“Hello?” I said as I rounded the counter and into the kitchen area.
“Charlotte?” an older man asked. I nodded.
“Thank God, girl. We’re sinking here.” He pointed to a counter, which was piled high with dirty dishes.
“I’m on it,” I said, with a smile. I didn’t care what work I was given, I’d do anything.
I filled a sink and started to wash the plates. I was sure they had a dishwasher but for speed, I wanted to clear as many as were needed for the lunchtime rush. I washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked. My hands were sore from the hot water but I found myself humming along to the tunes played on the radio.
“Phew, that was a rush,” Rose said, when she entered the kitchen.
“I think I have enough clean for now, shall I put the rest in the dishwasher?” I asked.
She nodded and pulled open the door of a large stainless steel appliance. I stacked and watched as she set it.
“What would you like me to do now?”
“There are some tables to clean,” Rose said.
I grabbed a cloth and a bottle of disinfectant spray. I smiled and greeted customers who came or left. I scrubbed tables, some chairs, and mopped the floor to clean up spilled food. My shoulders and back ached, but I was enjoying myself. I was legitimately earning money that I could keep for myself; I didn’t have to prostitute myself for a portion of it.
“Charlotte, you can stop now. I don’t think the diner has ever been so clean,” Rose said.
I stood and stretched my back; strands of hair had stuck to the beads of sweat on my forehead. I blew at them. Rose handed me a cup of coffee and I slid into a booth. She joined me.
“Well, you’ve definitely got the job,” she said, looking around. But then she sighed. “I love this place, but it’s too much for me now, to be honest. I’d appreciate your help. Shame you’re only passing through.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be around. I don’t have plans, Rose, I’m just trying to find someplace I fit in.” That was the first truth I’d told her.
Two days later I was waiting tables when my fears came to life.
“Refill?” I asked two guys sitting at a table.
I held the coffee pot above one mug. I wasn’t sure what it was that had me look at the TV in the corner, but an image of Philip filled the screen. The sound was low but scrolling across the bottom of the screen were words that had my blood run cold.
Ex-mayor, Philip Stanton, was found murdered in his home yesterday morning. Sources have confirmed evidence, and we believe it to be a woman’s shoe, was found in the ex-mayor’s bedroom. So far there have been no arrests but our source tells us the police are following substantial leads.
“Hey!”
I turned from the TV to see the mug overflowing and a river of hot coffee spilling into the guy’s lap. He’d jumped from his seat, pulling his pants away from his crotch. Rose ran over, holding a wad of tissues in her hand. I was frozen to the spot.
“Ex-mayor?” I whispered.
“Charlotte?” Rose’s word cut through the fog in my head.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I said, placing the coffee pot on the table and taking the towels from her. I mopped at the coffee as best I could.
“Go get a cloth,” she replied.
I rushed behind the counter, but all I could think of was that Philip was an ex-mayor, and the police were following leads. I was glad he’d been found but terrified at the same time. I grabbed a cloth and by the time I’d returned to the table, it was cleaned and empty.
“They’ve left, I guess the poor guy had to go cool off his balls,” Rose said.
I tried hard to swallow down the panic and blink away the tears. “I’m so sorry, I got distracted.”
“I noticed.”
“It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll pay for the spilled coffee.” Even I noticed the level of desperation in my voice. I needed the job.
“There’s no need for that. You’ve got an hour left of your shift, maybe go help Kieran since we’ve quieted down out here.”
I walked to the kitchen and quietly began to stack dishes in the washer and wash down countertops.
“Knew him, did you?” Kieran asked.
I wasn’t sure what to say, or whether he was referring to the guy I’d poured the coffee over or Philip.
“Your face went white when you saw that TV report,” he added.
“My grandmother knew him. I was a little shocked, that’s all.”
Shit! I shouldn’t have said that, I thought. I might have to come up with a story in case I’m asked to expand on what I’d said.
I spent the rest of my shift in the kitchen, and then headed to the restroom to wash up before joining Rose at the cash register. She handed me my day’s tips, a little less than the previous. I imagined the guy with scalded balls hadn’t left a tip.
“I’m sorry about earlier. My grandmother knew him, I was a little shocked,” I said, having to keep my story straight in case Kieran said anything.
“I’m sorry to hear that, did she know him well?”
“I’m not sure to be honest, I only met him a couple of times.”
I crossed my fingers, hoping she wouldn’t ask much more. “Shall I see you tomorrow?” I asked.
Rose smiled and nodded. Hopefully the matter was dealt with.
The first thing I did, when I left the diner, was to head to the convenience store and buy a newspaper. Philip’s murder was front page news. I scanned the the article looking for any references to a suspect and my missing shoe. The more I read about Philip, the faster my heart beat. His son, the one who hadn’t bothered with him for years, had made a statement stating how heartbroken the family was, how they were determined to do whatever was necessary to bring their father’s murderer to court. My hands began to shake as I continued to read.
I folded the newspaper and placed it in a trashcan. I knew nothing about forensics but was pretty sure the police were, somehow, going to discover I was the owner of the shoe.
I should have stayed. I should have called the police immediately. There were a lot of things I ‘should’ have done, but was it too late? If I went to the police would I be a suspect because I’d run? So many questions ran through my mind, muddling my thoughts to the point I just couldn’t think anymore.
I found some scissors in a kitchen drawer and took them to the bathroom with me. As I stood in front of the mirror, I held my hair to one side and chopped. It wasn’t the neatest cut, but then I wasn’t thinking straight. I opened the hair dye and read the instructions. It all seemed easy enough. Within an hour I’d gone from having long, blonde hair to short, choppy brown. The style aged me, which I guessed, was a benefit. I cleaned the bathroom, being sure to bag up all the excess hair and took it out to the trash.
“Charlotte!” I heard, when I walked back into the kitchen.
“What do you think? New me,” I said, startled by Cecelia.
“I could have cut it, if you’d asked. But it does make you look a little more mature,” she said.
The smile I gave was forced. “I thought it might be easier for working at the diner. I’m forever having to retie my hair, and I’d hate for a customer to find some in their meal.”
“Makes you look like you want to disguise yourself,” I heard from the back door.
“Beau, that’s not a nice comment,” Cecelia said.
Beau strode through the kitchen and poured himself a coffee, he didn’t offer anyone else one. I wondered, again, what had happened to make him so arrogant. Was he as rude to all the guests, or just me?
“Maybe I do, maybe I want to shed the old me and start afresh,” I said, raising my chin in challenge.
He didn’t reply, but stared at me over the rim of his mug while he took sips.
“I have to head to the store,” Cecelia said, gathering up her purse.
I made my way to my bedroom to collect some money, not wanting to share the same space as Beau. I was desperate to watch the news,
but all I was doing was renting a bedroom. I hadn’t been shown the living room. I decided I’d find a coffee shop, or perhaps see if the town had a library and I could reread the newspapers.
I found the town library easily enough, it was the largest and most impressive looking building in a courtyard tucked behind the main street. I found a small table with unoccupied chairs in a corner, near the children’s section, and opened one of the three newspapers I’d taken from the stand by the librarian. I read. The article was a repeat of what I already knew. I picked up a second newspaper. I scanned through until I saw a bunch of words that had me hold my breath.
It is believed police have a man, name not released, helping with their investigation.
A man? Who? Helping with their investigation. Didn’t that generally mean they had arrested someone? I wasn’t sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or up my anxiety levels. The press had already mentioned a shoe, a woman’s shoe. The police would still want to know who it belonged to, wouldn’t they? I wished I had someone I trusted to ask the many questions that ran through my mind. I had been witness to many crimes in my trailer park. It was a nightly occurrence for the police to arrive, lights, and sometimes guns, blazing, and then take someone away. I’d never really known what happened after, though. Sometimes those people would come back and regale Damien, while I overheard, with horror stories of their time in the cells. Sometimes I never saw them again.
I looked up, my eyes stung from staring at the small text for so long. I watched a group of girls, probably about my age, laugh and quietly chat as they sat at a long table with piles of books in the middle. I guessed they were there to research their homework questions and I envied them. One glanced over and then quickly looked away before I could offer a smile. I watched as she bent her head low to her friend and whispered. The other tried to glance my way before her friend grabbed her arm.
Being laughed at by my peers wasn’t new. I guessed it was the only thing I didn’t miss about the small school Damien had yanked me from, when he’d decided the only education I needed was how to please a man. A thought occurred. Maybe I could take myself back to school. I’d loved to learn, I wasn’t dumb, often top of my class, which added to the ridicule I’d received. First, I needed to deal with the Philip situation.
It was getting late when I headed back to the house. As I walked, I wondered if I’d ever be able to call somewhere home. I was hoping that, in time, I’d be able to work enough shifts to afford my own place. That might have been a ‘pie in the sky’ dream, but dreams were all I had.
I stopped by a store to pick up something to eat and kill a little more time. I browsed a used bookshelf. Reading had been a guilty pleasure of mine. I’d hidden books in the trailer for fear of Damien discarding, or selling, them if he could. Again, it was always about controlling my level of learning to what he thought I ought to know. I picked up a romance with a cracked spine and dog-eared pages. I loved books that looked read, that looked like someone had really enjoyed the words on the pages. Somehow it connected me with the previous owner. We had something in common, despite never having met. I bought the book because it had been so ‘loved’ rather than for the content. It was also to give me something to take my mind off my situation in the hours I spent alone in the bedroom.
Beau was standing on the sun deck with a can of paint and cleaning off a brush. One side of the railing looked fresh. I hesitated on the path but took a deep breath and walked to the front door. As I passed him he grabbed the book from my hand.
“Romance,” he said with disdain.
“I don’t know, I haven’t read the back. I liked the cover.”
“You know this crap isn’t even close to real, Charlotte. There are no happy endings in life.”
I stared at him. “I read to escape my crap, Beau. And as for happy endings…what did she do to you, to make you such a cynic?”
Silence ensued, a flash of anger crossed his face, and his usually light hazel eyes darkened. He slammed the book into my chest, causing me to stumble back a couple of steps. I’d spoken so far out of line I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it back. I wanted to apologize, I opened my mouth to, but he held up his hand to silence me. He then turned and walked down the path to his truck. His wheels spun on the road as he roared away.
“Was that Beau?” I heard, Cecelia stood at the front door.
“Yes, I think he was late for something.”
I saw her brow furrow, in worry I assumed. I should have kept my mouth shut. Damien would often tell me I had a smart mouth, I was way too articulate—not that he’d used that word—for my age. It upset me to know I might have caused her to worry. I’d apologize, whether he wanted to listen or not, in the morning.
I took my book and the snacks I’d bought to my bedroom. I curled up, draped the quilt around me and opened the book. I soon fell into a world I could only dream about.
I heard the front door slam shut, I’d been so absorbed in the book I hadn’t realized the time. The small clock on the wall showed it past midnight. For those few hours, I’d managed to immerse myself in a world of fantasy, of a hero and selfless love. I sighed. One day I’d have that. I changed out of my clothes and climbed into bed.
Thoughts of Philip, lost shoes, and a broken Beau, merged, giving me a restless sleep. I woke in the early hours. My head was pounding and my throat dry from thirst. I climbed from the bed and pulled on a t-shirt. I needed a glass of water but hesitated by the bedroom door. I listened for any sounds of life before gently opening it and creeping downstairs. Feeling my way along the wall, I reached the kitchen. By then, my eyes had adjusted to the dark. I stood at the sink and let the water run for a little while until it was ice-cold. I held a glass under it.
“What are you doing?” I heard. Beau’s voice startled me and I dropped the glass into the sink.
“Shit, you scared me,” I said, picking it up and inspecting for any cracks.
“Jumpy, huh?”
Maybe it was the headache, or the embarrassment that I was standing in just a t-shirt and panties, but his comment made me pissed.
“It’s the middle of the fucking night and you scared me, nothing more,” I snapped.
I refilled the glass and turned off the water. Beau was standing in the doorway, but I wasn’t going to let his arrogant ass stop me from going back to bed. I walked tall toward him. I saw his eyes scan me from my ankles up to my breasts.
“Excuse me,” I said, as I got close.
He stepped very slightly to one side, causing me to squeeze past him, as I did, the smell of alcohol hit me. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he said.
“I think it’s the other way round, not that I really care.”
With that, I climbed the stairs and went back to bed. His laughter followed me. As much as I liked being at Cecelia’s, and it was within my budget, I made a decision to find somewhere else to stay. For whatever reason, Beau didn’t like or trust me. I understood, he was astute enough to know a woman walking in the rain wasn’t out for a casual stroll. I just didn’t need his probing comments, or his fucking rudeness.
I woke later than I would have liked to. I rushed around the bedroom, dressing in the previous day’s clothes and ran down the stairs.
“Good morning. Sorry, I’m late for work,” I said, as I passed Cecelia in the hallway.
I didn’t wait for her answer but ran through the open front door and up the road. I arrived at the diner with minutes to spare. Usually I was at least ten minutes early; lateness was a pet peeve of mine.
“I’m sorry, I overslept,” I said, reaching behind the counter for my apron.
“You’re not late, bang on time, actually. You changed your hair,” Rose said.
“I decided, new start, new me.” I said, forcing a smile. “What would you like me to do?”
“You can wait on section one, I’ll take a coffee break,” she said.
There were only two sections in the diner and
it had amused me, initially, to hear the seating area had been divided up. Section one was the row of booths lining the window. It was usually filled with truckers, or people passing through, those were the ones who tended to tip better. I liked section one.
I stood beside a family waiting on orders. At first they ignored me, continuing with their conversation while scanning the menu.
“They’ve arrested someone,” he said.
“Have they? That’s good, Mayor Stanton was such a lovely man. The reporter said they were looking for a woman, though,” she said.
I should have interrupted them, asked them if they’d chosen their meal but I wanted to hear more. Unfortunately, their two children diverted their conversation to food.
I took their order and placed it on the counter for Kieran. I decided to wash down a neighboring table in the hope I’d be able to overhear them pick up the subject, sadly they didn’t.
They’ve arrested someone. They’re looking for a woman.
Who had they arrested? The TV was set to an old football game and I was anxious to listen to the news. When the lunchtime rush was over, I set about to clean down the tables and mop the floor. It was the first time I wished my shift was over, so I could head back to the library to see if there was any news.
“Would you like something to eat?” Kieran called over to me as I stacked the dishwasher.
Although my stomach grumbled, I thanked him and told him I wasn’t hungry. I wanted to leave as soon as I could. When the clock showed three p.m., I pulled off my apron and left it under the counter.
“I’m off now,” I said.
“Okay, would you like a double shift tomorrow? I know it’s short notice, but my usual evening girl just called in, she can’t make it,” Rose asked.
“Of course, I’ll take everything you have available.”
She gave me a smile and a small envelope with that day’s earnings. It was handy being paid daily; I could watch my little stash of savings grow quicker. I wanted to ask her about alternative accommodation but that meant taking the risk of her speaking with Cecelia, and I didn’t want to upset either. I decided, once I’d checked out the newspapers at the library, I’d walk down to the motel and see what the room rental was.
Harlot Page 4
