Take a Chance on Me

by Carol Wyer

  ‘So, are you sure you are going to complete Mercedes’s Carpe De, De, Diddlydum list?’ asked Ryan, holding on to the wall for support.

  Charlie finished her drink in one. ‘I am. Guide’s honour,’ she mumbled as she curled up on the sofa and fell unconscious.

  Six

  Charlie sat hunched on a kitchen stool, head in hands and groaned loudly. Mercedes ignored her and continued rooting about the cupboards for a frying pan, looking up only when an ashen-faced Ryan appeared at the kitchen door.

  ‘How many bottles of beer did I drink?’ he asked, surveying the mess in the kitchen. Bentley scampered over his feet, carrying a sock dragged from a radiator, oblivious to his master’s hangover.

  ‘In dog beers you had five,’ answered an alert and cheerful Mercedes. Bentley dropped his treasure by Ryan’s feet and waited for him to play with him. When Ryan ignored him, he picked up the sock, trotted back to his bed and proceeded to chew it.

  ‘It’s not fair. How come you haven’t got a rotten head?’

  ‘I drank three buckets of water before I went to bed while you were drooling in the chair. Works every time. You have to get up a lot in the night but better that than a sore head. Fancy some fried eggs? It’s a bit late for breakfast. This is more like a cross between lunch and tea. I think I’ll call it lea.’

  Ryan’s face paled further. ‘No, I’ll pass if you don’t mind. Morning, I mean afternoon, Charlie. You okay?’

  Charlie raised her head to gaze at him with bloodshot eyes. ‘Hi and no. I feel lousy. What a night! I ache from zonking on the sofa. I haven’t been that drunk for years. I can remember someone trying to shove a balloon down the front of my top and I can recall playing Kazoo Karaoke but then it all goes fuzzy. I can’t recollect anything after I said goodbye to the guy from Thailand. Not a darn thing. Did I do anything stupid?’

  Mercedes wiped toast crumbs from her lips and replied, ‘No, apart from whipping off your clothes and tearing off down the high street singing “The Streak”, you behaved quite well. Oh, and I expect you might not remember this.’ She held up Ryan’s phone and pressed play.

  ‘Did I really take off my clothes?’ asked Charlie, taking the phone from Mercedes. The question was forgotten as she watched the short video.

  ‘Now, that, I don’t remember,’ she said, having replayed the video twice. ‘Is it for real?

  Mercedes nodded. ‘It certainly is. We wrote and then swapped Carpe Diem lists.

  ‘Whatever did I write on my list?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Aha, that’s for me to know and for you to find out. I’m only going to divulge the list item by item. You and I have to complete each item before going on to the next one and by the end of them all, you’ll be a new, more fulfilled Charlie. Now, anyone for eggs?’

  Seven

  Charlie did not have to wait long to find out what was on the list. It happened the following afternoon. She was watching a film when the phone rang. It was Mercedes.

  ‘I’ve got to go to London for an appointment with my specialist, so I thought we’d start the list. We’re going to lunch.’

  ‘That’s not much of a challenge, is it? You’ve not got a surprise where I’m actually cooking the meal or you’ve arranged for me to be a waitress, have you? I know how you think. You’ve got a devious mind.’

  ‘Devious? Moi? You’ve got me mixed up with someone else. No, just lunch. I’ve booked us a table. You can do some shopping if you like and I’ll meet you after my appointment. I’ve arranged it for Friday. Sean said he’ll cover your show. You know how he wants to practise presenting. He’s been begging to do a few slots.’

  ‘Friday it is then.’

  ‘I’ll be around at nine. That’ll give us plenty of time to travel there, and for me to visit the clinic and then have lunch.’

  * * *

  The journey down was uneventful. Mercedes was quieter than usual. Charlie left her to her thoughts. It wasn’t until they were near Watford Gap that Mercedes spoke up.

  ‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m dreadful company,’ began Mercedes. ‘I’m actually terrified. I’m seeing a consultant today.’

  Charlie gasped. ‘Are you ill? Is it serious?’

  ‘No, not at all. Quite the opposite. I’m healthy. Ryan and I, well we’ve been trying to have a baby. We’ve been trying for over a year. At first, we thought it might not be possible what with me being paralysed and all, but I did a load of research on the internet and there are lots of cases of women in similar states of paralysis who’ve gone on to have children.’ She paused for a moment and concentrated on the traffic in front that was slowing behind a large vehicle. Charlie waited not wishing to interrupt her friend.

  ‘So I went to my GP and she said it was completely viable for me to have children. We tried but nothing happened. Every month it’s the same old story: I hope I’m going to be pregnant and then my period starts up like clockwork and I’m horribly disappointed. Sorry, I know this is difficult for you, which is why I’ve not brought it up before, but it’s really getting to me, Charlie.’

  Mercedes lifted moist eyes towards her friend. She had not wanted to hurt her by evoking memories of Amy. Charlie shook her head.

  ‘It’s typical of you to consider my feelings before your own. Listen, there isn’t anything you can’t talk to me about. I care about you more than anyone else in my life. And, for what it’s worth, I think you and Ryan would make amazing parents. Nothing would make me happier,’ Charlie said.

  Mercedes dabbed at a runaway tear before continuing. ‘I want to have Ryan’s baby so much it hurts. It tears me up, and some days I can’t think about anything else. It’s hard enough being in that bloody wheelchair all the time and making an effort every sodding day, trying to stay positive. It’s a drag sometimes. A real drag and I can be a complete bitch when I’m feeling low. And this has just made it worse. Ryan’s been copping it big time recently and it isn’t his fault. It’s not his fault I’m not able to behave like a normal woman, that I can’t do normal things. You’ve seen me struggling to haul myself off the damn thing just to go to the loo. It’s just too much some days. And now, I can’t even get pregnant. I can’t have the one thing I want more than anything else in the world: a baby. I’m such a failure.’

  Mercedes sniffed as angry tears threatened her vision.

  Charlie was lost for words.

  After a few more minutes of listening to sniffing, Charlie asked, ‘Do you want to pull in at the service station for a while and chat about it?’

  Mercedes nodded. They drove the remaining mile in silence. As they pulled into a space, Mercedes dropped her head in to her arms and cried. Charlie put her arm around her and stroked her hair, soothing her as she used to soothe Amy when she was upset. Eventually, a red-eyed Mercedes lifted her face.

  ‘Sorry, Charlie.’

  ‘Shh! You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve carried this frustration around for too long and it’s built up inside you. You need to let it out. Let’s get one thing straight, though. You are not a failure. I don’t need to tell you how untrue that is. As for having a baby, well, lots of people struggle. We live in a society where it’s just assumed you try for a baby and you conceive. That isn’t the case. There are hundreds of thousands of ordinary women who find it difficult or impossible to fall pregnant. In your case, I doubt it’s to do with your disability. As you said, there’re examples on the internet of women like you who have had children. The consultant will help you understand what’s going on and give you the advice you need.’

  ‘I’m so scared he’s going to say that there’s some complication and I can’t have children. Ryan deserves better. He loves children. He’d be such a great father and I feel like I’m such a flipping burden at the best of times. Christ! He’s got a wife who’s stuck in a wheelchair and now it looks like she can’t even give him a child. He shouldn’t have married me.’

  ‘Now you’re being silly. Ryan adores you. He loved you from the moment he met you and he sees
way beyond a wheelchair. He’ll stick by you whatever the outcome. And if it is bad news, there are other ways of having children. You could even consider adoption.’

  Mercedes blew her nose noisily into a tissue and nodded once more.

  ‘You’re right. I’m letting it get to me again. But, Charlie, you understand. You of all people know how hard it is for me some days. I hate being in this wheelchair. I hate what happened to me. And worst of all, I hate myself.’

  ‘Hey, come on. You’ve proven lots of people wrong in the past. I know if anyone is going to succeed and have a baby by hook or by crook, it’ll be you. Medical science is wonderful these days and you haven’t even heard what the consultant has to say. So, put your happy face back on and let’s go and find out. Shall I come in with you?’

  ‘I’d rather I saw the consultant alone, if you don’t mind. Ryan wanted to come with me too but I want to deal with this myself. I can’t explain why. I suppose if it’s bad news I need the time and space to digest it and deal with it before I tell anyone.’

  ‘No, I can understand. But if you change your mind, I’ll come with you.’

  Mercedes wiped off the black mascara stains from under her eyes. ‘Better get going. I don’t want to be late,’ she said without enthusiasm.

  ‘You’ll be fine. It won’t be bad news. I’m sure.’

  ‘I wish I had your optimism.’

  ‘I’ll lend it to you for today.’

  ‘Deal!’

  They set off and joined the motorway again. The subject was dropped and conversation became lighter. Charlie concentrated on telling stories about Art, who having been put on a strict diet by his wife, Pat, had taken to hiding food in all sorts of interesting places and scoffing slices of cake at every opportunity in the café when Pat was out of range. The tales of all his antics soon had Mercedes smiling.

  At Oxford Street, Mercedes swung the van into a space reserved for unloading lorries.

  ‘You can’t stop here,’ said Charlie.

  Mercedes grinned. ‘Bonus of a disabled badge and a wheelchair. Anyway, it’s only for a minute, out you get. I’ll meet you at Archipelago restaurant on Cleveland Street at twelve-thirty. Have fun.’

  ‘Good luck, Mercedes. You’ll be fine. Stay positive.’

  ‘Will do. See you later.’

  Charlie meandered off to the shops where she found little she wanted to purchase. She seemed to have lost enthusiasm for shopping. She was comfortable in her baggy jumpers and jeans. And it wasn’t as if she had many occasions to dress up. Today, she had made an effort and was wearing one of three smart outfits she owned. Even that was a little tight on her. After Gavin and she split up, she had found solace in baking and eating. She had put on quite a few pounds and although she was not too large, she certainly was not the same shapely Charlie she used to be. Many of her clothes from that era no longer fitted. She found it easier to hide her shape under T-shirts and jumpers.

  * * *

  Eventually, worn out by the marauding crowds of shoppers trying to bag bargains in the sales, Charlie flagged down a taxi and requested Archipelago restaurant. She would be early but the thought of spending any more time avoiding people was too much to contemplate.

  After a short journey, the taxi pulled into a quiet side street. Charlie paid the driver and went into Archipelago. It was mesmerising. It was without doubt one of the most astonishing restaurants she had ever visited. The décor was decadent, a little kitsch and romantic. She had seen nothing like it before. The dining room was stuffed full of eclectic travel paraphernalia from all over the world, including golden Buddhas, palm trees and peacock feathers.

  A waiter took her name and confirmed she and Mercedes were booked in for lunch. He offered to let her go downstairs to the drinks lounge by the kitchen whilst she waited for her friend. She agreed, asking if she could be called back up when Mercedes arrived, then descended into a tiny basement room, with a couple of tables and bench-style seating around the perimeter of the room and no windows, equally as exotic as the room above. She was given a drinks menu – a scroll of parchment that looked like it should have been a nautical treasure map, rolled into a leather scroll holder. After much deliberation, she ordered a Strawberry Blush, which turned out to be fresh strawberries muddled with vodka and Grand Marnier and topped with ginger ginseng. A few sips later, everything was starting to look and feel brighter. Although she was alone in the room, she suddenly felt an unexpected sense of adventure and power. So it was a slightly inebriated Charlie who climbed back up the stairs to meet her friend.

  ‘How did you get on?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘He confirmed that I’m physically able to conceive. He thinks we’re trying too hard and that I’m wound up about it. He seems to think it’ll happen once we stop overthinking it,’ Mercedes replied with a smile. ‘I guess we’ll have to keep trying. I hope Ryan’s still got the energy now he’s been promoted. Anyway, enough talk of babies for the moment. I feel like celebrating my good news so let’s enjoy ourselves. What do you think of this place?’

  ‘Amazing. I feel like I’ve been transported to another country.’

  ‘That’s the intention. Have you seen the menu?’

  ‘I’ve seen and sampled from the drinks menu. I could drink another three of those bad boys,’ she said, pointing to her now empty glass.

  ‘I thought you were looking jolly relaxed. Bought anything nice?’

  ‘No. It was frantic and I couldn’t see anything I fancied. I even got a blister from trying to walk around excited tourists and frenzied shopaholics. They’re mad. They can’t help themselves. The second they see the word “sale” or “reduced” they herd towards the offering. There were bouncers at the exits of every high street store. I can’t imagine how much stuff must get stolen if they need bouncers. Or, maybe they’re actually there to protect the staff from crazy shoppers.’

  A waiter approached with menus, as thoughtfully presented as the drinks parchment, glued into the pages of old leather-bound books. Charlie read the starter choices and looked up horrified.

  ‘You’re kidding. This can’t be for real.’

  Mercedes was watching her friend’s face and chuckled. ‘This is my first Carpe Diem challenge. I got the idea from I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here! I can’t afford to send you to a jungle, or navigate the bush myself in my wheelchair but I can try to give us both a similar experience right here. I’m in charge of what we choose and eat. This is going to be huge fun. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to eat chocolate-covered scorpions or bug salad?’

  ‘No, I can’t say I have.’

  ‘Now’s your opportunity. We’re going to have our very own jungle bush tucker trial and I’m taking photos of every dish you sample. This’ll be the beginning of a new, more adventurous Charlie.’

  Charlie shook her head in disbelief. ‘This menu is outrageous,’ she commented. ‘I wonder what, exactly, was in that Strawberry Blush I drank. I hope it wasn’t something too gruesome. What shall we go for?’

  ‘I ordered when I booked us the table and requested some of the dishes they normally serve on the evening à la carte menu. I wanted it to be even more exciting, so I’ve gone for zhug marinaded kangaroo skewer, spicy crocodile bites, Burmese Embrace, and a Serengeti Strut, with a side order of love bug salad and a sprinkle of weaver ants,’ Mercedes announced. ‘Don’t pull that face. They’re mighty nutritious. Kangaroo, crocodile, wildebeest and ostrich are extremely low in fat and cholesterol and therefore provide great alternatives to beef and lamb and they’re a highly sustainable source of protein. All of the ingredients here are organic, free range and are either farmed or are part of a nationally recognised culling programme; and they use nothing that has been irresponsibly taken from the wild.’

  ‘What’s a Burmese Embrace?’

  ‘Sweet-chilli-smoked python carpaccio, green tea and wasabi crackers and olive puree,’ Mercedes said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

  ‘And a Serengeti
Strut? Please don’t tell me it’s a giraffe.’

  ‘Zebra. Crispy zebra “jerky”, boerewors – they’re a South African sausage – and it comes with carrot and ginger fluid gel and biltong soil. Biltong soil – that’s pretty much just spices.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ said Charlie, flatly, downing her wine in one. The waiter appeared with a couple of businessmen. They were ushered to the next table. Charlie could not help but stare. Dressed in dark blue chinos, crisp shirt and wearing a jacket that looked like it had come out of a designer boutique sat a good-looking man in his forties. He thanked the waiter and ordered a bottle of mineral water. He glanced up and caught Charlie ogling him. He gave her a smile, nodded politely then picked up his menu. She was reminded of the quote from Hardy Amies who once declared, “A man should look as if he had bought his clothes with intelligence, put them on with care and then forgotten all about them.” This man fitted the bill exactly. He looked masculine and elegant. For a second she was completely distracted.

  ‘Earth to Charlie. Grub up,’ whispered Mercedes, nudging her friend. The waiter deposited an array of dishes in front of them.

  ‘So, Miss Blundell. How do you feel about tackling the bush tucker trial?’ asked Mercedes, pulling her phone out of her bag and snapping a photo of a horrified Charlie staring at the dishes.

  ‘I think I need some more wine.’

  ‘You can do this without wine. People come from all over the place to eat here. Just close your eyes and try one of these fried locusts.’ Mercedes dropped a couple onto Charlie’s plate and waited patiently while Charlie pulled faces.

  ‘Come on Charlie. They’re not going to harm you.’

  ‘Why on earth did you choose to put this on your list?’

  ‘Plain and simple curiosity. I wondered what it would taste like. Now, get chomping.’

  Charlie pinched her nose, tossed a locust into her mouth and crunched down onto its body, wincing as she did so. After a few seconds, she let go of her nose and opened her eyes.