Charlotte

by Keane, Stuart

  “Do you not watch porn? Better yet, ask your mum.”

  Mike said nothing.

  “Ask your mum. I’m sure your dad likes to debunk on her face now and then.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Now who’s lame?”

  Mike said nothing. He started walking backwards.

  “Now, fuck off out of my garden.” An awkward silence filled the air. Amy rolled the picnic blanket up and put it under her arm. She glared at Mike and waved. “Bye.”

  Mike, looking a little forlorn, backed away and strode out of the garden. He raised a hand and said nothing, turned his back and left.

  Amy bit her lip, saying nothing. After a second, she nodded. “He used to be a nice boy.” Amy turned and walked to the back door. Beyond, she saw her father snoozing in his armchair. She paused, looked at the bushes surrounding her garden, and made her way to them. She ducked, manoeuvred into a small gap between the hedge and fence and sat down.

  She started rocking.

  “He used to be a nice boy.”

  Moments earlier, from the kitchen window, Patricia watched her daughter disappear into the hedge. She stood idle, observing her for a good ten minutes. In silence. Patricia ran the idea through her head over and over, considering the implications. “Bruce?”

  “Yeah?” Bruce sat up, wiping drool from his face and sleep from his eyes. “What’s up?”

  “I think something is wrong with Amy.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not sure. I think we need to take her to a doctor.”

  “She ill?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean a shrink, not a medical doctor.”

  “I’m sure everything is fine. She’s a kid. Kids do weird stuff.”

  “She has an imaginary friend…and she’s changed somewhat in the past week or so.”

  “Kids change all the time, darling. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “You haven’t seen it though…it’s creepy.”

  “Creepy how? Omen creepy or…”

  “I’m serious.”

  Bruce stood up and stretched his arms. His elbows cracked, drawing a wince from his wife. He walked over. “Okay. If you want to do this, I’m with you.” Bruce placed his arms around her waist. He kissed her on the shoulder. “Whatever you want, we’ll do it.”

  “It’s strange. She tidied her room. She swore at me. She heard us…you know?”

  “What? Fucking?”

  “Yep…smooth as always. Why can’t you call it making love at least once?”

  “Let’s face it, darling, we do anything but…make love.”

  Patricia smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “So our kid tidies her room, swears and listens to people having sex? Sounds normal to me.”

  “I don’t know. There’s something about her…you know she has an imaginary friend called Charlotte?”

  “Really?” Bruce nuzzled into his wife’s neck.

  “Yeah. It just feels iffy. I shit myself earlier when Amy said she was in the backseat.”

  “Who, Charlotte?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You need to stop watching those dumb horror movies. That’ll make you paranoid. And if you really shit yourself, I ain’t washing your panties.”

  Patricia grinned and slapped her husband’s arm playfully. She felt the slap reverberate through her waist as his arms hugged her tightly. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”

  “We’ll see a doctor as soon as we can. Better safe than sorry.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  FIVE

  “So how old is Amy?”

  Patricia looked at her husband to ensure he was paying attention. Bruce Brunswick shuffled uncomfortably in his leather chair. He answered for the couple. “Nine.”

  “Uh huh.” The psychologist scribbled a note on his pad. “How is her home life?”

  “How do you mean?” Patricia took a sip of water.

  “To be blunt, do you bring her up well, nurture her, and pay her ample attention?”

  Patricia nodded. “As much as we can. We both work, but we do okay.”

  Bruce rubbed his neck. “I spend a lot of time away on business. Pat here works from home a lot. Amy goes to school as normal, she’s a normal kid.”

  “We don’t hit her if that’s what you mean? We don’t neglect her.” Patricia looked down as the words escaped her lips, ashamed she’d even mentioned them.

  Bruce sat up, shocked. His eyes burned a hole through the doctor opposite him. “You’re not insinuating that, are you?”

  “Not at all. I just need some background. Several things normally bring on this condition. I just need to rule things out.” He scribbled once more. “Does Amy have any medical conditions, anything that may affect the brain?”

  Bruce said nothing. Patricia nodded slowly. “She has weak lungs, due to asthma. It’s calmed down in recent years. We didn’t know how severe it was until…”

  “What, Mrs. Brunswick?”

  “She was playing on a swing in a playground and she fell, hit her chin and then her chest. She was unconscious for several minutes. I’ve never been so frightened in all my life. When we got her checked out, we found out she has weak lungs. Winding her pretty much renders her unconscious. I’m a little protective because of this…no playgrounds, no physical activities. I don’t want her getting winded and falling on her neck or something.”

  “Understandable,” the doctor said as he scribbled some more.

  Patricia sighed. “Dr. Barden, is this normal behaviour? The friend thing, I mean.”

  “Depends on your view. Kids develop in different ways. Some have actual friends, some are outgoing and normal. Others don’t, they become secluded. That sometimes means imaginary friends or total isolation from social contact.”

  Bruce retorted, “She had friends. She goes out and stuff…used to. The boy next door is her best friend and they always hang out together.”

  “Not always, Bruce. I don’t think they’ve spoken in months.”

  “Well, I don’t know. I’m never there.”

  Dr. Barden, sensing a conflict, coughed. Both parents looked towards him. “Let’s focus on Amy for now, she’s our main concern.”

  Both parents nodded in silence.

  A soft knock on the door caught Dr. Barden’s attention. “Excuse me.” He stood up, taking his notepad with him. He reached the door and opened it. A few words exchanged; he nodded, and closed the door. He returned to his seat. “Sorry about that, my cleaner.”

  “Problem?” Patricia asked, sipping her water.

  “No, I’m a bit of a germaphobe. She blitzes my office on a daily basis. After each shift, she comes in and works her magic. I couldn’t work here without her, she keeps it spotless.”

  “Nice.”

  “It’s a little extreme and obsessive but, hey, it keeps my office clean and I know I can relax. However, I’m sorry to interrupt your time for this.”

  Both parents nodded, accepting the mild interruption.

  Dr. Barden nodded. “So, let’s continue. Now, what’s the boy’s name? The boy next door?”

  “Mike. Mike King.”

  “Uh huh.” The doctor made a note. “How long have they known one another?”

  “Couple of years. We sometimes have him over to the house for dinner. His parents too.”

  “See, this is good. She has normal friends, normal contact. Or did. This can all help in the long term.” Dr. Barden placed his hands on the notepad. He laced his fingers together.

  Both of the parents smiled. Bruce placed his hand on Patricia’s trembling palm.

  “How long has she been exhibiting this…friendship?”

  “A week, maybe two. Maybe longer that we don’t know of,” Patricia answered, swallowing. Bruce gripped the back of her hand.

  “And the friend’s name?”

  “Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know an
yone called Charlotte? Anyone in your family or anyone related to you?”

  “No.”

  “Are there any friends at Amy’s school called Charlotte?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “How about anyone who…” Dr. Barden pushed his glasses up his nose. “…passed away?”

  “No. Is this important?”

  “Could be.” Dr. Barden smiled. “It’s better to have all the facts before making a diagnosis. Sometimes, it’s a phase and passes quite quickly.”

  “Good to hear. She’s been…brighter since it happened.”

  “Brighter?” Dr. Barden picked up his pen.

  “Yes, more outgoing, confident. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

  Dr. Barden made a note. “Has she changed in a negative way?”

  “No, not that I’m aware of.”

  Bruce stood up, pushing his chair back. “Doctor, I feel you’re wasting our time…”

  “Sit down, Bruce,” Patricia growled.

  “Please sit down, Mr. Brunswick. I just need the facts. Without the facts, I can’t help you.”

  “You’re being very blasé.” Bruce lowered back into his seat.

  “I am?” Dr. Barden set his notepad down on the table beside him and removed his glasses. “Okay. It’s your child so I can understand your concern. Fire away. Ask me anything.”

  Silence filled the room.

  Patricia cleared her throat. “What is an imaginary friend…I know that sounds daft.”

  “Not at all. There are no daft questions, only daft answers. Which I aim to avoid. Let me lay it out to you. For various reasons, about seventy percent of children have an imaginary friend at some time in their life. Age varies too. I’ll admit, nine is a little old for such a thing but then again, adults have them too so it’s not that unusual. Each case is different. The good news is that imaginary friends can help a child develop, increase their social development, and it has been documented that some children with such a friend are more intelligent. How is Amy on an educational level?”

  Patricia sat forward. “An excellent student, her grades are very high, consistent.”

  “So there you go, it’s not uncommon. At the moment; it seems harmless and will remain that way. Some imaginary friends exist in a tutelary capacity and I believe Charlotte is acting in this way for Amy. Based on what you’ve told me.”

  “Tutelary? Quit with the medical jargon, Doctor.” Bruce stroked his chin.

  “A guardian or protector. From the Latin definition. Charlotte protects Amy. That much is clear. You said yourself that she’s been brighter, more confident since Charlotte appeared. The evidence speaks for itself. Amy feels safe around Charlotte.”

  Both parents remained silent.

  “You may find that, in secret, Amy shares her anxieties and goals with Charlotte, sees her as a companion to struggle through childhood. For some, it’s all rainbows and unicorns, but some children mature faster and life starts to test them sooner. I’m not saying you neglect Amy, but you spend a lot of time involved in your careers. Children notice this sort of thing.”

  “We don’t neglect her. We spend… well, Pat spends time with her. I do on weekends.”

  “And that’s good, don’t get me wrong. You have to remember though, Amy will see her friends at school getting more attention from teachers and parents and she wonders where hers is, subconsciously. Charlotte could be born out of that alone, providing her companionship because, in her mind, she doesn’t get it at home. To a degree that she craves.”

  “So we spend more time with her. Simple.”

  “Yes, in theory that’s great. Remember this, though; Charlotte is here to stay for now. She’s in her head. Just because you spend more time with Amy, you shouldn’t expect Charlotte to leave. It won’t happen overnight. Amy has already confided in her. You can’t push her out. Amy won’t react well to it.”

  Patricia looked at Bruce.

  Bruce looked at his wife. He turned to Dr. Barden. “Can we bring her in, to see you?”

  The doctor opened a small black diary. “Of course. I can speak to Amy. I do insist we do it alone, though. No parents allowed. If I’m to help Amy, I need to do it one on one.”

  “When can you see her?”

  Dr. Barden checked his schedule. After a moment, he looked up. “How’s Wednesday at one?”

  Bruce groaned. “I’m working. I might be able to get it off though.”

  Patricia nodded. “I’ll bring her in. We need to get this looked into.”

  “I’ll still see if I can book holiday, it’s important,” Bruce uttered.

  “I don’t mind coming alone, Bruce,” Patricia said wearily.

  “I want to be here. For once.”

  Patricia nodded, saying nothing.

  Dr. Barden nodded. “Excellent, I’ll schedule you in. Remember; don’t try to force Charlotte out. If you start bonding with Amy, she’ll fade gradually. Don’t force it.”

  “Of course not,” said Bruce.

  “One more thing, Doctor?” Patricia scratched her cheek. “Does Charlotte appear when Amy is asleep?”

  “No, why do you ask?”

  “Curious is all. It sounds pathetic, but it creeps me out if I go into her room at night now. I’m scared to go and see my little girl. Is that weird?”

  Dr. Barden smiled. “Not at all. Parents are usually sceptical about this condition. As long as Amy is asleep or her brain is not functioning—sleep or otherwise—Charlotte will retreat. Amy’s brain generates Charlotte, nothing more.”

  “That’s good then.” Patricia didn’t seem happy with the answer.

  A silence settled between them.

  Dr. Barden checked his watch and stood up. “It was nice to meet you. I can’t wait to meet Amy; she seems like a great kid.” He handed them a business card. “My information…should you need it.”

  Both parents nodded. Patricia accepted the card and left the room.

  Bruce turned to Dr. Barden. “Doctor…level with me. Can imaginary friends hurt their companions…I mean, can Charlotte hurt Amy or anyone around her?”

  “Of course not. It’s all in her head. Charlotte is completely harmless.”

  In the car, Patricia lit a cigarette and toked on it. Bruce climbed in a moment later. He inhaled the smoke. “That smells good.”

  “Our kid is damaged, isn’t she?”

  Bruce nodded. “Dr. Barden will make her better.”

  Patricia frowned and passed the cigarette to her husband. “What about Charlotte?”

  “She’s gone. We get rid of her. Whatever it takes.”

  SIX

  The range of confectionary in the school canteen was astounding.

  Amy was standing by the counter, taking in the sights, literally like a kid in a candy store. Her last class had let out two minutes earlier; in a rare occurrence, she’d made it to the canteen with little or minimal interaction with other children, meaning she’d got there first. As she stood, marvelling at the delicacies on display, kids were slowly filtering through the door.

  The three pounds in her closed fist felt like gold, both in weight and rarity.

  Her mother discouraged her from doughnuts and chips and cookies and anything likely to rot her teeth. She understood why, her mother had taught her well in regards to eating properly and maintaining a diet, which wasn’t that difficult considering.

  Today, she didn’t care.

  She was going to get the sweetest, most glorious food, and no one was going to stop her.

  Not even Ted fucking Fox.

  She knew he would show his fat face at some point, as sure as the clock struck twelve twice a day. Until then, she would plan the best lunch she’d had since a Burger King two weeks ago. The thought of a chicken burger made her search the hot food selection. They had two trays of them, glowing under the yellow heat lamps, looking delicious and tempting. As she gazed across the canteen, her mouth opened in awe.

  Her eyes were wide with wonder at the selection on
display.

  Monster Munch, Pringles, Frazzles, Transform-A-Snack, Walkers, Wotsits, Doritos, Quavers and Space Raiders for the crisps. Pepsi, Coke, Tango, Lilt, 7-UP, and Panda Pops—green cola, cherryade, dandelion and burdock, and lemonade—for the fizzy drinks, as well as water, Ribena and Hi Juice. Homemade doughnuts, chips, sausage rolls, cream cakes, bacon sandwiches, waffles, croissants, as well as normal meals like spaghetti bolognese, jacket potatoes, burgers both cheese and chicken, and pizza. To Amy’s left, shelved by the till, was a variety of chocolate bars, chewing gum, mints, and confectionary.

  Amy flicked her eyes over the menu once more and made her decision. She grabbed a damp tray from the pile and walked towards the queue, which was only three kids long.

  “There she is!”

  Ted walked over with two new cronies in tow, Sanjay and Lennie. Amy didn’t know either of them; she only knew that Sanjay had transferred recently and was susceptible to bad influence—maybe Ted threatened to sit on him—and Lennie was nobody, a glory hunter. He’d hang around with whoever wanted to kick his arse and be his lapdog, to prevent a pounding. Amy smiled inside, half expecting him to drop to his knees and start panting.

  Ted wobbled as he walked over, his mottled belly protruding from beneath his too-tight grey jumper. His face was pink and sweating as he grinned, exposing his badly kept, yellow fangs. Amy wondered how much food passed through those a day.

  He pushed a smaller boy, two grades below, out of the way and came face to face with Amy. She didn’t back down or try to run away. She stood her ground.

  “Well, well, we meet again, Brunswick.”

  Amy said nothing. Didn’t react.

  “I think you have something for me?”

  Again, she didn’t respond. Her eyes roamed from Ted to Sanjay, to Lennie, and back to Ted again. Ted laughed nervously, fazed by the lack of fear from his prey.

  “I said…”

  “I heard what you said, Ted. No, I don’t have anything for you.”

  “Really? We’ll see about that.”

  Ted didn’t do anything. Amy didn’t flinch. Stalemate.

  “Will we? Go on then.”

  Ted laughed nervously and swiped the sweat from his greasy brow. His jowls jiggled with his laughter. He looked to his cronies for confidence and lunged towards Amy, without warning.