A Proper Charlie

by Louise Wise

  THIRTY TWO

  Melvin was giving Charlie his concerned look, which Charlie had come to name as ‘the look’. She had spent part of the weekend typing more of her book; her main character was a young girl who had left home at the age of sixteen due to family breakdown. Frightened, she hooked up with the first guy who smiled at her.

  That’s as far as she had got. Charlie knew the man was going to be the baddie, and the heroine was going to spend the chapters breaking away from him and getting her life back into order. Her character’s name was Sally.

  Saturday and Sunday evening she had gone looking for Jan but the teen wasn’t to be found and Charlie was worried that the police were withholding information for fear of causing a major panic and that the Gentleman Abductor had struck again with Jan.

  ‘OK, doll?’

  ‘I’m feeling great, as it happens,’ she lied, and forced herself to smile. Over the weekend her honey-trap idea had grown and taken shape, and instead of sounding foolish, as most of her ideas turned out, this seemed the perfect solution.

  Melvin’s schoolteacher expression deepened. ‘Doll, there’s some –’ he began, but Sarah came over with a huge mound of proofs.

  ‘Hey, guess what!’ she said. ‘Mr M. has offered a reward for information on the abductor. So, I guess that definitely puts him out of the picture.’

  ‘I don’t agree with that,’ Faye said turning from her desk. ‘The police will be flooded with all sorts of wacky ideas now…’ she put on a silly voice: ‘‘the man down my street speaks with an upper class accent, arrest him!” It’s a crazy move to make.’

  ‘Hmm, somebody’s got over their crush on Sir,’ Melvin said, as he made room on his desk for the paperwork in Sarah’s arms.

  ‘Oh, puleese!’ She shuddered. ‘Geeks have more street-cred.’

  As Charlie sipped her coffee, Melvin leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘As I was about to say, doll, and I’m afraid it’s not good. The stationery order you submitted last week is in, and it’s…’ he pulled a face, ‘large. So, drink that coffee – you’re going to need it after all – and go and sort it out before Fanny gets a whiff of it.’

  ‘Oh, no!’

  Melvin pulled a face of sympathy. ‘Sorry to put this on you first thing, but…’ he allowed his sentence to trail off.

  ‘Tell me as gently as you can,’ she said. ‘How large?’

  Melvin cleared his throat, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Faye cut him off,

  ‘Large as in huge, enormous, colossal, gigantic –’ Faye swivelled round on her chair. Despite their lowered tones, she had heard. ‘Tell me, do you have a problem with noughts or something, and put an extra nought or ten on the end of each quantity?’

  ‘Miss Big Ears.’ Melvin turned to Faye arms akimbo, his face a mask of irritation. ‘Do you have to interrupt someone else’s conversations all the time?’

  Faye pulled a face.

  ‘Of course I don’t have a problem with noughts, or any other number come to that!’ Charlie said to Faye. To Melvin, she said, ‘Is the order in the stationery room?’

  ‘Some of it is,’ Faye sniggered. ‘The rest is in the canteen.’

  Melvin sighed, and glared at Faye, ‘Oh, don’t exaggerate!’ He looked at Charlie. ‘It isn’t that bad.’

  ‘It’s worse than bad!’ Faye smirked and turned back to her computer.

  Charlie sat at her desk, and lowered her forehead to rest on its cool surface. ‘I knew I should’ve phoned in sick,’ she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into the desk surface.

  ‘We could improvise and use the paperclips as Christmas decorations this year –’ Melvin said.

  ‘For the entire city,’ Faye couldn’t help but chip in.

  ‘But we’ll never run out of A4 paper again, although there’s not much call for bright pink embossed A5,’ Melvin continued.

  Charlie lifted her head an inch off the desk to let it drop down again and again.

  ‘Baby doll, I’m joking! It isn’t that bad.’

  ‘It’s worse,’ said Faye.

  ‘Faye,’ Melvin began hotly. ‘I seem to remember that it was you who caused Charlie to lose the order in the first place.’

  Faye stared at him in utter disgust that would have shrivelled a lesser man. ‘Tough,’ she said, and swivelled round back to her computer.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Charlie said to Melvin. ‘I’ll go now and take a look. Is Fanny in?’

  ‘Yes.’ Melvin pulled another face, and Charlie was worried that the air con might make his face stay in its contorted position. ‘And he isn’t happy.’

  ‘Is he ever?’ she wheeled back her chair and stood up.

  ‘As soon as I’ve cleared some work, I’ll come down to help you,’ he said.

  Charlie nodded, then trundled down to the second floor, and passing the printers, she made her way to the canteen. Inside were several people standing around, looking at the piles of stationery she’d ordered. When they saw her, they made as if they’d been about to buy a coffee, but she knew her incompetence had already circulated the building. So much for wanting to create a good impression!

  Where to start? There seemed to be boxes everywhere. She had been preoccupied when she was submitting the order, so she couldn’t entirely blame Faye.

  ‘What the bloody hell have you done, Charlie?’ Mr Fanton stood behind her, his hands, somewhere beneath his large middle, were on his hips. He came forward and slapped down a wad of printouts on a nearby table. ‘I’ve just being ringing up the stationers to see if there’s been some kind of mistake, but apparently not.’ He jabbed at the printouts with a finger. ‘The quantities are all in triple figures! What were you thinking?’

  Charlie felt terrible. ‘I’m so sorry Mr Fanton, I think the order must’ve gone through twice, somehow.’ She remembered how Faye had caused her computer to go blank looking for her pen and Charlie had resubmitted the order.

  ‘Twice? Look!’ he shrieked picking up the printouts of her order and thrusting them into her hands. ‘That isn’t twice! What am I supposed to do with that lot?’

  Charlie looked through the pages. It was her scroll on the bottom of the order. Oh God, she must have submitted it for the third time by mistake! ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated in a small voice, realising that people in the canteen were taking a great delight in witnessing her dressing-down. ‘I’ll sort it, Mr Fanton,’ she added.

  ‘Sort it?’ He glowered, spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth, and his jowls wobbled as he shook his head. ‘Are you going to pay for it too? Are you going to work wage free while you sort out the mess? Well, are you?’

  Charlie felt close to tears. She was deeply troubled over her personal involvement over Sally, and Charlie felt that any moment now she’d collapse in a heap of convulsing sobs. She restrained herself.

  ‘For God’s sake girl, you are a hindrance to the company.’

  Charlie bit her lip. This is it, you’re going to be fired, she thought.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said a deep voice.

  ‘Ah, Ben,’ Mr Fanton turn away from Charlie. ‘Nothing I can’t handle. There’s been a mistake in the stationery order.’ He turned as if to try and shield Ben from the stacks of boxes, not because he wanted to protect Charlie from further wrath, but because he wanted to be the one to dish it out. Ben step-sided him and looked at the piles of packages and boxes.

  Charlie had been looking at her feet feeling fully chastened. She glanced up at Ben, with her bottom lip clenched between her teeth, and expected to see shock followed by anger on his face. Instead, he pulled his lips inside his mouth as if he were trying to stop himself from laughing.

  Mr Fanton held the printouts of Charlie’s stationery order towards him. ‘Charlie can’t seem to understand the difference between single and double figures,’ he declared pompously.

  Taking them, he glanced up and his gaze met with Charlie’s. He didn’t look at all angry or annoyed, and Charlie felt stupidly grateful. She had to stop
herself from throwing her arms around his ankles and kissing his shoes.

  ‘Hmm, someone’s been a bit over enthusiastic,’ Ben said, his mouth turning up at the corners as he read through them.

  ‘As I was saying to Charlie,’ Mr Fanton began, ‘she’s a hindrance to the company. It’s been one mistake after another.’

  ‘Really?’ Ben asked. ‘What other mistakes has she made?’

  ‘Well, nothing major like this, but she just causes disruption. She chats when she should be working –’

  ‘Excellent qualities in a reporter,’ Ben said. ‘It helps to break the ice, and encourages the interviewee to talk.’

  ‘She isn’t a reporter,’ Mr Fanton pointed out. ‘After this I doubt she’ll ever get a newspaper to hire her again! Charlie, I’ll have your P45 drawn up this afternoon. Don’t worry Ben, I’ll have this mess sorted in no time.’

  Ben was taking off his jacket, and unbuttoning his cuff buttons on his shirt. He rolled up his sleeves. He winked at Charlie, who stood miserably between both men. ‘I’ll not hear of Charlie being dismissed over a slight error.’

  Charlie looked up, open mouthed.

  ‘A slight error?’ Mr Fanton gave a small humourless laugh.

  ‘That’s right,’ Ben said. ‘Arrange a dispatcher would you? Er, you’d better make that several.’

  Mr Fanton looked from Charlie and then to Ben. When his shocked gaze fell back on Charlie she controlled herself from sticking out her tongue, and instead permitted a smug smile to tease the corners of her mouth – well, if a girl can’t be smug in situations like this, when can she be?

  ‘You’re the boss,’ Mr Fanton said, as if the idea was ludicrous, and shaking his head, chins shuddering around his neck, he stomped out of the canteen.

  ‘Right, then,’ Ben said to Charlie, ‘let’s get to work.’

  ‘You’re going to help me?’

  ‘You’ll be here all day if I don’t.’

  Charlie was flustered. ‘B-but shouldn’t you be ordering one of your staff to help me instead?’

  ‘Don’t you want me to help you, or something?’

  ‘Of course not, I mean, I do. But you’re the boss,’ she hissed out the last word, and Ben’s amused face broke into laughter.

  He strode over to the canteen’s large window where the cook and her staff were all pretending to wipe down the front counter in order to hear what was going on. ‘Can you keep us going with coffee, please?’ he asked.

  Later, when Charlie was on her knees counting out the boxes of pens, and ticking them off her list, a voice behind her said, ‘How’s it going?’

  She jumped, and twisted round. Melvin stood looking over the stacks of boxes. ‘How’d Fanny take it?’

  ‘Not very good,’ Charlie stood up. Ben had left to take a telephone call. ‘He almost sacked me.’

  ‘Bastard,’ Melvin said. ‘He’s so miserable since Middleton came in and took some of his power off him.’ He circled Charlie’s shoulders with his arm and gave her a squeeze. ‘I’ve rounded up some troops to help you –’

  ‘There’s no need.’ Ben came back at that moment and caught the end of their conversation. ‘We’ve everything in order, haven’t we Charlie?’

  Charlie could feel Melvin’s astonishment. ‘Mr Middleton has been helping me,’ she said unnecessarily.

  Ben smiled at Melvin. ‘It looked worse than it was,’ he said. ‘The courier will be here soon to take a lot of this off our hands.’

  ‘Oh, right then.’ Melvin looked taken aback. ‘OK, I’ll leave you two to it. Shall I say the canteen is back in functional order?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll have most of this out of here by lunchtime.’

  THIRTY THREE

  Before noon, they had sent the majority of the order to other newspapers of The Middleton Group, and the rest would be taken to the stock room. At lunchtime, people began to stream in, hungry but expecting to see the canteen full of boxes and stationery. Ben and Charlie were sitting together at a table eating beans on toast, washed down with coffee, and gave each other secret smiles as the disappointment on the ravenous workforce faces became evident.

  ‘You should’ve let me pay for our lunch,’ she said. ‘The help you’ve given me today was a godsend.’

  This was the second time she’d fussed over paying. ‘I wouldn’t hear of it,’ he answered, his fork halfway to his mouth.

  The best dates he’d had were those spent in a restaurant, where he wasn’t expected to make conversation because they were busy eating. Of course, the theatre was even better, but –

  ‘I don’t see you as a bean man,’ she said. ‘More of a caviar type.’

  Not that they were having a date, of course. They had worked the morning together and he’d simply paid for lunch. Somehow being with Charlie made him feel more confident and calmer. Yes, calmer was the exact word. During the morning, he could feel all his negative energy slipping away. And she had been right about the kerb-crawler/gentleman abductions accusations. They had all blown over.

  ‘They don’t serve caviar here,’ he said, and she laughed as if he’d said something highly amusing. ‘But I hate caviar, anyway,’ he added.

  ‘I’ve never tried it. The thought of it sounds horrible,’ she said and visibly shuddered.

  Ben realised this was the second time he’d felt relaxed in the presence of a woman. The first being in the park with Charlie.

  ‘Did you manage to salvage your paperwork when we bumped into one another?’ she asked, her green eyes concerned. ‘It was all my fault. I’m such a clumsy idiot and I haven’t seen you to ask, er, before now, that is.’

  She’d been too embarrassed, in other words, Ben thought. He was surprised to hear those exact same words that were often said to describe him. Then, he remembered the first, er, second time, they had met, and how she had banged into his desk and scattered paperwork over the floor. ‘It was my fault, not yours. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. How’s the shoulder?’

  ‘Oh,’ she smiled at him, obviously surprised that he remembered, ‘fine. Not even a bruise.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, relieved. ‘I don’t usually go knocking my staff about.’

  ‘You didn’t. I wasn’t looking –’

  ‘Shall we both agree to disagree before we come to more blows?’ he said, and they both laughed.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been clumsy all my life, so I know you’re just being kind to me – yet again.’

  Ben was amazed. She came across as such a lively and assertive character, yet she was clearly lacking in self-confidence. He began to realise that her animated nature was a front to mask her timidity. ‘Why shouldn’t someone be kind to you?’ he asked.

  She looked flustered at the question as if it had never occurred that some would find it strange that people were sometimes unpleasant to her. She shrugged her small shoulders, and gave a light laugh. ‘Everyone’s been wonderful here. It’s a nice atmosphere.’

  ‘I didn’t like John shouting at you like that. I’ve noticed he seems to pick on you.’

  ‘Oh, Fanny’s just a grump, harmless really,’ she said. ‘Why’d you stop him from sacking me?’

  Ben wondered how she had managed to eat anything for all the talking she had been doing but, glancing at her plate, he noticed that it was almost empty.

  ‘I don’t think you deserved it. Everyone makes mistakes.’

  ‘But mine was huge.’

  ‘I sold my father’s antique car once. It was his pride and joy; a Silver Ghost Rolls Royce from the early 1900s. I was meant to sell his ordinary Rolls to a private buyer, but somehow, made a mistake and sent the man off with the Ghost. He must’ve thought he’d won the lottery.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Charlie said, looking horrified. ‘This is Sir Donald we’re talking about, isn’t it? He’s scary, or so I’ve heard.’

  Ben nodded, with a faint smile on his lips. ‘The tyrant, yep, you’ve heard of his reputation? He was furious!’ Ben cringed a
t the memory.

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Old enough to know better really, I was nineteen,’ he said, and as the sharp memory resurfaced he tried to stifle a shudder. Donald Middleton’s arctic tongue had reduced the teenage Ben to a stuttering wreck. His father had taunted and sneered at him for weeks after the mistake. ‘I can still taste his fury!’ he said at last, hoping he hadn’t revealed too much of his pain on his face.

  Whether Charlie had noticed or not, she didn’t say. She pushed her plate away and sat twirling her red hair around her little finger. ‘Well, that makes my stationery mistake rather tame,’ she said with a grin. ‘Is there anything else you should reveal to me, I wonder?’ She flushed as if realising how intimate her words sounded, then Ben found himself flushing too.

  There was a short silence until Charlie said, ‘Sorry to hear about your mother.’ She pulled a face. ‘Sorry, maybe you didn’t want to be reminded. Not that you can ever forget, of course. She died two months ago, didn’t she? I read about it in the paper. Must’ve been hard with the merger and all. But I bet she’ll be proud of you! Core’s getting glowing reviews.’ She came to a breathless halt.

  Instead of feeling a painful jolt in his heart at the mention of his mother, his lips twitched. Without thinking, he moved to cover her hand with his.

  ‘I can talk about her, and yes it was hard while Globe and Core were coming together but I think all the hard work is over now.’ Her hand felt soft and incredibly small beneath his, and he took his away reluctantly.

  Charlie picked up her fork, then put it down again. Her plate was empty, and nerves were making her want to do something with her hands. So much for him trying to reassure her!

  Ben looked down at his plate; it was only half-empty. Charlie must have been very hungry, either that or she was a fast eater! ‘Would you like dessert?’ he asked, wondering if it was the former, he should offer her more food.

  ‘Oh, no thank you.’ She glanced at her plate, and then at his, as if realising why he would ask. She flushed slightly. ‘I really need to go shopping and stock my fridge on essentials. It’s the second time I’ve left for work without breakfast,’ she ended on a light laugh, and Ben suspected that she had been starving. He frowned. As far as he was aware, Core’s pay was very generous.