Heyyy! I have it on very good authority – well, a very good hunch – that you are having an old-fashioned romance with another guy. It’s never been my style to cramp somebody else’s, so I’ll bow out leaving the field properly clear for him. Wishing you all the best with B! Xx
Charlie hit the send button, congratulating himself on a no-fuss extrication from Kev. He’d barely tossed the mobile across his desk when it began to ding like an impatient guest ringing Basil Fawlty’s desk bell.
‘Blimey, you’re popular,’ said Ben. ‘Who’s that?’
‘No one important,’ Charlie grinned.
He felt so liberated.
‘Sounds like you’re important to them,’ said Ben. ‘Mate, if you’re not going to reply, switch your phone to silent. I need to crack on with my report, and that endless dinging will drive me dotty.’
‘Sorry.’
Still grinning, Charlie picked up the phone again and switched it to silent. The WhatsApp messages were still coming in. One sentence at a time. They were all from Kev. Obviously. He had no intention of reading them. He didn’t want two blue ticks letting her know he’d acknowledged them. However, the texts were flitting through the screen and, as the last chat bubble appeared, his eyes snagged on Kev’s last words.
If you don’t reply to my messages, I will tell Willow EVERYTHING.
Charlie’s grin disappeared as if he’d wiped it with a double dose of vanishing cream.
Seventeen
Charlie clicked on Kev’s texts and read them properly.
There were six in total. The emotion in her messages had gone, in seconds, from a speed of nought to ninety. She’d started texting in stunned disbelief, but concluded with full-blown anger:
Charlie Bear??? You must be pranking me!
Who the heck is ‘B’?
Wait… you seriously think I’m in TWO relationships?
How dare you accuse me of going with another guy.
And how DARE you dump me by text.
If you don’t reply to my messages, I will tell Willow EVERYTHING.
Charlie gulped as he re-read that last text. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his windpipe. He had to resist a sudden urge to dash to the loo and empty his bowels. How had he got this so wrong? But he hadn’t. Surely. Ben had mentioned wanting to speak to his new lady last night, so why else would Ben have been outside Kev’s house?
Because Ben was doing exactly what he TOLD you he was doing, said Charlie’s inner voice. Clearing his head as he drove aimlessly about, before coming up with a master plan to buy a swanky bachelor pad in Ebbsfleet. Landing up outside Kev’s house was simply a coincidence. Mosley isn’t exactly the size of America, you moron!
Charlie groaned. He’d now done exactly what he’d previously hoped to avoid… dumped Kev by text and majorly pissed her off. He couldn’t risk Kev carrying out her threat and telling Willow. Charlie wouldn’t put it past her to now do that. She was the sort of woman you didn’t scorn. Not unless you wanted your life wrecked.
You’re the one who’s single-handedly wrecking his life, said his inner voice. Why did you ever get involved with Kev in the first place? Of all the females on the planet, why her?
Charlie couldn’t answer that question. Kev had more faults than the cracks in Earth’s crusts, and could be feistier than a racehorse waiting for the off at the Grand National. But combine the two together, and somehow it gave a heady sexual chemistry. What the heck was he going to do? But… Kev had to be Ben’s new love interest. It was too much of a coincidence that Ben had been outside her house last night. Kev must be pretending not to know who ‘B’ was. Perhaps she was faking outrage because she didn’t want to let Charlie go for the time being. He needed to get to the bottom of this. He glanced at Ben.
‘Hey, I know you’re knee-deep in the Carpenter account, but I’d really appreciate – I mean, like, really appreciate – you telling me the name of your new lady.’
Ben frowned.
‘Whatever for?’
Charlie struggled to think of a quick answer.
‘Well, I’m assuming she’s local. Is it possible she might – I dunno – ever call at my house? You know, to see you after you’ve moved in with us?’
‘She won’t call at your house.’
‘She might do.’
‘She won’t.’
‘But what if she does?’
‘Then I’ll properly introduce her to you,’ said Ben, looking mildly amused. ‘But it’s highly unlikely she’ll come a-calling because I have no plans to tell her where I’ll be temporarily living.’
Charlie changed tack.
‘I think I know who she is,’ Charlie blurted in a desperate bid to goad Ben into revealing this woman’s name.
‘Really?’ said Ben, suddenly wary. ‘Go on, then. Who is it?’
Charlie fixed Ben with a look designed to make him crumble and confess all.
‘It’s Kev.’
‘Come again?’ Ben scowled. ‘Are you implying I want to leave Anna because I’ve fallen for a bloke?’
‘Wait… I mean… you see… what I meant is Kev is the name that I–’
‘If you think this is a huge joke and start a rumour about me changing sides, then I swear I’ll–’
Both men were cut short by the sound of Charlie’s phone ringing.
‘Saved by the bell,’ said Ben coldly.
He glanced across at Charlie’s mobile, squinting in order to read the caller’s id.
‘Well, fancy that. You have a call from this Kev person! Are you sure it’s not you, Charlie, who’s changed sides?’
Eighteen
Charlie snatched up his phone. Before he could even say anything, Kev’s squawking battered his eardrum.
‘Don’t you dare hang up,’ she yelled.
‘I’m at work,’ Charlie hissed.
He was aware that Ben’s ears were almost visibly wiggling in order to hear what Charlie was saying. It was also clear that any attempt to placate Kev was going to fall on stony ground. He had no choice but to let her run with her rant until she’d finished.
Charlie leant back in his chair and listened to Kev expressing both disbelief and anger over his text. Within seconds he had a pounding headache and had to hold the phone away, although he was still able to catch the odd expletive.
‘…uck’s sake… don’t know what the hell you’re playing at… thought you cared… who do you think you are… just using me… no idea who B is… demand you talk to me face to face…’
He put the phone back against his head just in time to hear Kev deliver her ultimatum.
‘…tempted to tell Willow precisely what sort of man her boyfriend really is.’
It was going to take some exceptional grovelling to undo the upset he’d caused.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into the phone. ‘I honestly thought you were seeing someone else.’
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ she demanded.
‘It was something I overheard,’ he said, madly improvising. ‘When I was in the Spar at the bottom of your road. A guy was chatting to his mate about a woman he was seeing. She had the same name as you,’ he finished weakly.
‘My name isn’t unique,’ she said, still annoyed, but thawing slightly.
‘I know. I guess it’s that old cliché of putting two and two together and coming up with more nonsense than one of Teresa May’s old Brexit deals.’
There was silence at the end of the line indicating Kev was digesting this. It prompted Charlie to plough on and deliver a trump card.
‘And… and I was jealous.’
‘Were you?’ she said, melting quicker than a block of butter in a microwave.
‘I was.’
He crossed his fingers.
‘Jealousy is a whole new experience for me.’
‘I’m not sure I believe you.’
Charlie slumped over his keyboard. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.
‘Let me prove it to you,’ he whispered.
‘This evening. I’ll pop round after work. We’ll have a quick–’
‘No, not quick,’ she said, cutting across him.
‘I was going to say a quick bite to eat.’
He contrived to sound wounded.
‘You mean… as in going to a restaurant?’ she asked in delight.
‘Um, well, I was thinking more along the lines of me bringing something in.’
‘Oh.’ Her voice went flat. ‘I guess we mustn’t let the good people of Mosley see you and I holding hands across a candlelit table in a public place. Village gossip would never do, eh?’
‘I think we could both do without village gossip muddying the waters. After all, look how easy it was for me to get the wrong end of the stick,’ he pointed out. ‘I want to see you but–’
‘But what?’ she said sharply.
Charlie took a deep breath. There were no two ways about this. It was one thing to flatter Kev and make out he’d felt jealous. But the crux of this matter was that this relationship was going nowhere. Could go nowhere. Nor did he want it to. The only thing he wanted was to end it.
‘We do need to talk,’ he said frankly.
‘I can’t see you at home. Not tonight. We’d be interrupted, and then you’d have some serious explaining to do.’
Charlie began to drum his fingers in irritation. Fine. He was left with no other choice.
‘Tell you what. I’ll book us a room somewhere. For tonight. Do you know The Beagle and Bugle?’
‘Oh my goodness.’ Kev gave a shriek of delight. ‘Is it that dear little pub restaurant on the High Street in Seal?’
She’d been there once with some girlfriends a couple of years ago. The inside had been full of knotty-beamed charm, golden floorboards, and cosy sit-soft areas dotted around a vast open fire. The menu had been sublime too.
‘That’s the one,’ said Charlie.
Seal wasn’t a million miles away, but it was far enough not to bump into anyone from Mosley.
‘I didn’t know you could book a room there.’
‘One of its best kept secrets,’ said Charlie.
Bugger. The effort involved in gently dumping Kev was going to cost him dear. But it had to be done.
‘I’ll get on to them now and sort out the booking. You pack an overnight bag. I’ll see you there later.’
‘If I arrive before you, what name shall I say you’ve booked under?’
‘Mr and Mrs Kev,’ said Charlie, without thinking.
‘How romantic,’ she purred.
Charlie slapped his forehead. Why had he said “Mr and Mrs” Kev? Or “Mr and Mrs” anything? The last thing he wanted was to give Kev the wrong idea, especially after lying and telling her he’d felt jealous about her supposedly having another man.
‘I’ll have to pop home first and grab my own overnight stuff,’ he said. ‘If you do get there before me, grab yourself a gin and tonic and stay toasty by the fire.’
‘Gin and tonic?’ she mocked. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll be sipping champagne. The bottle will be keeping cool in an ice-bucket until you join me.’
‘Sounds great.’
He forced a note of pleasure into his voice, although he felt sick to his stomach. However, the rendezvous with Kev was essential. It was all about ending the relationship on a high note for her, limiting hurt or anger. He liked to think it would guarantee Kev looking back on their time together fondly, knowing it had been nothing more than a bit of fun.
‘Oooh, I can’t wait,’ she said, giggling like a teenager. ‘See you later, Charlie Bear.’
Charlie hung up and wiped his brow.
‘I think I got the gist of that,’ said Ben.
‘Don’t. Say. One. Word,’ Charlie growled.
He viciously rubbed the heels of his hands over his face.
‘Sorry, but I’m going to say several,’ said Ben. ‘You’ve clearly got yourself into a monumental mess, and’ – he put up one hand like a traffic cop – ‘I do not want to know the details.’
‘Can you cover for me tonight at home?’ Charlie implored.
‘Cover for you?’
Ben raised his eyebrows so high, for a moment they disappeared in his hairline.
‘Mate, do you know something? I love you like a brother, but by God I’m starting to dislike you too. You haven’t even told that wonderful girl of yours I’m moving in this evening, and now you’re not even going to be around? When the residents of Mosley discover you’re not home and another guy is staying with Willow, curtains will be twitching faster than Miley Cyrus on a twerking spree.’
‘Don’t go on at me,’ Charlie implored. ‘I’ve got myself in a bit of bother. I promise that after tonight it will be sorted.’
‘I hope so, for your sake,’ said Ben, turning back to his computer.
Charlie took another deep breath. At this rate he’d be hyperventilating.
Colleagues were now trickling into the office. From the wary looks on their faces, Drummond was around. Damn. But it couldn’t be helped. Charlie needed to make a reservation at The Beagle and Bugle. Then he needed to phone Willow. The first was easy. He could do that online. The second would be a little trickier.
Nineteen
Willow was having a busy morning cataloguing. She didn’t particularly mind gathering metadata, but it would have been nice to have had some help. However, Theresa and Fiona were assisting elsewhere, and Jean was doing what she liked doing best… presiding over the front desk.
Willow discreetly checked Jean out. Currently she looked like Queen Elizabeth ensconced in the Throne Room at Windsor Castle. Jean hadn’t quite mastered Her Majesty’s accent, but she always gave it her best shot. She was doing it now. Answering the phone in an overly elocuted voice.
‘Hellair. Mosley Li-brair. Can I help yew?’
From her seat a few feet away, Willow observed her boss and tried not to giggle as Jean’s bosom swelled with self-importance. But seconds later Willow knew something was wrong because her boss’s complexion had changed from pearly-pink to plum-puce. One could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. Clearly the caller wasn’t a member of the public enquiring if JK Rowling had a new book out.
‘I thought I told yer last time, Charlie,’ – Jean’s posh accent had done a bunk – ‘that personal calls in my library aren’t allowed.’
Willow felt her stomach contract with fear from the rebuke that would no doubt follow. At the same time her heart leapt with joy. Charlie had defied Jean in order to speak to her. How amazing! She pretended not to notice Jean staring at her. Out of her peripheral vision Willow caught a glimpse of her superior’s expression. She looked like a walrus who’d anticipated a fish supper but been given tofu. Willow let some hair fall across her cheek to hide her discomfort.
‘Young lady,’ said Jean sternly.
Willow looked up, feigning surprise.
‘That chap of yours is on the phone. Again. He says it’s imperative he speaks to you. I’m telling you now, after this, no more personal calls. And you can tell Charlie from me that if he disobeys, it will end in a verbal warning for you. Understood?’
‘Sorry,’ said Willow looking contrite. ‘It must be an emergency.’
‘Emergencies go to 999. Not Mosley Library,’ Jean sniffed.
Willow pushed back her chair and scuttled over to the telephone. God forbid that Jean should transfer the call to Willow’s desk. Oh no. Instead Jean would want to eavesdrop on Willow’s conversation to determine what crisis was interfering with her staff’s duties whilst talking to a man too handsome for his own good.
‘Hello?’ said Willow.
She watched as Jean flumped back down on her chair, pretending to fiddle with some papers.
‘Hey,’ said Charlie.
‘Is everything all right?’ Willow asked, managing to convey just the right amount of worry.
Jean made a harrumphing sound.
‘I just called…’ said Charlie, before trailing off.
‘Yes?’ she prompted.
Jean picked up all her papers, shuffled them furiously and then slapped them back down again.
‘I just want to…’
‘What?’ she whispered, still in la-la land.
Was Charlie going to add “kiss you”? Like that song by Soulja Boy about kissing through the phone? It was one of her favourite tunes, even though she knew Charlie couldn’t stand it.
So he’s hardly likely to serenade you down the wires with lyrics he loathes, right? said the little voice in her head.
Willow pinged back to the present, trying and failing not to notice Jean scowling.
‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ said Charlie ominously.
Willow’s blood ran cold. Something must have flickered in her expression because, for a fleeting moment, Jean looked concerned.
‘Two things,’ Charlie continued. ‘Firstly, I have to go away on unexpected business. A major client is being difficult and we’re in danger of losing the account. Drummond wants me to placate him. I’ll be home later to pack an overnight bag.’
‘Oh,’ said Willow, swallowing disappointment.
What with the imminent Birmingham convention and now this, Charlie’s work seemed to be contriving to keep them apart.
‘Also, Ben and Anna have busted up.’
‘No way! That’s awful.’
‘Even worse. Ben is now homeless. Anna is being a right bitch and has chucked Ben out,’ said Charlie, bending the truth.
‘Anna shouldn’t have done that. After all, Ben owns half the house. He should stand his ground.’
‘He doesn’t want the aggro. I’ve said he can move in with us.’
Willow closed her eyes, forcing herself to count to ten.
‘Charlie, I don’t think–’
‘Too late. He looked so pathetic… so desperate… I’m afraid I just couldn’t turn him down.’
Willow's Wedding Vows: a laugh out loud romantic comedy with a twist! Page 8