by Louise Wise
‘Let that be our secret, then.’ Oh, God now he sounded like a pervert.
She cleared her throat, and said with an embarrassed giggle, ‘I overslept.’
‘Did you have a heavy weekend?’ he asked, hoping he sounded more like those in the office. But he blushed because it came out all wrong, like he was criticising her.
‘A bit,’ she said. ‘Melvin and me were celebrating last night, and well, we stayed up later than we should have.’
‘Celebrating? He has a black eye!’ he blurted, and mentally kicked himself. He held the smile in check on his face. ‘I… er… I mean, it looks like you should have been commiserating instead.’
‘Melvin had an, er, unfortunate accident. We were celebrating the departure of a, er, an unwanted visitor last night.’
She didn’t elaborate, but paid particular interest in her shoes. He urged himself to ask her out there and then, but thinking about putting it into words made him more nervous.
‘Well,’ she said as silence stretched longer than the Dartford tunnel. ‘Thanks for, er, letting me know how your sister is. I hope it works out for you.’
‘Havesexwithmetonight?’ Ben’s eyes widened in horror. Floor, he thought, open now. Please. Open up and swallow me whole.
‘Pardon?’ She was looking up at him quizzically.
Ben felt his face colour up to his hairline. ‘I mean…’ he gave an embarrassed laugh, ‘nothing. I, er, maybe I’ll see you in the canteen, you know, for a coffee? I’d like to buy you a coffee, I mean.’
‘That’d be nice,’ she said.
He nodded then walked towards the lifts, feeling her eyes on his back. He only looked around when he stepped into the lift and was forced to turn in order press the buttons. He nodded to her as the doors closed. Then grinned madly to himself.
She hadn’t said no!
‘Hi, Ben. I’ve placed some letters on your desk for signature,’ his PA said as he entered the office. He felt like he was walking on air! ‘Oh, and your lunch appointment rang and said he’ll be delayed by half an hour.’
Ben couldn’t care less.
‘Thank you, Clair,’ he said, and walked into his private office and closed the door behind him. But what had she said yes to? A coffee in the canteen sometime.
He groaned.
*
Charlie pounced on Melvin and virtually imprisoned him on his office chair as she clutched his shoulders and relayed to him what was said in the corridor.
‘I’ve a maybe date,’ she said. ‘A. Maybe. Date. How cool is that!’
Melvin’s face didn’t radiate her happiness as she’d hoped.
‘Sounds uncool to me, babes,’ he said, batting her hands away as she jabbered incoherently.
‘Mel, you don’t understand. He’s asked me out!’
‘Sounds to me like he’s offered to buy you a coffee the next time he sees you in the canteen. Hardly a date, doll.’
She grinned stupidly at him. ‘This is it, you know, Melly. He’s the one.’
Melvin groaned. ‘Babes,’ he said rising and placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘I do not want to encourage this crush you have with Middleton. He’s drop-dead gorge, of course, but he’s out of our league, baby doll. He’ll only want to bounce his tennis balls in your lady garden, and then he’ll be off!’
‘Mel!’
‘It’s the truth. If he loves you so much, where is he? Why hasn’t he showed his face in here and been seen with you?’
‘He doesn’t mind being seen with me. We spent an entire morning together in the canteen, remember!’
‘Big deal. Charlie, men like him won’t want to be associated with women like you.’ He closed his eyes on his words, and closed the distance between them and hugged her. ‘Sorry, doll, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. But we’re a different class. To men like him we’re nothing but plebs. You’re setting yourself up for heartache.’
‘You really think that, don’t you?’
‘I do.’
‘Then I’ll prove you wrong!’ She pushed out of his arms and flounced over to sit at her desk.
‘I don’t want us to fall out over him,’ Melvin said, looking upset. ‘Charlie, I just want what’s best for you.’
‘Melvin, you’re my friend not my father. I haven’t a father, or a mother, for that matter.’
Melvin looked so dejected, that Charlie felt sorry for him.
‘I know you mean well, however,’ she muttered.
Melvin looked relieved. ‘So,’ he said, with forced buoyancy, ‘where’s that novel you promised me?’
‘Eh?’
He waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Your prozzie story?’
‘Oh.’ She pointed to her handbag on the floor. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’
Melvin snatched it up and searched through it until he produced a memory stick. ‘This it? I’ve been dying to read this.’ Without glancing at her, he sat at his desk, slotted it into his computer.
‘I’m six chapters in,’ she said, as he began reading. ‘Let me know if you think it’s worth going on with.’
Melvin nodded absently.
Charlie sighed and sat back thinking over Melvin’s words. He hadn’t meant to hurt; he genuinely cared about her and was terrified of disappointment. She remembered his motto: Don’t hope, and you won’t be disappointed.
He was right: Ben Middleton was way out of her league. What had she been thinking?
FORTY FIVE
Ben entered his house through the kitchen. He was still worrying about his and Charlie’s conversation this morning. He had been that close to asking her out. That close! He wondered about her ‘heavy night’ with the rewrite editor, and felt a flash of jealousy. He wondered about their relationship – they seemed pretty close, but everyone knew Giles was gay. He sighed. Clubbing and having fun with gay friends was what she was all about. She was a modern young woman. All he would do was stifle or bore her.
He saw Camilla sitting at the immaculate kitchen table reading London Core.
He quipped, ‘Don’t let Father catch you reading such drivel, Cam.’
Camilla looked up. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘This is now a respectable newspaper. You’ve done wonders, Ben.’ She stood and crossed towards the bubbling percolator. ‘Want one?’
‘Yes please.’ He placed his laptop and briefcase on the floor. He took off his jacket and hung it over the chair before sitting down. ‘Is Father in?’
‘He’s finally taken orders and is tucked up as I speak. Iris practically marched him up the stairs after he criticised again last night’s dinner. Honestly, cooking isn’t part of her duties and she only cooks because she wants to. It’d serve him right if she refused to cook ever again.’
‘She’s been a godsend since mum got ill,’ Ben said. He sat down wearily. ‘I’m shattered. It’s been a hard slog trying to get motivation going in the office, but I think they are starting to take an interest in the paper again.’
She sat at the table after placing two coffees down. ‘I think I’d like to be part of it now,’ she said.
‘But university –’
‘I’ve had it with education. I’m almost twenty –’
‘Are you?’ he asked, surprised. ‘You must’ve had those birthdays without me.’
‘I grew up, Ben. And I want to see the world, earn my own money and become part of this family.’ She lowered her head, and sipped her coffee.
‘You’re already part of this family –’
‘I shall feel even more excluded if I’m made to go back to uni,’ she interrupted him. ‘I know I’ve acted like a spoilt Prima Dona in the past, but these last few weeks have really forced me to grow up. Sally,’ she paused to swallow, ‘was such a nice person. She was friendly but mistrusted everyone. She lived a life totally different to my own.’
Ben couldn’t remember Sally being friendly or nice, and wondered if Camilla had forgotten she’d stolen her money and phone. But he didn’t say anything, and allowed her to talk.
>
‘Her disappearance has taught me to stop treating life like I have this Goddamned right to an easy existence. I’ve treated Father like a money machine; I hated the way he treated mum, but at least I now know why. God, Ben, why’d they let themselves drift apart and not talk?’
‘There aren’t any instructions with relationships, Cammy. They’ve made mistakes, and I think Father knows that more than anyone. Has he spoken to you yet?’
‘Polite chit-chat. It’s awkward, you know? What about you?’
‘Me?’
‘You need to speak to him about the way he runs your life. I was half expecting to find you had married Miss Piggy when I got back.’
Ben smiled. ‘Nicole and me are no more.’
Camilla looked at him with wide eyes. ‘Has dad set you up with someone else?’
‘No,’ he said and smiled. ‘I finished with her and I’ve met someone.’
‘Go on,’ she said, curling her hands around her mug of coffee.
Ben knew he was blushing but he couldn’t help it. You’d have thought, at his age, blushing would be outgrown. ‘Her name is Charlie Wallis, and she’s a clerk for Core.’
‘Don’t stop,’ Camilla said, grinning. ‘Spill.’
‘There’s nothing to spill,’ Ben said, feeling the blush heating his neck. He pulled at his collar and loosened his tie. ‘She’s just a very nice lady who works in the same building as I do.’ As much as Ben liked Charlie and respected her, he felt it better to keep her private for now. It wasn’t anything to do with being ashamed of her; more that he wanted to protect her from Donald’s piercing stares and caustic tongue.
‘Whooping it up with staff? Tut, tut,’ Camilla said. She reached across the table and patted Ben’s hand. ‘I’m joking. I’m glad for you, really I am. It’s about time you found your own girlfriends.’
‘She isn’t the type Father would normally line up for me.’
‘Oh?’
‘She’s an ordinary person; no airs and graces.’ He almost laughed as he imagined introducing Charlie to his father, and his father asking Charlie what she did for a living, and Charlie replying: ‘A prostitute, Sir.’ He sobered. He wasn’t being fair. How could he believe a stoned stranger on the telephone over Charlie? Because he couldn’t believe love and passion could happen to someone like him, he answered himself. It was self-preservation to guard against hurt.
‘Ben!’
‘Eh?’
‘You were miles away. I was saying, an ordinary woman would probably be better for you than someone like Miss Piggy –’
‘Nicole.’
Camilla pushed her nose up with her finger. ‘What, with a nose like that?’
Ben laughed. ‘I like Charlie. She’s funny, she makes me see the world in colour.’
‘Blimey, you are smitten!’
He smiled. ‘But, Cam, I’m not part of her world, am I? She’s modern. She even talks differently! I’m so-called upper class and she’s –’
Camilla was frowning. ‘You sound like a snob, Ben Middleton! My God, if I can make friends out of prostitutes and live rough on the street for a couple of days then –’
Ben chuckled, and then laughed.
‘What’s funny?’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve no idea, sweetheart, no idea at all.’
‘Then tell me.’
He chewed on his bottom lip. ‘All right, but I can tell you that you’re wrong about me. I feel she’s too good for me. I would just hold her back; stifle her.’
‘Oh, rubbish! How do you know that anyway unless you give it a go? You will, won’t you?’ She looked at him worriedly. ‘She sounds lovely.’
Ben laughed. ‘You don’t know her!’
‘But you’ve never spoken about a woman like this before. She must be lovely.’
‘I think so.’ His smile dimmed. ‘Maybe if I started at the beginning? And it all started when I began searching for you.’
‘Tell me, and don’t leave anything out.’
Ben told Camilla everything, from meeting Charlie at the disastrous ‘pop stars’ party where she mistook him for Frank Sinatra to discovering she was interviewing prostitutes for an article she was writing for Core. He skipped the part where they almost made love, and instead told her about Charlie holding him at knifepoint believing he was the abductor. Finally, he told her about the phone call to her house Sunday evening and of the strange man answering and practically telling him that Charlie was a prostitute. She was so engrossed her coffee went cold.
‘Well, you could just have got the wrong end of the stick there,’ she said, when he came to the end. ‘He could have meant anything. For goodness sake, don’t ruin it over some stupid drunk’s comment!’
He smiled weakly as he realised she was voicing his thoughts.
‘Flipping heck, Ben.’ She chuckled. ‘You have had yourself an adventure, haven’t you! Maybe I should run away again.’
‘No, you bloody won’t. It was a nightmare most of the time.’ He told her about the encounter with Sally Readman.
Her eyes were all round when he had finished. ‘That man in her flat was her pimp stroke boyfriend. You’re lucky he didn’t catch you. He tried to get me into the trade.’
Ben stared at her in horror.
‘Another reason why I left.’
‘I suppose we both had our adventures, eh?’
Camilla reached across the table and grabbed his hand. ‘It’s nice that we can talk.’
Ben squeezed her hand. ‘I know, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when, er, you know.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I reacted like a spoilt brat. But I’m glad it’s all ended well. You arrange a date for Charlie straight away, Ben, you hear? She sounds perfect for you.’
‘Where would I take her though? I’m sure she only goes to nightclubs or all night raves, or something.’
‘Stop talking yourself out of it,’ Camilla said, frowning. ‘Leave it with me, and I’ll have a think.’
‘Have a think about what?’ Donald barked as he entered the warm kitchen.
Both Ben and Camilla jumped.
‘About where I shall take Charlie on our first date,’ Ben said smoothly, refusing to feel the flush staining his cheeks. ‘I was just telling Cam about her. She’s an up and coming journalist,’ he added, exaggerating slightly – or rather hugely.
‘Ah yes, Charlie or somebody or other,’ Donald frowned.
Ben was surprised and delighted that Donald remembered, but then the old man continued, ‘Did I tell you that I had an old cob called Charlie? It went mad and I had it shot.’
Ben winced, as Camilla clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘I know. You’ve told me.’
‘So, when do we get to meet this delightful woman?’ he asked as he came further into the kitchen. He bypassed the table they were sitting at, and as he did so, he patted Camilla on the shoulder, his old fingers lingering slightly.
Both Ben and Camilla exchanged shocked glances. Then Donald passed by towards the fridge. He opened the large door and peered inside.
‘Are you hungry?’ Camilla asked. She jumped up. ‘Sit down, Father, and let me make you something.’
Ben almost coughed up the last of the dregs from his coffee in surprise at Camilla’s eagerness to help her father. He rose, and decided he’d leave them alone together. They both had issues that needed to be resolved and it looked as if they were both willing this time.
‘Cammy,’ Donald said as Ben went to leave the kitchen, ‘I need to tell you a few things. I’m not hungry, not really. Please, shut the fridge and come and sit down.’
Ben opened the door and on closing it gently, heard,
‘First though, give your stupid dad a hug, eh?’
Smiling, he stood outside the kitchen for a moment listening to Camilla’s soft tears as they undoubtedly embraced.
‘About bloody time,’ Ben said and left them to their years’ worth of making up.
FORTY SIX
Talking
to Camilla yesterday had filled Ben with confidence. He had finally decided to ask Charlie out properly whether Camilla came up with anywhere to take her or not. But she had come up trumps. She thought of the theatre and dinner, and to force his hand had bought two tickets for the West End musical Chicago and booked dinner for afterwards at Floridita.
They’d enjoy the theatre, and afterwards they’d talk over dinner and he would find out how Charlie felt about becoming his… his what? Girlfriend? He felt a thrill at the word. He sat in his office chair, stared at the telephone, and willed himself to use it. His hand hovered over it several times, and several times it dropped away again. His confidence, like sand in an hourglass, was slipping away.
What if she refused? What if she laughed at the thought of going to the theatre with him? Come on Ben, he said to himself. Pick up the phone. Pick. Up. The. Bloody. Phone.
It rang, and Ben almost fell off his chair in fright.
‘Camilla, for you Ben,’ said Clair.
‘Thanks, put her through. Cam?’
‘Have you asked her?’ his sister said immediately.
‘Asked who what?’
‘Don’t be dim. You know who.’
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. Camilla was probably the only person who could see through his ‘British stiff-upper lip’ exterior. Inside he was quaking. ‘I was just about to, but then you rang.’
‘Ben,’ she admonished. ‘It’s nearly lunchtime –’
‘Eleven o’clock actually.’
‘Whatever. My point is you said you would ask her first thing. I know what you’re like, Ben, you’ll put it off and work yourself into a state and then not get round to asking her.’
‘Let me off the phone and I’ll ring her.’
‘I’m off,’ she said, and the line died.
Ben replaced the receiver, wishing he had kept her talking. The more she chatted the less chance he had of messing up asking Charlie to the theatre, he figured. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, before lowering them and putting them on his hips for side bends. Lumbering up, he thought. Lumbering up for the big race.
He touched his toes.
