The Waiting List (Strong Women Book 5)

by Sarah Till

  “Nothing. I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t actually mean it like that. It’s just that I get upset. I’ve lived my life like a fucking saint and everyone who’s had children get their man. And I’m still here all alone.”

  A stray tear dripped down my nose and Johnny looked devastated.

  “Oh, Clem, Clem, don’t cry. It’s OK. Oh, I hate it when people cry.”

  My drip had turned to a cascade.

  “I’d never hurt Jenni for the world and I love Samantha and Jacob.” I saw him scribble the names down on a jotter. “It’s nothing personal against her or them, but it just doesn’t seem fair. I collect all my pennies, I make my list, I never tread on a nick or I’ll marry a stick. And yet all those people who don’t do any of those things are luckier.”

  Johnny rushed around the desk brandishing a tissue.

  “Don’t cry, Clem. Your day will come. And those things, do they really work? I mean, lucky pennies. I gave one to the homeless guy last week, remember? I doubt whether he was immediately appointed the MD of Coca Cola?”

  I sniffed and laughed a little.

  “Someone did give him fifty pounds, though. I saw a guy give him a fifty-pound note as I left that day. So, it did work for him. So why doesn’t it work for me?”

  Johnny sighed.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. But you know I’m always here for you, don’t you? Like a loyal, reliable little puppy. Just kidding, although I am as cute as a loyal little puppy.”

  I smiled at him, even though my eyes were black with mascara and my nose was red. It was a shame we weren’t attracted to each other because he did actually tick quite a few boxes. Loyal, reliable, precise. He did have puppy dog eyes, now I came to think of it. But he belonged to Jenni now.

  “So, will you tell her or will I? Actually, I’m going out tonight, so you could pop round and talk to her. I have to warn you though, she doesn’t usually date.”

  “I know, Clem. I’ve been admiring her from a distance for some time, now. I just didn’t know how to approach her.”

  “Approach Jenni? Just go for the jugular. That’s what she would do.” I touched his hand over the desk. “I’ll let her know you’re coming. Good luck.”

  I returned to my desk via a face touch up in the ladies.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The morning went well and I kept my phone on my desk just in case anyone rang. My dad, Tim, the police, Jenni. I wasn't really sure who I was expecting to call me, but my eyes barely left my phone’s screen.

  I'd just finished the report I was working on when Dad called. I almost didn't answer. It was becoming a habit. Last week I couldn't wait for the phone to ring. This week I dreaded it. I eventually pushed the green button and spoke.

  “Hiya, Dad. How have you fared?”

  “Not good news, Clementine. Early bird catches the worm, so I phoned the station around eight. They got back to me and took some details then rang me back just now. They said that they couldn't really investigate something that we only had a rough idea about from some photographs found in someone's bedroom. Someone we don't know.”

  “Yes, Dad, but I do know him. In fact, I'm seeing him tonight.”

  “Right then, why don't we ask him a bit more about this girl we think is Charlotte?”

  We? He was turning my date into a family outing.

  “No. I'll ask him. The reason why I haven't already done so is because he doesn't know I've taken the photographs.”

  Dad sighed and I pictured him rubbing his head.

  “Well, tell him then. Surely your sister is more important than this chap, Clementine.” I seriously had to weigh this up. Of course, she was important but until we knew it was Charlotte for sure, Tim took up my thoughts. “Your mother has been going frantic all day. I had to make her go for a lie down earlier. She wanted to go round to that girl’s house and knock on the door. I told her we don't know the number, but she wants to go round there. And the police told us to stay away until we had more proof. The bloke I spoke to said that we shouldn't go bothering this girl until we're sure it's Charlotte. I think they've still got that incident on file where your Mum was stopping strangers in the street and insisting they help her look for Charlotte. To be honest, I don't think police are going to help us, love.”

  “They must be able to do something, did they not say anything else, Dad?”

  He breathed heavily down the phone.

  “Yes. They said that the case had been closed and they had filed it under runaways. And that if it was Charlotte and she didn't want anything to do with us after all this time then that was her decision as an adult. I didn't tell your mother that bit. I didn't want to dash her hopes. At least she's put the shovel away. For now.”

  “Right. Look, I'll come round tomorrow night and we can talk about this. Don't go round to Carlisle Crescent, Dad, as we need to agree on how to approach this.”

  “Yes, you're right, Clementine. Very sensible. You need to apply that sense to your personal life and stop going home with strange men. We worry.”

  “Yes, Dad. I will. I'll be round at teatime tomorrow. Bye.”

  He was gone. I pictured him walking back through the house and putting the kettle on. Him and Mum sitting together having a cup of tea. Talking, touching each other's arm for comfort. I'd hoped that they would be a comfort to each other when Charlotte went out, but it had never materialised, not in front of me, anyway. Nowadays, it was different, as they seemed closer than they had in years. It was good for them. They had each other. I still had no one.

  The rest of the day went quickly and I was walking towards my car in no time at all. The butterflies were back, half flapping, half whispering, 'he belongs to someone else.' Before I went to meet him, I had another job to do. It was dark now, November and after the clocks had gone back. I drove to Carlisle Crescent as quickly as I could; I would sit there until I saw her, or her daughter, go into the house. When I arrived, I parked in a side street that allowed me to see the whole of the horseshoe-shaped road. It wasn't a cul-de-sac as it had a road leading out at the other end.

  There were ten houses, neat semi-detached. I tried to assess which house would be owned by my sister, the sixteen-year-old who had loved the colour red and hated beige. All the curtains were neutral, a sort of suburban uniform of off-white and light brown and only shades between the two. There were no obvious clues as to which house it was. Only one house had a car in the drive and I wondered if she had gone to work and was due home. Would she drive, or catch the train? Her daughter would be already home from school, my niece, sitting in one of those houses. I sat back, trying to look inconspicuous. It would look weird if I sat here for too long, so I waited another ten minutes then got out of the car and went for a walk.

  I took my bag and made it look like I was going to visit someone. I walked slowly along the pavement, looking in the windows of the houses. They reminded me of the theatre, each one staging a different play as the families inside laughed, ate, watched TV. One family were gathered in the lounge playing violins and a cello. I walked round twice. Seven of the houses were definitely not hers. They housed large families and were much more than the three people Tim had indicated. I decided that another circuit would look sinister, so I strolled down the opposite entrance and along the road. A few hundred yards on the left, I spotted it. Dad's car. Two dark figures were pressed back in the seat. I hurried over and knocked on the window. Dad wound it down and I caught sight of Mum, complete with rubber ring, in the passenger seat. Dad wore a Burger King cap pulled down over sunglasses like some kind of crazed drug dealer. He held a pair of night vision goggles. Mum had a pashmina draped over her head along with sunglasses.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing? What are you doing here? I told you to stay away until I found out which house it was.”

  Dad removed his sunglasses.

  “I might ask you the same question, young lady.”

  His voice was a greatly exaggerated stage whisper.

 
“What am I doing here? I just told you. Trying to find the bloody address.”

  Mum tutted.

  “Language, Clementine.”

  So, I was Clementine again now, was I?

  “You two go home. What were you going to do? Ambush her as she comes in from work? Shoulder-barge her front door? Bloody hell.”

  I stood up straight. Dad tapped my arm.

  “We were just trying to help. Your mother wanted to see where she lived, that's all.”

  I looked at Mum. She looked tiny huddled in the car with a blanket around her. In the half-light of the street lamp above the car, I noticed she looked old. She looked like an elderly person, wrinkly and worn out. I spoke more softly now.

  “Go home, Dad. Mum needs a rest. I'll find out which house it is and let you know as soon as I do. Go on home.”

  Dad reluctantly started the engine and they chugged off into the crescent, driving once round all the houses and then onto the main road. I turned and walked back up the road away from the crescent. My hands in my pocket, I felt my lips catch the wind. I pulled Tim's hat from my bag and dragged it roughly over my hair, tucking stray curls underneath. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I saw her. She walked towards me, swinging her shopping bag, humming gently to herself. She was taller than me, and thinner. Her hair was longer than mine but the same glossy curls fell around her shoulders. Her lips were curved in a half smile, and as I carried on walking to her, she moved over to the outside of the pavement. After she passed me, I stopped and looked at her back. Wide shoulders, slim waist, a measured step. I waited until she turned and rushed to follow her. She turned left. Only one of the houses was not lit up with evening warmth, and my eyes followed her to number four Carlisle Crescent.

  She was gone. The lights flicked on and she was inside her home, safe from the world and none the wiser that her ex's new girlfriend was watching her every move. None the wiser that someone who believed she was their long-lost sister stood in the freezing night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’d seen her. She was walking up the road, swinging her bag, not a care in the world while I stood on the cold street spying on her. Too scared to approach her, too scared to upset her, in case she runs again. If I was completely honest with myself, I didn’t recognise the woman in the wool coat with the shopping bag. I knew she was Tim’s ex for sure, but I didn’t recognise her as Charlotte. I rushed towards my car and got in. The leather seats were cold and I felt a chill through my body. Had I just seen my sister? She had walked past me without a hint of recognition, but I did have the hat pulled down and my hair tucked in. The last time she had seen me, I'd been a child. There was no way we could recognise each other now. I had certainly changed, and if Caroline was Charlotte, so had she. She had grown much taller and lost her awkward walk. The woman I had just seen was confident and assured, not a bit like the old Charlotte. But who knew what she’d been through?

  I suddenly realised that I should be meeting Tim. I started the car and sped through the streets to my house. When I got there, Jenni was upstairs putting Samantha to bed. Jacob was singing, ‘Frosty the Snowman again and my maternal urges almost burst out of me. I popped my head round the door. And Jenni smiled widely, a smile that confirmed that we were still friends after that morning’s run-in. Jenni wore jeans and a cut off t-shirt, no makeup and looked every inch an earth mother. I stood by the door and basked in the warm glow that always filled the room when they were in it. I felt all fuzzy and hazy. Then I remembered.

  “Shit!”

  Samantha jumped up.

  “Aunty Clementine said a naughty word.”

  Jenni frowned at me.

  “Clem! What is it?”

  “It’s Johnny. He’s coming round here tonight to see you.”

  She kissed the two children and backed out onto the landing, pulling the door shut. She wore an amused smile that told me she knew what was coming.

  “Oh, really. To see moi?”

  “Yes. It seems he’s madly in love with you.”

  “Uh-huh. Yes, I know. I could do worse, girl. Could do worse. Better fix myself up for my lover.”

  “So you knew?”

  “Yes. Of course. Every time I see him, his eyes avoid me like a naughty dog. I’ve been waiting for a while for him to ask me.”

  “Why didn’t you say? You could have told me.”

  “What, so you could tell him at work? Nah, always let them make the first move. Even then play hard to get. If they want you enough, they will come.”

  She laughed loudly and I laughed with her. Catching sight of the clock, I jumped.

  “Oh. I need to get ready. Are you getting ready?”

  “What for? If he wants to see me, he’d better get used to this.”

  She pointed up and down her body as I retreated to my room. A spray of deodorant and a clean t-shirt later and I was ready. I applied a little makeup as an afterthought and pinched my cheeks. Jenni watched me as I grabbed my bag and coat.

  “Don’t do it, Clem. Don’t do it, girl.”

  “It’s OK. I’m not going to sleep with him. I just want to spend a bit of time finding out about him and Caroline.” I didn’t tell her about my stalking expedition. “I’ll be back around eleven.”

  She winked at me.

  “I’ll have got rid of lover boy by then.”

  I pulled on a scarf and hat and grabbed my car keys. I was still laughing when I reached the car, but it was strange to be leaving my own home and knowing that two other people would be laying down the ground rules for a relationship there tonight. The song ‘It should’ve been me’ played in my mind as I drove to Tim’s house. I was always missing out on the real event. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, as Dad would say. I thought about them now, my parents, sitting in their car outside Caroline’s house in some kind of mad disguise. I almost laughed until I remembered Mum’s fragility and Dad’s ever-hopeful expression. They had missed her by seconds. If I hadn’t come along and interfered, they would have seen her walking along the street, swinging her shopping bag. Humming to herself. They might have got out of the car and stopped her, tears of joy from all three of them. I wondered why I'd stopped them. Why was I so insistent on not confronting her? We had agreed that we needed to make sure it was Charlotte first. I was none the wiser, even after seeing the person in question close up. I just didn’t recognise her. I resolved to take Mum back over there tomorrow, when we could both positively ID the woman and take the results back to the police. I chuckled to myself at my forensic-style thoughts. I was as bad as Dad with his night vision glasses.

  I approached Tim’s house now. My stomach was hurting with anticipation, yet I parked round the corner from his house. I had a growing sense of trepidation every time I thought about the darker-than-magnolia walls, the fringed lamp and the grinning mother. I desperately wanted to see the shrine room again, to get more information. I equally desperately wanted to jump Tim’s bones. I just couldn’t get him out of my mind. His lips over mine. His hands caressing my back. His tongue on my nipple, darting back and forth. Involuntarily, a mental picture of his dark curls between my thighs shook me and I felt a rush in my lions. I wished I'd worn my lucky knickers now, and my nice bra. I hadn’t even had time really to have a wash and I pictured Lenny’s uncompromising frown now and his shaking head.

  I collected my thoughts and started the car. I knew I was visiting him for sex. I knew, somewhere under my idealism, that he did still want Caroline and I was just a distraction, but I managed to stuff those thoughts into my already burgeoning denial. It only nagged me a little and, like toothache, if it got too bad I could do something about it. For now, I had my own agenda. I drove round the corner and parked up. He had opened the door before I could even get out of the car. He was wearing a blue shirt and jeans, black socks and his huge grin.

  “Hi, babe. You look good.”

  I smiled back and we stood outside for a moment.

  “Thanks. I came straight from work.”

  Why ha
d I said that? He was hardly going to suspect me of coming straight from spying on his ex, was he?

  “Come in then. I’ll get you a drink. Tea or coffee?”

  Well, at least it wasn’t the hot chocolate appreciation society like the other night. I looked at the wallpaper in the hallway. I'd previously thought that it was faux Victorian era. But this was the real thing. Browned, peeling, tissue-thin paper as far as the eye could see. Going through to the lounge, it was exactly the same. Tim’s mother dozed in the same chair she had been in the other night. She stirred as I sat down.

  “Hello, Mrs...”

  I felt honour bound to speak to her since I was about to shag her son in the room above. She didn’t stir and I was quite glad. Tim returned with two cups of tea and some sugar and milk.

  “I didn’t know how you took your tea.”

  He smiled at me. At least he didn’t think I was Caroline now. I glanced around the room and noticed the unusual amount of plants. Then I remembered the flowers.

  “Thanks for the flowers. They were lovely.”

  His mother snorted in her sleep and Tim reddened.

  “I didn’t send you flowers.”

  “Oh. I thought they were from you.”

  “No. What did the card say?”

  “Just something about my hand getting better.”

  I immediately realised who the flowers were from apparently at almost the same moment Tim did. He stood up and stamped his foot like an overgrown toddler.

  “Liam. That fucking fireman. I knew he fancied you.”

  “Keep you on your toes, won’t it?”

  I dropped a sugar cube into my tea and stirred noisily. He fumed away, walking across the room.

  “I hate that. He knows you were with me.”

  “No he doesn’t. We weren’t a couple. Aren’t.”

  Our eyes met and he conceded. I pointed upstairs and we took our tea to his room. I stepped into the room and my eyes went straight to the wall where Caroline's picture had hung. It was gone. A huge patch of light-coloured wallpaper marked the spot, as if to remind us both that someone had once been there. I smiled at Tim and he grinned back. I sat on the bed holding my tea.