’

  Charlie barely waited for long enough to respond. She ran down the alley, almost falling into the narrow path that ran along the back of all the gardens. People kept their bins here, children’s toys that were OK in the rain. One house had a motorbike chained to a concrete post. Breathing hard, Charlie slowed as she reached her old gate. She didn’t want Bella to hear her and be jumping at the fence in excitement. That would only tell her the dog was outside now, not how often. Here was the familiar blue-painted wood, the gate with a circular porthole shape cut out in the top half. She sensed rather than heard Dave come up behind her, and held up a warning hand.

  Bella was sitting in a forlorn bundle just short of the back step. There was a plastic dog bed some distance from her, a thin blanket hanging over its edge. As Charlie watched, she got to her feet, trying to go towards the back door. Something was stopping her though. She was on a chain, the end attached to one of those corkscrews that dug into the ground. As they stood there, it began to rain.

  ‘Right, that’s it.’ Charlie turned to Dave. ‘There wasn’t anyone in, was there?’

  ‘Nope. I rang a couple of times and knocked.’ He gave the gate a nudge. ‘This is locked, right?’

  ‘I think so. Give me a foot up?’

  Bella spotted her before she’d even got one leg onto the fence. Charlie fell over the wall to the accompaniment of wild yips and whining. She stumbled across, calling out calming words as the little dog leapt against the restraint of the chain. When she got to her, it was all she could do to contain the mad jumps and frantic licks. The confusion made her struggle to unclip the chain from her collar. Her hands were trembling almost too much to work, and she kept expecting to hear someone coming to intervene, Zoe arriving back. She’d almost have welcomed that, mind. She had a few things she wanted to say.

  It wasn’t until, dog in arms, she’d got back to the gate that she realized she didn’t have a lead. There was nothing lying around either. She’d just have to look out for something on the way, carrying Bella in the meantime. Dave took Bella, and Charlie followed, tears of emotion blurring her vision. And then Bella was squirming back to her and they were running away, back to the canal, back to the boat.

  ‘So, tell me again what kind of dog she is?’

  They’d found a corner shop which sold all sorts of stuff, including leads and dog toys. Dave was carrying a plastic bag filled with purchases, and Charlie stopped to grab another handful of treats from it.

  ‘She’s nothing definite.’ Squatting down, Charlie let Bella jump up on her knee and lick her face again. ‘Some kind of terrier, though it’s hard to know which one. Something else that was black and white. The best kind, in fact. Big enough to keep up, small enough to sit on your knee.’

  The sun had made its way out, though the ground was still wet underfoot. They were about halfway back to the boat, and Bella was beginning to make wider forays around, going after interesting smells. She didn’t venture far, though, and kept stopping to check that Charlie was still there.

  ‘Let me try her with a biscuit again.’ Dave held it out towards her, but she wouldn’t come up to him. ‘Nope, still not having it.’

  ‘Give her a bit longer,’ Charlie said. She felt like a mother whose child wouldn’t say thank you. ‘It’s been a strange time for her.’

  ‘How do you think she’ll be on the boat?’

  Charlie stood up, clicking her fingers at Bella to get her moving in the right direction. ‘I haven’t even thought about that. Do you think she needs a life jacket?’

  ‘I don’t think she’s going to go far enough away from you to worry about the water,’ Dave said. ‘So looks like I’m on lock duty this afte
rnoon.’

  ‘How far do you think we’ll get?’ Charlie was glad to hear that he wanted to be moving straight away. She felt edgy alongside the pleasure of having Bella back, and aware of an anger she wasn’t letting herself acknowledge completely. Because, although the straightforward rage at how they’d found Bella was enough to keep her walking, it wasn’t as simple as she’d hoped. However easy it was to build up a head of steam against Zoe, and however furious she was at how Max had let her down, she couldn’t quieten the voice that told her it would never have happened if she hadn’t left.

  She managed to keep it all in until the evening. They’d made their way back down half of the locks and moored up for the night, with Bella adapting to the new way of travelling without any obvious trouble. They’d eaten as well, and had just come back from a last little walk for Bella on the bank when it happened.

  Three mallards were circling a female. The duck paddled in a circle, making a break for the bank, but one of the drakes jumped on her, holding her head down under the water. She broke away, but her assailant was too fast, grabbing her neck with an outburst of noise. Charlie looked around for something to use, a rock, a branch. There was nothing there, just clumps of grass, twigs of spindly hawthorn. Nothing on the boat roof, or at least nothing she wanted to throw into the water. Then she spotted the mid-rope, coiled in its place, but on the near side. It might reach. She stepped onto the gunnel, lifting the coil as she’d done when throwing it out to Mary, one half in each hand. Leaning as far across as she could, she let it go. The tail end fell a little short of the still brawling group of ducks. It created enough of a splash to make them break apart, though, and just as the female got away, batting at the water with her wings before taking off in flight, Charlie’s foot slipped and she lost her balance. She didn’t go all the way in, just one leg, but her arm was wrenched where she was still holding on to the boat, and the pain made her cry out.

  Dave reached her just as she jumped over to the bank.

  ‘That’s enough rescuing for one day.’ She felt his hand feeling over her damaged shoulder. ‘It’s all right, nothing broken.’ It was, though. It felt, just at that moment, that everything was broken, and she turned to bury her head into his shoulder. ‘Hey, what’s all that about?’ He had an arm around her now, his voice gentle in her ear. And the gentleness made her cry even harder.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m crying.’ She clung on, too tired suddenly to stand without his support. Bella was scratching at her leg, wanting to know what was wrong. Charlie put a hand down to pet at her head, to reassure her. She needed to get herself together, but it was hard to move away from the warmth of Dave’s arm. It was so long since she’d been like this, with the feeling of a hand pressed against her back, shoulder bone and T-shirt against her cheek. The soft skin of a neck. It was always so untouched there, under the chin. She wanted to reach up and stroke it, but then the moment would end. It would end any minute anyway.

  TWENTY

  The sounds of the canal carried on around them. A splash and some final quacks from the ducks, still trying to work out where the female had gone. A late blackbird, giving one final chorus of joy from the hedgerow. Dave’s heart, beating against her. Was it beating as fast as hers?

  ‘I need to get that rope in,’ she whispered at last.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ His voice was husky, and he didn’t move at first. When he did, the emptiness was a shock, and she couldn’t move to do anything. Instead she waited, the inevitability holding her in place. Bella had moved away to investigate a smell in the long grass, and Charlie watched her snuffle as she listened to the sound of the rope leaving the water, being coiled and placed on the roof. Then Dave was back, standing in front of her with a question in his face. She nodded, a tiny movement, and led the way back into the boat.

  They were moving together, an almost imperceptible rocking motion, and her brain was closing down. She pulled away for a moment, unsure if she wanted to give herself a chance to draw back or offer that opportunity to Dave. He showed no sign of wanting to retreat, though he wasn’t charging in either. She felt his thumb very gently rub against her neck. A small gesture, opening up for the next move to be hers. In response, she leaned very slightly closer in.

  His heart was beating against her again, this time with a fast and jerky rhythm. His T-shirt was warm, the cotton slightly damp and smelling faintly of fresh sweat. Her skin bloomed into a million tiny explosions as his palms moved, fingers spreading out across the small of her back. She made her own exploratory move, slipping one palm down over his shoulder blade, and then round to the front, moving up to his chest. Her touch snagged on his T-shirt, grazing the nipple underneath. Dave made an inarticulate sound and any rational thought left her.

  They stumbled through the kitchen in an awkward, three-legged gait, clothes coming off, skin not losing contact. Charlie couldn’t recall the last time she’d kissed with this intensity. It was as if her whole being was there, in the stretching of her lips, the squirming contact of their tongues. And then they were on her bed, Dave bare-skinned beneath her. She had never been this wet, never been this ready to explode. His fingers brushed down her stomach, strayed into her pubic hair. She was so ready. Just a touch lower and she’d be gone. She could already visualize the waves of response, the feel of him inside her, building to his own climax. And then, just as he was about to get there, he moved his hand away.

  The pause was momentary. She could feel the inside of her knee against his thigh, his fingers curving around her bottom. And then, without warning, he pushed her over, swapping their positions with a grasp that was both possessive and urgent.

  ‘Condom?’ His voice was ragged and croaky.

  It took a moment for the word to make its way through. She just wanted him to keep going, to keep touching. She wanted to close her eyes and let the senses take over, but also to see where her hands were moving. The line on his arm where tan faded into paleness, the muscles on his thighs, the smoothness of his chest. ‘On the pill,’ she managed, reaching for him.

  ‘We can stop if you want.’

  ‘No, please.’ She pulled him in, felt him hard against her. The moment had shifted things a little, though. It was all still there, the need, the receptors on her skin alive for his touch, but the rhythm had changed, had come somehow out of sync. His touch wasn’t quite in the right place, and ended too soon, or moved away from the exact right spot to leave her just short of the tipping point. And then it became the two of them scrabbling around in the sheets, the second-hand thrill of hearing his voice burst out, as if in pain. And the tension breaking as Bella skittered through from the sofa in answer to the call, jumping on the bed to thrust a cold nose against their faces.

  They stayed together in the exhausted aftermath. Dave slept and she watched him sleep, the weight of his arm heavy across her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed it. Maybe it always took some time to get it working for both of them. Though would they end up taking that time? She wasn’t sure. So many things she wasn’t sure about. Her hand moved, its familiar touch bringing a surprisingly satisfying end to the encounter, and finally she slept.

  TWENTY-ONE

  She was woken by her phone ringing, and rolled to one side to grab at it. Dave was gone, in the kitchen with Bella by the sound of it. Eleanor’s name was on the screen.

  ‘Hello.’ She hadn’t got around to checking the time, had no idea if it would be appropriate to sound as if she’d just woken up.

  ‘Late night?’ Eleanor’s tone made her think it was late enough. ‘I thought I should check in, see how you were getting on.’

  Charlie dragged her mind back to their last call. How many days ago had it been, three? Four, even? She remembered crying on the phone. She was going to have to stop that, all the crying on people. Look what it got her into. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting against her pillows. ‘Yes, I’m all right, good actually. Sorry, I did mean to call, but it’s been a bit busy.’ She couldn’t
decide whether to tell Eleanor about Bella or not. She probably wouldn’t approve, would think she should have waited to sort it out properly, like a grown-up. And telling her would also mean explaining about Dave, and she really didn’t want to get into that. Not yet, anyway. As if on cue, Dave’s face appeared around the curtain. She gestured to be quiet, pointed to the phone. He mimed drinking and she nodded.

  ‘Is someone there?’ Eleanor’s extra-sensory perception made her jump. How had she picked up on that?

  ‘No, just someone on the bank. Look, I’ve got loads to tell you, but can I call back in a bit? I need some coffee.’

  ‘Yes, sure.’ It struck her that Eleanor sounded tired and irritable. ‘Poppy, no, leave that alone, put it DOWN.’ Charlie held the phone away until the volume decreased. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Can you make it after bedtime?’ And she was gone before Charlie could agree.

  Charlie swung her legs over the edge of the bed, noticing that her clothes had been picked up and folded into a neat pile. She reached for her T-shirt and pulled it on. There was time for a shower before she did anything else.

  As she stood under the water, letting it run for longer than she usually allowed herself, she thought about Dave, about the previous night. How much had it complicated things? How much did she want to take from it? And, if she did, what would he want to do? He’d seemed to be saying that he’d be heading off after going back down the locks. She ran it around in her head as she washed off the traces of their encounter. It would be neat, in a way, saying goodbye more or less where he’d met up with her. And she wanted to, maybe needed to, do the next stage of the journey by herself. Sneasham and Margareta. Was there any chance of finding an answer?